> The Folly Of Princesses
>  by Steel Resolve
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Prologue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Princess Celestia (Diarch of the Land, Everlasting Steward of the Sun and named Most Attractive Mare in so many magazines that she now had an honorary place on every top ten list conceived of in the last fifty years) was not happy.

To be fair, Celestia wasn’t precisely unhappy either. She hadn’t had much reason to be unhappy since Twilight Sparkle and her five friends had defeated the Nightmare. It was more of a Royal Pout. This mostly involved a lot of pacing back and forth and wishing she were back in Canterlot, even if she was supposed to be resting.

Don’t be so dramatic, a familiar voice in her head said testily.

Celestia frowned, stopping in mid pace to arch a single eyebrow at her own reflection in the mirror over Twilight’s dresser. “Don’t even act like you didn’t want to go as well, Astra.”

Of course I did, the voice responded. Celestia could see her in her mind’s eye, a mirror image of herself, her face showing the exasperation that could be heard in her voice, if a voice in one’s head could be said to be heard.

It was easier to talk to the mirror at these moments. It helped Celestia feel slightly less insane, though she knew she had to be, somewhat, to be experiencing this schism in her mind that had named herself ‘Astra’.

Astra was Celestia, but also not. It was a fairly singular phenomenon, having only one comparable instance. But unlike Luna’s madness, the voice in Celestia’s head seemed benign, for the moment. Celestia had come to terms with it (or her, as it were) to the point where casual conversation was no longer troublesome, so long as she was alone, or only around friends.

Luna has a very valid point, though. You aren’t recovered.

“Oh, that was just common sense. The moment I step hoof in Canterlot I’ll be swarmed with ponies demanding to know where I was and how I intend to address the changes Luna made in my absence. I’m not happy about it, but I understand why.”

Wait. I thought you were upset about the wedding? Astra responded, sounding confused.

“Well, that too, but mostly about Luna ordering me to stay here while she tended to business. It was Yinglong, Astra! There is no ‘being ready’ for a five mile long ancient Chineighse dragon with teeth like broadswords. I could have helped.” she snapped back, sitting down in front of the mirror in a huff.

You wanted to fight the dragon with Luna?

“Of course I did! It would have been very therapeutic to hit something. I have centuries of repressed irritation, and taking a few decades worth out on a dragon with a grudge would have done wonders.”

And you thought I’d be eager for you to do this? I thought I made it clear in which way I prefer you work out your frustrations. Pink or purple, or both, I’m not picky. A giant dragon isn’t one of the choices I mentioned.

Celestia frowned at her reflection, going so far as to point a hoof at it. For as much as Astra represented her repression of her own needs, she would have thought that would extend to things like aggression. “Only because it wasn’t an option, surely?”

Let me think... would I rather you risk your life, which, incidentally, risks my own existence, tenuous as it is... or try to lure your student and her marefriend off to bed? I’ll get back to you.

“I wasn’t asking for your opinion on the matter. It was already decided on by my sister before she even told me.” Celestia groused, frowning at her own reflection.

And do you think she made a bad decision? You are her fellow Diarch, are you not? You could have told her you were going regardless.

“I... I could have, yes. But she was... right. The less I use magic, the quicker I will recover.”

Exactly. Even if only in defense, you would have needed magic, and copious amounts of it.

“Or I would have forced Luna to keep me safe while trying to keep up the attack herself, yes. I know.”

Why even worry about it, now? She took care of him weeks ago.

Celestia stared at the mirror for a long moment, eventually turning from it. “I’m just... feeling very much like I am out of the loop.”

You needed to rest. Wasn’t keeping you out of the loop the point?

“The point was to rest and recover, not to stress myself about not being able to attend a wedding, or not being able to strike down Yinglong with my own hooves!” she said, slamming both hooves down in frustration.

Well, if it makes you feel better, you’ve managed to smite an innocent dresser.

Celestia looked down in surprise and found that she’d apparently hit the dresser top with enough force to crack it, and that she’d left scorch marks behind as well. She made a mental note to apologize to Twilight about it once she came home again.

You could just go, you know. Astra said after a long moment.

“No, no I can’t. My little ponies will panic if they see me in this state.”

No, not to Canterlot. Just... outside. You could talk to somepony besides yourself for a time.

Celestia snorted humorlessly. “How would that be any better than going to Canterlot?” she demanded.

Ponyville isn’t expecting Princess Celestia to be here. That’s the reason why you’ve stayed put in the library, but you could probably manage a low grade illusion with no trouble by now, and a bit of sun would do you wonders.

There was a long silence as Celestia gave the idea some thought. Being cooped up in the library had really only been troublesome once all of its normal occupants had left for the wedding. The library wasn’t even receiving the patrons it normally would, since its de facto librarian was out of town.

She was a social pony, and had always been one. Sitting around and brooding wasn’t helping her in the slightest. “I’d need more than a minor illusion to look like myself,” Celestia said at last.

Yes, but as you are now you could pass for a tall unicorn, provided you covered the wings.

Celestia looked at herself in the mirror, doing more than just glancing at herself so she could have somepony to address, really looking at herself for the first time in a while.

It had been several weeks since she and Twilight had needed to solve a rather large magical problem having to do with Luna’s meddling with a relatively simple healing spell meant to fix Rarity’s cracked horn. Things had gone about as well as could be expected, since nopony had died, but the magical energy it had taken to break the spell had needed to come from somewhere. Since Celestia was the only pony around with more magic at her disposal than her sister, the choice had been obvious. In the end, she’d been left in a weakened form, much the same as her sister had been after being freed from the Nightmare.

The mare in the mirror had recovered some of her strength. Gone was the flat and lifeless pink mane that had hung around her head. While some pink remained, she could see the auroral colors beginning to reassert themselves. They were faint, but visible, the barest beginnings of colors as dawn lends its light to the world. And while it no longer moved in a gentle flow, it had regained some of its volume.

She’d always been a tall mare, towering over ponies so much that she’d taken to holding court while sitting on a cushion just to look slightly less intimidating. The pony in the mirror was still one that would be head and shoulders above most, but she wasn’t certain if she’d be able to see eye to eye with her own sister, yet.

“I’d need to leave my regalia here,” she said musingly.

It’s a bit uncomfortable right now in any case, too loose.

“The wings are going to be hard to deal with. It might be easier to hide my horn, but then I couldn’t use magic or I would look very suspicious.”

You’re going to have to do something about your horn, anyway. It’s much longer than a unicorn’s. And there’s no way anypony would confuse those giant wind-movers at your side for normal pegasus wings, but if you kept them closed you could probably pass them off..

Celestia extended a wing experimentally, then closed it with an unhappy grunt. Astra was right, of course, but the more she had to mask with magic, the more difficult the illusion would be to maintain. Her coat color, for instance, would have to stay as it was, but a white coat wasn’t uncommon in unicorns. Even her mane, while unusual, wouldn’t require alteration.

She cursed at herself as she realized the obvious solution. She should have let Rarity make her a dress as the mare had continuously offered over the course of the prior few weeks. Celestia’s reasoning for not bothering had been sound enough (her measurements were going to change drastically as she recovered) but it would have solved her immediate problem quite nicely.

“Perhaps if I threw a cloak over them... “ she shook her head. Like all winged ponies, she found having her wings bound up in any way very uncomfortable. “It would be slightly easier to keep the horn hidden,” she said decisively.

Admittedly, it might avoid you being tempted to use magic, and the illusion will be enough of a drain on you as is.

Celestia nodded. Strangely, even trying to piece together an adequate disguise to go take a walk was improving her mood by leaps and bounds. “There’s still the problem of my cutiemark.”

Did any of those gowns they fetched from the old castle still fit?

Celestia blinked, having to think about it for a moment. Applejack, Rarity, and Fluttershy had gone on an expedition to the old castle, intent on bringing back some of Luna’s old wardrobe. They’d brought a few of Celestia’s as well, since Rarity had wanted to study the designs.

“No,” Celestia replied. She’d left them there for a reason, after all. “I’m afraid those haven’t fit in centuries. I’d put them in storage even before Luna— Well, for some time, at least.”

They stopped fitting because you grew taller, didn’t they?

“Taller... and wider,” Celestia admitted begrudgingly.

You could try them again.

Celestia frowned at the mirror. “I literally just told you they stopped fitting.”

Yes, but you’re also shorter and smaller in nearly every way. You might fit into them, now.

Celestia looked at her flank doubtfully, but had to admit it was worth trying.





As it turned out, she fit into all of them again, and so she proceeded to spend a good long time modeling each of them for Astra before settling on a fetching cream-colored toga-esque gown that predated the building of her old castle.

“I used to love this one!” she said as she spun around in it, watching the end flare fetchingly around her flanks. It was not a dress Princess Celestia should have ever been caught wearing, but then, when she’d worn this dress, she had simply been Celestia. Celestia had loved gowns, had loved feeling pretty. She had loved her sister and had loved the silly castle they’d built together so that ponies could come ask their silly questions, assuming they made it past the traps.

Princess Celestia looked perfect in nothing but her regalia. Anything more was unnecessary, and showy.

Being the only ruler changed one’s outlook on what was proper.

But, for the moment, she was not a functional part of the government. Princess Celestia was taking a leave of absence while Celestia the mare got some much-needed rest.

You don’t like to think about that time very often, do you? Astra asked in what sounded like a surprisingly quiet voice inside of Celestia’s head.

“I’m sorry, could you be a little more specific?” Celestia replied. “I’m a mare with a lot of time.”

Without even seeing it, Celestia could imagine a single raised eyebrow as Astra replied: I suppose I walked right into that one. Very well. To clarify, most of your memories are vivid, easy to recall, even very early ones. I’m talking about the times right before and after Luna... Well, you know.

“Oh,” Celestia replied, not quite knowing what to say. “No, I suppose I don’t. You should know that.”

Not really. I know as much as you’ll allow me to know, but some things... it’s like looking at the forbidden arts section of the library; meticulously organized, and every surface is plastered with warning signs.

Celestia snorted humorlessly. She was unsurprised to find that the same mind that had created a mental construct of her own personal Id had created a few more constructs around painful memories. “I’d be happy to recount something for you, if you were interested.”

Another time. It just made me curious.

The revelation was a bit odd to Celestia; the idea that the voice in her head didn’t know all that she knew.

It was difficult to grasp exactly what Astra was. At first she’d seemed antagonistic, mocking and goading Celestia in the hopes that anger might lead to her finally taking action in her nonexistent love life.

She’d spent a good amount of time thinking about the phenomenon, much as she had about her sister’s own episode, trying to trace the problem back to the source in order to learn more about it.

The schism had happened when she had learned that Twilight had once attempted a love confession to Celestia herself, and from her perspective, had been laughed at for it.

The reality had been more complicated, as a surprised Celestia receiving a Hearts and Hooves gift from her entirely-too-young-but-precious student was more than she had been prepared to deal with, and had laughed out of relief when Twilight had clarified that her intent was platonic. That didn’t stop poor Twilight from crying her eyes out that night.

You know, the dress is nice, but perhaps a nice pair of reading glasses?

Celestia looked at herself in the mirror, frowning. “Do you think that would work?”

It works for Yearling.

“Hmmm, you may have something there.”

Twilight was a very special pony to Celestia. In her long life, she’d been in love many times, had courted, and had been courted. Though she’d been unsuccessful in finding a mate in more centuries than she cared to admit, that hadn’t been what had lead to her current situation.

Love could be said to be a very special kind of madness, and in Celestia’s case, that was quite literal. She’d only begun hearing the mockery when she’d heard Twilight say that she had loved Celestia since her botched confession, and still did. The very moment that she heard it, Celestia knew in her heart of hearts that she felt the same, but had just as quickly decided that it didn’t matter.

Because Twilight was also in love with Pinkie.

I found more sections with warning signs. You have several of them, actually. Entire shelves worth.

“Everypony has painful memories, Astra,” Celestia replied as she tried on a pair of old reading glasses that had apparently gotten too scratched for Twilight to wear. She perched them on her nose, wiggling it experimentally to see if they would come off easily.

Celestia was in love with somepony who loved her for herself, something she had dreamed of for the many centuries she’d existed. With somepony who even had the potential to be greater than Celestia herself... and it didn’t matter.

All things considered, Celestia supposed it was lucky she hadn’t instantly burst into flames, raised the sun to its zenith, and declared Twilight her wife while throwing Pinkie into a dark cell.

It was a special kind of madness that saw her do something else.

I suppose a longer life leads to more regrets.

“Many more chances to make mistakes, yes,” Celestia said as she focused a tight beam of sunlight through the lenses, melting the glass within and reshaping it to allow her to see through them without magnification.

She’d decided to help the young couple with their relationship troubles, the same troubles that had lead a distraught Twilight to flee to Celestia’s lap, and tried to simply suppress her own wishes. And all the while the voice chided her for her cowardice, calling her a fool for not just taking what she wanted.

It took a shared dream created by Luna to help her find a measure of peace with herself. Within the dream, Celestia had faced down and fought her other self, and when Luna had brought Twilight and Pinkie to help with the dream, her true feelings were exposed by the entity that Celestia had named her own personal Fiend.

You’re awfully quiet.

“Just thinking, sorry.”

That should have been the end of it. Were she sane, she would have been broken-hearted, certainly, and perhaps would have nursed her emotional wounds for several lifetimes. But instead she was still in Ponyville, still engaging with both Pinkie and Twilight, both of whom had decided that she would be part of their burgeoning relationship in some manner of triangle formation. Thinking about it made her head hurt.

In short, it was a very special madness, and one she didn’t want to see end.

I suppose I can’t ask you to think out loud all of the time. It’s a habit you’ll need to break if you’re going outside. Or anywhere, really.

Celestia snorted in amusement. “True enough. Also, I should probably ask ahead of time for you not to talk while I’m holding court.”

So, in the weeks that had followed, she had been resting, and watching Twilight and Pinkie begin their relationship on firmer footing, with a better understanding of each other. Her heart was glad for them, but she was still uncertain of her own place. It was madness to think it could work.

The most special kind of madnesses.


I withhold the right to make fun of windbags and whiners.

“Well, that’s a given. Just try to save anything particularly amusing for after sessions, please. I do try not to laugh out loud at them.”

Fair enough. I wonder though, will you have as much to do at court when you get back? Assuming Luna’s restructuring of the courts worked as planned, I mean.

“At first, I would imagine even more,” Celestia replied with a grimace. “There will be backlash to Luna’s rule, and demands aplenty.”

Have you ever considered just disappearing for a lifetime to wean them off of your poor teats?

Celestia let out a sudden surprised laugh. “Okay, that’s the sort of thing you should avoid saying in public, please.”

I wasn’t joking, but I’m glad it made you laugh.

Celestia nodded to her reflection, then eyed herself in the mirror more critically. The dress covered her cutiemark well, and even she would not have assumed this tall creature was Princess Celestia. She would have wondered where this unknown princess had come from, however.

Hiding a horn the size of hers wasn’t the easiest thing to do. Simply making it invisible was possible, but not exactly ideal. In a town like Ponyville where ponies tended to average around a head or so shorter than the proud griffons and occasional Saddle Arabian visitors, there was a very real danger of scraping the tops of doorways with that proud spire on her head. It might likewise make her fail to account for its length. Rather than potentially blow her own cover by impaling said horn into something or someone, she instead used a variant of Wallflower’s Notice-Me-Not (which drew ponies’ eyes away from the object and recolored it to look like the prevalent colors behind it) combined with a weak repellent field to ensure that ponies mistook her horn for part of her mane and simultaneously avoided flying into or touching it without knowing why.

The spells, while not requiring constant maintenance, nevertheless left her feeling just a little winded. She would have preferred to have used Wallflower’s See-Me-Not (it was a much more reliable spell. It could hide anypony or object by altering the physics of light to be absorbed and recast beyond the radius of the spell), but like most spells in her repertoire, it required more energy than she had to spare.

She congratulated herself as she looked once more to see a regal looking pegasus with a swept-forward mane smiling back. Even if she knew where her horn should be, her eyes naturally slid just to the left and right of it, seeing only mane with no hint of anything else. Attempts to reach up and touch it resulted in her hoof being redirected in such a subtle fashion as to nearly convince her she’d been trying to pat at her mane instead.

Well, look at that. You could almost be your own long lost sister.

“No, that would require an awful lot of blue dye.”

You know what I mean. Astra responded testily.

Celestia nodded, shaking her hips a little to make the dress shift around in a fetching manner. She liked that it was just long enough to cover her cutie mark but still quite short, covering her flanks strategically and leaving her looking and feeling more exposed than if she’d been entirely nude.

These were not thoughts Princess Celestia normally allowed herself. She knew, empirically, that she was desirable. But feeling... naughty... was not something she was used to. She wondered idly how Twilight would react if she saw it.

Showing off a little flair, O Goddess of the Sun?

“Perhaps...” Celestia said with a little laugh. “It just... feels good.”

Yes, and looks good too. Astra replied, and for a moment Celestia heard what sounded like a thousand stallions wolf-whistling simultaneously. So, a tall leggy pegasus with a body like a supermodel’s, what are you going to call her?

“Her?” Celestia asked, raising a single eyebrow at her own reflection.

Yes, her. What do you intend to call your assumed identity? Surely you won’t introduce yourself as Celestia?

Princess Celestia wordlessly frowned at the mare in the mirror, not having a good answer and feeling slightly irritated. Still, it was better to think on the matter before she was asked and had to come up with something out of the blue.

I have a few suggestions, if you’d like to hear them...

Celestia could just imagine Astra, sitting at the her work desk as she’d found her when she’d last seen her in the dreamscape, a notepad at the ready with a list of possibilities.

She shook her head ruefully. “All right, I suppose it’s only fair since I’ve already named you twice.” Then she shook her hoof in mock-warning. “But I am vetoing Universalia from the list.”

Oh sure, spoil my fun before I even get to have it. Fine, I have other ideas.





“We could simply hire her away from her Queen.” Princess Luna said thoughtfully over the breakfast table.

“She wouldn’t hear of it. Nor would they allow her to go.” Midnight Oil replied with a shake of his head. “It’s fine, Princess. It’s not the first time and it certainly won’t be the last.”

Her breakfast companion was a middle-aged unicorn with a talent for organization who had been been Luna’s aide from the moment she had returned to Canterlot. His station had risen of late (as evidenced by the sun-emblazoned medallion he wore around his neck) but he still acted in his former capacity as a matter of course.
“I could just demand her.” Luna said, flashing him a smile that held little warmth to it. The ‘she’ in question was Eriskay of the Scoltish Isles, Representative of The Queen of Scoltland and Broker of the Scoltish Merchant Empire. “I could claim her from her Queen. Perhaps even ask for her services as a gift. If entreaties failed, I could threaten to cut ties with her nation. Her Queen is unlikely to wish to risk Our favor. And the merchants she answers to only care about their profits. They may even insist she stay to ensure Our good will.”

Midnight leveled a long stare at Luna. He had a way of knowing her mood, and could tell when she spoke in jest. She simply held his gaze for a time, never wavering.

Luna knew well how her words would affect him. In addition to being a talented civil servant, Eriskay was also Midnight’s wife, and while she and Midnight had just ended a long honeymoon, it would be some time hence before they saw one another again.

Luna also knew the pain long separations from loved ones, and more recently, the sadness of missing ponies she had great affection for. Luna hadn’t exactly had time for social visits while Midnight had been gone, or before while on her trek to Neighsia, and consequently found herself very much looking forward to possibly being able to make one with Midnight back from his trip.

Excited as she was for herself, she felt quite horrid knowing Midnight himself had months to go before being reunited with Eriskay.

“Perhaps I could send for her when she’ll be on this side of the hemisphere. I could recruit a two pairs of our fastest fliers—”

“Luna.”

“Or I could commission a portal to bring her here. Granted she may have to step into an alternate reality which may or may not involve a change of species... the one populated by dogs is quite nice, if being slightly awkward due to all of the sniffing—”

“Luna.”

“Oh! I could set up some sort of unicorn teleportation relay—”

“Luna!”

Luna looked up from the table (upon which she’d begun lining up grapes, trying to approximate the range of the average unicorn capable of teleporting themselves and one other) to see Midnight looking down at her testily. “Yes, Middy?”

“While I appreciate your concern, Eriskay is a busy mare, and she’s actually behind schedule now due to the unplanned trip to Neighsia—”

“An effort for which I will happily knight her, if she will but accept it.” Luna said quite seriously. “Her assistance was invaluable.”

“I’m certain she’ll consider the offer when she has some time away from her duties. For the moment, she still has many contracts to negotiate.”

Luna frowned as she gazed down into her coffee. She had spent a lot of time with Eriskay in their recent travels to Chineigh, and had gotten to know her as more than the prim and proper mare she presented herself as when on official business.

Luna could well understand why Middy liked her.

“Surely they could find somepony else, Middy.” Luna said petulantly.

What she did not say, what she almost felt she could not say, was that she wished for Eriskay to have a more permanent place in Canterlot for reasons that were selfish as well.

Luna liked Eriskay. She was a loyal and brave mare, with a remarkably bawdy sense of humor (after she’d had a few drinks) which had led to Luna learning more about Eriskay’s tastes in the bedroom than she had wished to. She was also a kind and forgiving mare, but most importantly, a friend. Luna had precious few of those that she knew were true, and adding another was very satisfying.

Which only made it more heartbreaking to have to watch her depart, knowing that there would be a hole left, not just in Middy's life, but her own.

“She’s not so easily replaced, I’m afraid.” Midnight replied, sounding very tired. He looked more rested than when she’d sent them both off, but there was a certain loneliness in his eyes that she’d never really seen before. Or rather, she had, but had always taken it for fatigue, or one of his headaches.

Her eyes misted as she saw him briefly touch his dress shirt with a hoof in a motion that, for an earth pony or a pegasus, would have been a simple shirt adjustment. Middy had magic for such things, he wasn’t adjusting his shirt at all. He was simply making contact with a pendant he wore underneath, the twin of which was worn by Eriskay. A simple enchantment would warm both when they were within a certain distance of one another.

Luna knew just as well as Middy did that the pendant lay cold on his chest.

He set aside the report he was looking over to eat some of his breakfast. His side of the table wasn’t terribly interesting to Luna, as it tended to have simple dishes like fruit and cereal. Her own side was now full of various choices, some of which she’d adopted from Tia’s menu after trying them out. The donuts were in plentiful supply, as were the pancakes, and a selection of preserves, syrups, and sugar of both cane and powdered varieties. Also present was French toast, though the bagels her sister favored were not to be found. Luna still resented their resemblance to her beloved donuts and did not wish to make the same mistake twice.

She picked one of the donuts up, chewing on it thoughtfully. “Not easily, no, but they will have to replace her eventually. Why not now?”

He looked up from his cereal with a baleful expression. “Luna, please do not interfere with her career.”

“I would never!” she replied with an innocent smile. “I’m simply talking about requesting a change in her duties. Having an envoy here would strengthen relations between our two nations.”

They simply held each other’s gazes for a time, Middy looking at her severely, as if he planned to scold her. Luna returned with an unrepentant and slightly smug grin. She knew very well the two wished for more time together, but neither would bend on service to their respective countries.

“Alternatively,” Luna added, still refusing to break eye contact, “I could name you ambassador to the crown, and send you off to her Scoltland.”

He actively frowned at her, but didn’t say a word in protest. “I... suppose we could give the matter some thought, after Princess Celestia returns, and the restructuring of the court system is complete.”

“That’s fine then.” Luna finished the donut, washing it down with the remainder of her coffee. “We also need to go over the final details for the visit from...” her eyes squinted as she tried to remember the name of her visitor. “Empress Zeeow May?”

“Empress Xiǎo Mǎ,” Midnight said after double-checking his report.

“Yes, her.” Luna replied. “First a Queen, now an Empress. Give a pony a mere thousand years of civilization and they fancy themselves above others.”

“Likely an inherited title.” Midnight said judiciously. “It’s not like she chose it out of the blue.”

“Tia chose ‘Princess’, said it sounded official enough without being pretentious. That and she didn’t want to hear the King of Unicornia complaining. I wanted to be a Queen, it just seems to command more respect.” Luna held her head high, staring haughtily down at a pancake before cutting into it and taking a delicate bite. “I wonder if Dear Cadence will become an Empress, now? She is ruling over an empire, after all.”

Princess Cadence, along with her spouse, had been sent to the Crystal Empire on an exploratory mission after the latter had reappeared in the middle of the frozen north. Cadence had still been on her honeymoon when she’d been contacted, and was just a bit cross until told that she would be staying in the castle for the interim. She and her husband were essentially there so that the various guards and researchers sent along to look into the matter would have somepony to report to besides Celestia herself.

“Hmmm, I suppose it’s a question she’ll need to decide for herself. And right now I don’t know that she is a ruler so much as caretaker.”

“Have they still not discovered a cure for the crystal ponies memory loss?” Luna demanded. “They’ve been studying the populace for months now.”

“Nothing yet. Traditional spells are ineffective, as if there is some malignant force at work.”

“Sombra...” Luna muttered darkly. “It would be just like him to curse his own people thusly.”

“Whatever it is, it’s beyond the researchers.”

“Well, Dear Cadence will have to persevere. And while she does, she and her Shining Armor may enjoy an extended honeymoon.”

“Speaking of, how was the ceremony for Miss Rarity and Miss Fluttershy?”

Luna’s eyes sparkled just a bit as she replied. “It was wonderful. Thank you for covering Day Court so that I might officiate.”

He blinked at her, saying only: “Of course.”

The room was silent for another moment before he said: “You can just ask, you know.”

Her wings fluttered in alarm before she calmed them down once more. “Whatever do you mean, Middy?”

He calmly placed his spoon back into the empty bowl of cereal. “You’re buttering me up for something, and since the guard wasn’t panicked when I returned, I am assuming you didn’t disappear overnight while I was gone. So, you wish for me to dismiss your guards this evening, and possibly for me to cover your Day Court duties tomorrow. Am I correct?”

Luna stared at him for a long moment before squeaking out a flustered: “Yes?”

He nodded, placing his reports in a neat stack and neatening the dishes on his side of the table. “I only ask that you take measures to ensure the sunrise happens on time. I won’t ask where you’re going, and I will inform the guards you are not to be followed. Will that suffice?”

“Yes!” Luna said just a little louder than she might have liked. “I mean... That is precisely what I wish. Thank you, Middy.”

“You have already thanked me. I had no idea how badly I needed some time off.” He stood, stretching slowly to the tips of his hooves, then rotated his neck around to get the kinks out, letting out a loud yawn. “But, it’s time to get back to work. I won’t begrudge you for taking time off for yourself, however. You’ve certainly earned it.”

Luna wasn’t quite certain she had earned much of anything, but she was more than willing to accept his offer. Truthfully, after her trip to the dragon lands to treat with the Dragon Lord, she’d been left feeling like she had actually fought old Torch himself. It had very nearly come to war between ponies and dragons, and Eriskay’s efforts to mediate might have gone in vain if not for the giant cake kept on the airship. Luna had hoped to present it as a gift after securing Torch’s promise of an alliance, but it worked just as well as a bribe. Dragons were very prone to motivations like greed, after all.

The subsequent travels to the eastern continent of Neighsia to end the threat of Yinglong (hopefully for good) had ended with her feeling both elated and utterly exhausted. She’d followed that with two weeks of running Canterlot without Middy or her sister to aid her, since she’d sent Middy and Eriskay off to Las Pegasus to have a belated honeymoon of their own. While all of that was nowhere near what her sister had gone through in her absence, she still felt more than ready to take a day off. She just hoped any ponies experiencing nightmares would forgive her.

But, whether they would forgive her or not, she intended to attend a party this evening with two dear friends, and trusted that Middy would keep the world from burning in the meanwhile. He’d proven his worth in that regard more than once.

He left her with a deferential nod, which she returned in kind. As her sister’s Voice he was technically her equal, making even that unnecessary, but he was insistent on that much, since she had forbidden him to kneel or bow.

She finished her breakfast in silence, then teleported up to her bedroom, casting a simple ward on the door to alert her should anypony attempt to open it or knock on it. Having secured the only point of entry, she sat down at the large work desk in the room and rummaged around until she found the scroll she was looking for.

It was an unassuming thing, with no seal pressed upon it. She’d found it waiting on her balcony one morning, which was quite a feat, because the balcony was quite possibly more heavily warded than the forbidden arts wing of the library.

She’d been mildly alarmed at first, until she found the small card with the black hoofprint lying next to the scroll. On the opposite side of the card was a simple message:



—Call upon us at need—



The print on the card had offered no other clue as to who it had been left by, but had not needed any. The missive had been delivered by an organization she was familiar with, at the very least. They were good, very good, if they managed to breach her defences enough to leave this.

The scroll offered even less information about the sender, but that was to be expected of a pony who hired assassins to deliver a simple message.



My Little Princess,

It has been too long. Is that presumptuous to say? I say it anyway. It’s been too long, Princess. I miss you.

I would like to apologize if my method of delivery of this message disturbed you in any way. I did not wish to cause a scene by attempting to see you at court, nor did I wish for your staff to question why I would ask for a private audience. Instead, I made contact with the ponies you sent after us, though they complained they did not do this sort of thing. If you see this message, you see they do, when offered enough.

I recognize that you are very busy of late, but if you can find the time I would greatly enjoy your company. We could make ready the guest room as you wish. Perhaps breakfast? Please come?

Your friend.

P.S. He would scold me for this if he knew, and I do not care.

P.P.S. I do care somewhat, but I miss you more. Please come.



She’d read the little note many times since receiving it. There was no question in her mind who the friend was, and she was mildly amused to see such care being used to maintain secrecy.

The paper smelled faintly of Fleur, bringing to mind fond memories of long talks that went on well past when the other guests had gone, then following Fleur and her husband up to their chambers for nightcaps, dismissing the servants—

Then the teasing, that infectious laugh, the gaze that was both casually possessive yet adoring, saying ‘You are mine, but I would do anything you ask of me.’—

And after it all, the afterglow, snuggled in between them both with a smile of utter contentment.

She let out a sigh, clutching the letter tightly to her chest. It had been some time. It had been too long.

There had been a time when she had feared what Fleur had offered, then she had taken it for granted, thinking Fleur offered something she did not hold dear to herself, something she gave to any guest she invited to join her and Fancy for the evening.

She was still uncertain of what to make of the knowledge that, without even having been offered it, she possessed Fleur’s heart. And while it came with the knowledge that Fancy was still an owner of that selfsame heart, she now felt a certain responsibility that she had not before. She was not just a guest after all.

It was worrisome, but also humbling, and wonderful, in a certain way. Going to see her friends had been a way to get away from other troubles, knowing there was nothing expected of her, but now...

It’s been too long, Princess.

That simple sentence spoke volumes to Luna. It had worried her somewhat, that perhaps her dear friend was deeply saddened, or was thinking that Luna did not wish to see her again. The idea that Fleur was hurting in any way tore at Luna’s own heart.

Fancy had told her she bore no obligation to Fleur, that Fleur’s feelings were her own worry. She did not yet know if the feeling was mutual... But Luna definitely had an affection for both of them, of that much she was certain, and when a pony you have affection for hurts, it hurts you as well.

Luna unfortunately hadn’t had time to even respond to the letter, much less act on the invitation. The needs of the nation were such that she did not understand how Celestia had borne the weight for so long. Now matter how she tried, she could not find a free night to get away, and she dared not simply slip away without notice.

But thanks to Middy, she could do both at last. She took out a blank scroll and penned:



Dame,

I am sorry for not having answered sooner. I will gratefully accept your invitation this evening. Expect me after moonrise. I won’t be needing the guest room this eve.

Please have your maid inform your cooks I would like French Toast in the morning. And coffee. Coffee is very important.

-L

P.S. If he scolds you, he may punish me, for I am to blame.

P.P.S. Your punishment will be to watch while he punishes me. If you are a good girl you can be punished too.



She rolled up the scroll, pressing her seal into it. Then she hit it with a lick of magical dragonfire and sent it on its way.

Her relief was palpable as she watched the scroll burn up and drift away in a waft of smoke. She had a few other matters to attend to that day. She wanted to check on the road construction to gauge their progress, and after that, Day Court. After that she had lunch, and finally, she wanted to take some time to visit Tiberius and the other animals in her private Night Garden.

Provided there were no pressing matters that required her immediate attention, that left her with the rest of the afternoon to get ready for her visit, and some time before everything else to pick out an outfit.

“Something form-fitting...” she murmured as she looked through what had become a very extensive collection thanks to Rarity’s efforts. She finally found a silver gown that shimmered in the sunlight that would almost appear to glow with the smallest amount of moonlight. It hugged her hips and would have started wars in her era.

“Yes... you are going to be so much fun to peel off later.”
> Chapter 1: Nom De Bloom
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sunrise Surprise.

“Better,” Celestia admitted, “But not quite right.”

Sunset—

“No.”

Is something wrong with Sunset Serenade? I rather liked how it rolled off the tongue.

“Still no. I have no doubt that’s in another forbidden section in my mind. Suffice it to say, no.”

All right, clearly a touchy subject—

“Best not to ask,” Celestia said firmly.

Fine. Sex On The Beach?

“Now you’re just naming beverages,” Celestia said with a frown.

That one was to make sure you were paying attention.

“I am, and you’re reminding me that I could use a stiff drink or two.”

Shoot, I was hoping it would remind you that there are a few beaches nearby, and that you could use a little—

Celestia rolled her eyes dramatically at the mirror. “Yes, yes. Very clever. Did you have any other suggestions?”

Oh, yes! So many.

After a long moment of staring at her own reflection, Celestia let out a long-held sigh. “All right. Let’s hear a few more, but I’d prefer a singular name, if that helps you narrow it down.”

They’re all quite singular—

“And by that I mean like Celestia, or Luna, or Astra.”

In the silence that followed, Celestia heard the sounds of pages flipping and pen scratches in her head.

All right, that does narrow it down somewhat. Let’s start with the A’s again.

Celestia listened patiently through several more suggestions, not hearing anything she particularly found interesting, until her ears perked at one name in particular. “What was that last one again? I mean not the very last, but the one before that?”

The sound of pages flipping resounded in her mind. Aurelia?

Celestia pursed her lips thoughtfully. “No, I suppose it was the very last one after all.”

Aurora.

“Aurora.” Celestia repeated, allowing it to roll around in her mouth for a moment.

Aurora Borealis, if we were going to use a last name for her.

“No, I think I like just being one name. I’m already saddled with Princess, I think I’d like to be just plain Aurora for a little while.”

Well, it does seem to suit you. So, should we take her out for a walk?

Celestia took one last long look in the mirror. After a moment, she bowed her head. “Hello, my name is Aurora.”

What are you doing?

“Introducing myself?” Celestia replied.

Do you think she’d just do that?

“She?”

Yes, her. The mare staring back at you. The curvy pegasus with the pert little flank and the pretty eyes. Would she just come out and introduce herself to somepony?

The pegasus in the mirror blushed back at Celestia as she heard all of the casual praise. “Does it matter?”

Yes! Aurora is not a princess of the land. She’s not expected to wave, or smile just so. She’s not even expected to acknowledge other ponies she doesn’t know! She’s whatever you want her to be.

“But I want to be polite.”

Okay, so you want her to be polite, that’s a start. Being polite doesn’t necessarily mean introducing yourself to everypony, though, just to ponies who introduce themselves first. It could actually be rude to just assume ponies will want to know who she is unless they ask.

Celestia mulled that over in her head, finding the logic sound. Everypony wanted to meet the Princess, but Aurora was just a pony, even if she was a rather impressive example of one.  “All right, I suppose that’s true.”

Of course it’s true. Now, what is she here for?

A moment of dumb silence followed before Astra clarified: Why is the pony you’re calling Aurora in Ponyville? Was she traveling? Is she here to meet somepony?

“I... I don’t know. Is that really important?”

What followed was the unmistakable sound of a gold-clad hoof smacking into a forehead. Yes, it’s important! Did you just plan to make something up? What about if you talk to multiple ponies and get the story mixed up?

“Aren’t you asking me to make up something now?”

Only so you’ll have an answer ready. You’ve given at least some thought to how a secret identity works, correct?

Celestia frowned at the pegasus in the mirror as she thought. “To be honest, no. I am familiar with the need, of course. The crown has spies in every major metropolitan area, after all. But I can’t say I’ve ever considered needing one myself.”

All right, that’s fair, but in this case if you wish to avoid alarming the town because of the sudden and inexplicable presence of Princess Celestia in their midst it would be a good idea to have a cover story ready for our poor Aurora, who doesn’t even know how she got here, who she’s here to see, and when she might be leaving. And that’s only the very basics of conversation that a curious pony might ask!

“Can we please stop talking about her as if she’s another pony? Talking to you is confusing enough as it is.”

Of course she’s not another pony. She’s you, you’re just not thinking like her, yet. Do you think A.K. Yearling thinks about a review of her last book when she’s dodging arrows?

“I... no, I suppose not.” Celestia squared her shoulders up, looking at the mirror to address the illusion of the pegasus mare instead of Astra. “All right. I... am Aurora. I’ve recently arrived in Ponyville from Canterlot. I’m staying with Twilight Sparkle because...” Celestia trailed off, uncertain. “Why would she be staying with Twilight?”

The best lies are as close to the truth as possible, Tia. We know why you’re here, at least, why not make that the reason she’s here?

“Well, because it doesn’t work for her.” Celestia said, pointing at the mirror. “I’m here because I was concerned for Twilight and Pinkie, and I stayed here because I needed to recover and I’m less likely to be bothered if ponies don’t know where I am.”

Fine, but we don’t need to use the exact details, just a variation of them. She traveled here, to a place she’d never been. She’s staying with Twilight, apparently, because you’ll be stepping out of the library. That probably means some familiarity with Twilight, like a friend from Canterlot—

“Or a friend of her family,” Celestia asserted suddenly. “Perhaps Aurora needed to take some time off from the hustle and bustle of Canterlot and was recommended to go to Ponyville?”

Interesting. So, not Twilight’s friend. Does she know Twilight’s parents, or her brother?

“Her mother, I think.” Celestia said after a moment. “Velvet and I do know each other fairly well, at least.”

Yes, you met with her to discuss Twilight’s progress fairly often. But that’s how Princess Celestia knows Twilight Velvet. How does Aurora know her, and why would she go to meet with Twilight?

“I...” Celestia deflated as she admitted: “I don’t know. I don’t know very much about Twilight’s family. I think Velvet is an editor?”

I’m afraid I don’t know any more than you, Celestia.

“I’d probably better not make claims that can be easily disproven.” Celestia said with a frown. “I suppose she could know Cadence? Perhaps an upperclassmare?”

Now, that might be something. So Cadence sent her to Ponyville and suggested she check in with Twilight, since she’d know where to get a hotel—

“Except Ponyville doesn’t have proper hotels, just bed and breakfast, and those are all occupied by construction workers rebuilding after the storm!” Celestia finished, clapping her hooves together in delight. “And Twilight insisted she stay here, since the library is quiet. Just right for somepony who needed rest.”

That works, yes.

“Good,” Celestia said with genuine relief. “You know, I think I’m going to like being Aurora.”

Yes, I’m certain you’ll be fine now, or at least you’ll survive casual conversation. So, now that you know who she is, you can go outside and be her. Are you ready?

Celestia nodded to the mirror, and Aurora nodded back. “Yes. I think I am.”





A pegasus named Aurora exited the library for the first time in her life. She almost immediately blew her cover by trying to use magic to close the front door after herself, before fumbling with the door with her hooves, then awkwardly pulling the door closed with her teeth.

She glared at the door balefully for a moment or two, trying to decide if she was perhaps meant to use her wings instead. Celestia reflected on the situation with a wry smile that only barely touched Aurora’s lips. Thankfully, due to diplomatic relations with various species, some of whom prefered not to witness magic in their presence, she was not unpracticed with manipulating the world with her other extremities. However, it had been some time since she’d needed to do so.

Still, some things were like riding a bicycle, which was another thing she hadn’t needed to do in some time yet always seemed to remember the mechanics of.

She turned and looked around at her first glimpse of the outside world in weeks. She hadn’t even dared to look out of the window for fear of spurring her poor ponies into a panic with her mere presence.

All around her ponies were going about their business. Here and there she could still see work crews fixing roofs, cutting down trees that had been damaged by the storm that had ravaged the town some weeks earlier, and taking long breaks for no adequately explained reason as construction workers were wont to do from the time the first hammer was produced.

She wondered about where to go first, and a loud rumble in her stomach as she glanced towards Sugarcube Corner decided the issue.

Breakfast would be nice, Astra said, sounding a little amused.

Celestia had to bite off the automatic reply, simply murmuring a silent agreement. Twilight had left her with plenty of food in the kitchen, but fresh donuts were beyond the capabilities of the little stove. She set off in a leisurely trot, enjoying the pleasant burn in muscles that had enjoyed scant use in the prior weeks. She would have dearly loved to stretch her wings as well, and might have if not for fear of being questioned about their size.

“Perhaps if I can reach the outskirts of town, then I could risk it,” she mused to herself in undertone.

Risk what?

“A little flying.”

Oh! Well, that does sound nice. But donuts first?

“Of course.”

As she approached the restaurant, the sounds of ponies chatting and smells of baking became more pronounced. By the time she actually entered her mouth was watering. She normally did not get to see a bakery in full production, and the experience was almost overwhelming to her poor nose. While she’d had a feast laid out for her during her official visit to Ponyville, that was nothing compared to what Sugarcube Corner produced for the hungry citizens every morning.

She forgot herself for a moment, heading directly to the front counter, before being halted by a polite but firm cough in her direction.

She turned, and found herself looking at a long line of slightly annoyed-looking ponies. The friendly mare who had stopped her looked meaningfully at the back of it. “It’s okay sweetie, I’m guessing you haven’t had your coffee yet. But we’re all hungry here, and you’ll have to wait with the rest of us.”

Celestia’s cheeks flushed, and she trotted obediently to the back as suggested, murmuring apologies to everypony as she did so. Thankfully, the wait was not terribly long, as the Cakes proved to be a very efficient duo, Carrot taking orders and filling them while Cup took payment. She ordered a dozen donuts, promising herself she would not eat all of them in one sitting, then took the proffered box in her mouth, depositing it on the counter.

“That’ll be two bits, ma’am,” Cup Cake said expectantly.

Celestia nodded, as the price seemed more than fair. It took her a couple more moments to realize that payment was expected of her, and that she had brought no means to satisfy that requirement.

Her face fell, and after a final, longing look at the box, she pushed it back to Cup Cake. “I’m very sorry. I seem to have forgotten my saddlebags.”

“Oh, that’s a shame. Is home nearby?” Cup asked. “I could hold them for you.”

“Home is in Canterlot, but I am staying at Golden Oaks, which isn’t far.” Celestia said, her eyes flashing to the door. “Let me just trot—”

“At the library? Are you staying with Twilight?” Cup said with sudden interest.

Celestia turned back and nodded. “Yes, there wasn’t much in the way of lodging, and Twilight’s a friend of a friend. I’ve been there for a few weeks.”

“You’ve been staying at the library, for a few weeks, and Pinkie hasn’t thrown you a ‘Welcome to Ponyville’ party?” Cup said, looking as if she scarcely believed the words coming out of her own mouth.

Celestia was speechless for a long moment before Cup added: “Oh, I didn’t mean it to come out that way. I’m just surprised! Our Pinkie would usually insist, even if you were only staying for a little while.”

Oh dear, we didn’t think of that.

“You’re not wrong,” Celestia said after a moment or two. “She wanted to. She’s a very sweet pony for that. But... I’m here because I needed some peace and quiet for a while. That’s why I took Twilight up on her offer to stay in the library. It doesn’t get much more quiet than that.”

“My goodness...” Cup said, sounding a little faint. “I’ll need to praise Pinkie a little for learning some restraint.”

“It did take some convincing.” Celestia said with a slightly strained smile.

“Oh, but where are my manners?” Cup swept the donuts under the counter, deftly grabbing two plates and placing a donut on each, depositing them on a nearby table and herding Celestia bodily into a chair. “You’re practically a neighbor and I don’t even know you!”

Celestia blinked, looking down at the donut and back across the table at Cup. “Um... shouldn’t I go fetch my bits?”

“Later. It’s not like I don’t know where you live, and I can have Pinkie fetch them for you when she gets back,” she held out a single hoof expectantly. “I’m Cup Cake, co-owner of Sugarcube Corner.”

“Pri—” Celestia froze for a split second before saying: “Pleased to meet you? My name is Aurora. I...”

We didn’t come up with a career, think fast!

“I... work at the castle in Canterlot. Sort of a civil servant.”

Civil servant! Astra said in Celestia’s head, letting out an appreciative little chuckle accompanied by the sound of quill on parchment. I like it!

“Oh...” Cup replied, pouring them each a cup of coffee. “That sounds—”

“Boring,” Celestia supplied with a smile. “It is. Lots of paperwork and ponies complaining. I really needed a break.”

“I can only imagine...” Cup said, taking a deep draught of her coffee. “I just thought... that is, you look very familiar. Have you been through Ponyville before?”

Oof. I was hoping it would take longer than your first meeting for somepony to notice. You have a choice; you can either come clean and beg her to keep quiet, or dig deeper and lie more effectively.

Celestia hesitated briefly, remembering how Cup and Carrot had gone to so much trouble for her official visit. It seemed unfair to burden this poor mare with the knowledge. “You might have seen my image here and there. I used to do some modeling when I was younger, a bit of posing for statues in Cloudsdale... A few magazines... It’s a little embarrassing, actually.”

Well done!

“Oh, my! I’m sure that must be it.” Cup said. “Forgive me for prying.”

Celestia picked up her own coffee in her hooves, having already added sugar and cream to taste while they’d been talking. “Not at all. I am sorry I haven’t been by to see you. Pinkie talks about you often enough I feel like I already know you.”

“She is a dear.” Cup replied with a nod. “I imagine you’re the reason she’s been taking an extra dozen donuts with her when she goes to see Twilight. Is that right?”

“Guilty as charged.” Celestia said. “I had to venture out on my own if I wanted them today.”

Cup Cake nodded. “Pinkie’s supposed to be back later today. It’s so strange to think of her attending weddings being officiated by one of the Princesses, and staying over at the castle for the night.”

Celestia was honestly surprised, saying: “She is a national hero.”

“I suppose. But she’s also my most dependable foalsitter, and the pony who will move heaven and earth to put a smile on your face. The pony who can run my kitchen more efficiently than any four other ponies, myself and my husband included. She’s always been our hero.” Cup sighed fondly. “That probably sounds a little selfish.”

“No,” Celestia replied. “No, I can well understand, actually.”

“Aurora, does she seem... happy, to you?” Cup asked suddenly. “I mean... staying at the library, you might see her around Twilight quite a bit...”

“Well, yes, she does seem happy...” Celestia replied, nonplussed.

“And you’ve never caught her seeming down?” Cup pressed. “I worry, sometimes. She tries so hard to be happy for everyone else, it can be difficult to tell when she’s upset about something. Or maybe just concerned... Something is on her mind, is all I can tell.”

“I... I’m afraid I haven’t noticed.”

Cup Cake nodded, looking just a little disappointed, “It’s fine. Forgive me for asking. I was hoping, since you likely see her around Twilight, that maybe...” she shook her head ruefully. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

Celestia wracked her brain for any response that might help... and couldn’t think of a single thing. “I’m sorry,” she said lamely.

“Don’t be. I’m likely jumping at shadows.”

Celestia finished off her donut, washing it down with the remnants of her coffee. She felt like she should say something more, but in the end could only rely on long-trained etiquette on how to end an awkward meeting. “Well, it was a pleasure. I’ll just run back to the library—”

Her eyes widened as the box of donuts was deposited in front of her. She looked up questioningly, and saw Cup nudging the box towards her.

“On the house,” she said. “You’re Twilight’s friend.”

Celestia frowned as she regarded the box. She didn’t bother questioning whether Aurora was friends with Twilight, even if she’d introduced herself as being a friend of a friend. One did not stay as a guest of somepony for weeks without becoming their friend directly, after all. “That doesn’t sound like a good business practice.”

“Just tell Pinkie you had lunch with me. It will make her happy.” Cup said firmly.

Celestia hesitated for another moment before quietly acquiescing. It was unwise to unnecessarily question a Queen in her own castle. “Thank you.” she said instead.

“Just remember to tell her you stopped by. And, as a warning, she likely hasn’t given up on throwing you a party. If she really likes you, she might even let you know when it’s happening instead of springing it on you. No guarantees, though.”

Celestia grinned, knowing that Cup was likely right, and wondering if she shouldn’t just allow that to happen. She didn’t like the idea of Pinkie feeling like she couldn’t exercise her talent on Celestia’s behalf, grateful as she was for Pinkie’s decorum in not throwing her a party and revealing her presence to all of Ponyville.

But first, she decided she would go back to the library and try to find bits. After all, in all of her life, she’d never really shopped for herself. It might be nice to have dinner ready for when Twilight, Pinkie, and Spike got home.





After a nice lunch, Luna cut her Day Court session cut short when she became disgusted with the local tea vendors.

They had come to her as a group complaining that prices had risen, and no amount of explaining the Yinglong problem would mollify them. The loudest of them had been sent to her newly-dusted dungeons to meditate on his actions for an evening and the rest had been shouted at until they’d left.

She made a mental note to give her Press Corps a full detailing of the events that had transpired, and of the new trade agreement she had signed, in hopes that it might stave off future complaints from the other merchants that had been affected by the devastation wrought in Chineigh.

She went to visit Tibbles afterwards, and in that pursuit found herself in the branches of a tree in her Night Garden trying to coax her pet out from its hollowed out trunk where he had made a home. Normally, he came at her call instantly, but she hadn’t had time for a visit in the last few weeks and moreover it was early afternoon, when he would normally be sleeping. Consequently, he was a little surly with her, poking his head out and squeaking at her in a small, angry little voice.

“Tibbles, I really am very sorry I didn’t make time. I’m not very good with these hours and Our citizens require so much—” she stopped, feeling silly. “You can’t understand, of course.” she sat on the tree branch, allowing herself to slump and feeling very grateful that this was her private garden, and nopony was around to see her spurned by her own pet.

After a moment of silent reflection, she felt the scampering of little paws climbing through her mane, and shortly was face to upside-down face with her pet, who eyed her curiously with redder-than-normal eyes before letting out a yawn that looked as if he’d had to unhinge his jaw to unleash.

She reached up and grasped him with her hooves with a quiet little coo and cradled him in her arms as she looked down at him adoringly. “Thank you. All the more for not understanding why! Would that my citizens were as trusting...”

He squeaked at her in a sleepy yet pleased-sounding voice.

She had missed him greatly. Though Tibbles had his own bed in her room, she had elected to set him loose in the Night Garden while Middy was away, knowing that her schedule would not permit her time to spend with him as she should. Cooping him up in her room needlessly would have been pointless, cruel, and selfish on her behalf.

Yet still she had regretted her decision as she saw his empty bed night after night. Tibbles liked to snuggle, and his warm body nested in her mane helped her sleep after a long and lonely vigil of patrolling dreams.

She tweaked the end of his nose with her magic, laughing as he wriggled his whiskers at her. “Still, even if you cannot understand, I am very sorry. I hope you’ll also forgive me for disturbing your sleep.”

He squirmed, and she allowed him to move as he willed. He flipped around, standing upon his hind legs to nuzzle her nose before scampering back into the hollow of the tree.

She let out a loud sigh, promising herself she would return to him during hours when he could be more active. She was an alicorn, after all, and could function without rest if need be. And if Tibbles was not able to remain awake long enough for a proper visit, she did have some actual business to attend to.

“Drat,” she said, frowning.

She’d honestly hoped she could put the matter off indefinitely. But it was time to check in on the would-be embezzler Get Rich and see if he had maintained his path on the straight and narrow, as it were. She hadn’t heard of any problems thus far, but still felt a bit of personal responsibility for him, having put her trust in his willingness to reform. That feeling more or less obligated her to check in on him, rather than simply trust in her reports.

“Good day, Tibbles.” she whispered fondly into the trunk before allowing herself to slip down from the tree branch.

As her four hooves touched down, she felt a soft impact deep in her mane, and after a moment, found herself looking up at Tiberius’s upside-down muzzle once more.

“Tibbles?” she asked, her face tightening into a worried frown. “Is aught amiss?”

He chittered at her once more, let out a yawn, then settled down just behind her crown, making a nest of her mane. She pawed at her mane in an effort to reach him, but try as she might, he refused to budge.

“Tibbles...” she said plaintively, but to no avail. She could feel him shifting into a more comfortable position, his little breaths tickling her as it moved strands of her mane.

She sat beneath the tree for a time, at a loss. Had she any public appearances for the day, or had she not finished Day Court, having him in her mane would be unconscionable. But she really only had her meeting with Get Rich for the rest of the afternoon.

Tibbles was unlikely to be in any danger, since her mane was voluminous and he was used to riding therein on a regular basis. She shrugged, allowing herself a small smile. It would be nice to have him close, even sleeping as he was. Tibblekin’s mere presence made her happy.

She stood carefully feeling him lightly grasp at her mane as she shifted. This confirmed her suspicions that she would not have been able to shake him out had she wished to attempt it. Of course, if she truly wanted him out of her hair, she could have taken her mist form... but she rather liked him snuggled close.

“All right,” she said softly. “You can keep me company while I talk to the naughty embezzler, Tibbles.”

A quiet squeak followed by a yawn came as her only reply.





The office was small, and unpresuming. It held a desk, two chairs for visitors, a chair for the pony behind the desk, and a few file drawers. Rather unimpressive for a pony that had once held a healthy amount of the crown’s coin and used it for his own ends. The pony sitting at the desk wasn’t much to look at either.

Get Rich was dressed in a manner more appropriate for a laborer than a pony who made decisions. A simple work shirt of red and a hard hat of yellow was all he wore. On the work shirt she saw various pockets with small instruments for his work; pencils, a ruler, something that vaguely resembled a sextant, a large eraser, and what seemed to be a half eaten candy bar.

His coloring was similarly unremarkable, a coat of brown, mane of black, eyes of a dull grey. Only his cutie mark was in the least unusual about him: it was a small golden bit, an unusual talent for one in government work. She supposed somepony with a talent for money would be somewhat useful, as managing a budget was always necessary when one was in charge of public works. A money talent was useful for many different things.

It was a shame he’d exercised it in a way that had made him run afoul of her sister. And, of course, by extension, herself.

He didn’t seem to notice as she came in. Or rather, he noticed the intrusion, but not the intruder. He waved to one side of his desk, saying: “Just leave it there, and thanks.”

She regarded him with a single raised eyebrow, replying: “What am I meant to leave, exactly?”

The room became filled with scattered papers as Get Rich immediately jumped several feet into the air from a sitting position. Luna was suitably impressed with his feat, and waited patiently as he scrambled to retrieve the documents. She even helped him recover a few that managed to land under the meager furnishings, laying them neatly on the stack with the others he haphazardly piled back on the desk.

One of the guards who had escorted her on her excursion opened the door, poking his head inside. “Princess? Is everything all right?”

“Everything is fine, thank you,” Luna replied to him before turning her head back to Get Rich. “Guard the entryway, please. We are not to be disturbed.”

“As you wish, Your Highness.”

Luna took a seat at one of the two chairs facing Get Rich’s desk, gesturing for him to take his own.

“P-princess, I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you,” Get Rich muttered as he nervously shuffled his papers back together.

“We apologize for startling you, Get Rich. We simply wished to check on your progress and ensure thy muzzle remained unsullied,” she looked around, noting the smell of fresh ink and parchment with approval. “At the very least, it seems you’ve been busy.”

“I... I had a lot of apology letters to write,” he said slowly, his eyes following her as she looked around.

“So you did. And work began again in earnest. Workers are much more apt to perform when they are paid.”

“I never wanted anypony to have to go without, Princess. I simply—”

“You simply misplaced the funds needed to pay them. Very cleverly. I wanted to thank you for showing my accountants how you went about it. I’m told it was quite horrifying for them.“

“It was in the terms of my parole, Princess,” he said, shifting uncomfortably.

“I am aware, having set them myself. But you could have refused and forced me to imprison you. You could have withheld the identity of the business you invested your budget with. I imagine we might have recovered the money in time, but you made it all so much easier.”

She turned her attention to his stack of reports, lifting the top one. It appeared to be an invoice for cobblestone. “You’ve had no difficulty working with your accountant?”

“What, Old Money Bags? He’s a bit tight with the purse strings, I guess. Not much for a joke. Won’t go drinking with me and the boys—” He abruptly cut himself off with a small gasp.

When she looked back at him, he had a very odd look on his face. It wasn’t fear, or not exactly fear, more of a disbelief. “Is something amiss?”

“You... you have eyes in your mane...” he whispered quietly.

She looked upwards to see Tibblekins’s sniffing nose sticking out of her mane just before his whole head popped out. He squeaked urgently in the direction of Get Rich.

“Is this some sort of test?” he asked fearfully.

Luna clucked at Tibbles, and he scrambled down from her mane to curl around her neck. “Tibbles is my pet, Mr. Rich. Forgive me once again if he frightened you.”

“Oh! Sorry, Princess. I was just surprised is all. So... he’s not gonna bite me or anything?”

Luna looked at him quizzically, then looked down at Tibbles. “I don’t think so. He might be interested in that candy bar you have there, but he wouldn’t bite you unless you threatened him in some fashion.”

Get Rich quickly grabbed the candy in his teeth, holding it out for her. Tibbles leapt from her neck, snatched the candy from the stallion, and landed on his back, clutching it in all four paws while balancing on his own tailbone and nibbling at the treat.

“Huh. Lookit that.” Get Rich said as he glanced back at Tibbles.

“So, you are getting along well with the accountant?” Luna pressed.

“Well, yeah, I mean, he could loosen up a bit, but he’s okay.”

“And you’ve not lacked for personal means?”

He mouthed the words for a moment before responding. “Oh! You mean like food and stuff. Yeah, I’m doing fine. Thought I’d miss the yacht and all that, but... Eh, it was just stuff. Got to where I was taking bigger risks to make a little more so I could buy more stuff, and well, you know. Just glad I had the chance to make it right,” he tilted his helmet forward with a single hoof. “‘Preciate the chance.”

She nodded, happy with his words. “And... those stallions I sent you for work detail, have they been—”

“No trouble, Princess. They grumbled a bit but they settled in all right. Only the one had a chip on his shoulder, the others was just happy to work.”

“And the one with the chip?” she pressed.

“He got knocked around a bit when he got out of line. By his own guys, if you can believe that. Don’t expect him to be much trouble anymore.”

She let out a sigh of relief. Much as she had wanted the stallions punished, she had worried for the workers who had to work alongside them. “You seem to be doing well. I will leave you to your labors, Mr. Rich.”

Luna gave a little cluck at her pet, who immediately rolled over, grasped his candy with his teeth, and took a flying leap into her mane.

She left his office, feeling pleased. She had not had the opportunity to check on him since his sentencing. She’d seen the results of his work, of course, as repair crews had gone back to work all around the city, but she’d been concerned for the stallion himself.

The ponies of her age might have stoned him before exiling him, but her sister had instilled a strong sense of forgiveness in the populace during her absence. An almost unbelievable amount. A pony in this age could be forgiven for anything, so long as they were willing to change.

Getting a pony to forgive themselves was... more difficult.

She put the matter from the mind for the moment, though she thought she might whisper a word or two about him into Fancy’s ear at some point.

A pony with a money talent was useful for so many things, after all.





She spent a large part of the rest of her afternoon with Tibbles, staying until it was time to send the sun to its rest and greet the moon for the evening. All around her, the other creatures of the Garden came out to greet her, their various cries bringing a smile to Luna’s face.

During an evening in which she’d been entertaining Rarity and Fluttershy, Fluttershy had asked her if she could speak to them as she herself did. While she lacked a talent for true empathy with creatures as Dear Fluttershy had, she did have a certain base understanding for the feral creatures that hunted in the darkness.

One could even call it a kinship.

In preparation for the moonrise she added a few more stars to the sky just beyond the curtain of daylight (just to see if the astronomers would notice) and bid her menagerie a fine evening. The ground-dwelling creatures such as Tibbles would be fed by servants, of course, but the various bats in her Garden had a job to do; they helped control the insect population all around the base of the mountain.

When she had conceived of the Garden, she had imagined having wolves and raccoons and such roaming the streets to help with feral rodents and to literally consume the trash in the city. Celestia had objected to that, and so the matter had been dropped.

It still rankled a bit, it had been a very good idea.

Despite them not serving the purpose she had originally intended, she had gone ahead with her plans. Her Garden was populated with many examples of nocturnal creatures; as well as many night-blooming flowers that had been transplanted from her old Garden.

The same Garden that had been lovingly tended to by her very first love.

There were hundreds, perhaps thousands of flowers that bloomed in the light of the moon. Some were entirely unknown to ponies of this age, acquired in the dark depths of forests with foliage so thick that its inhabitants had never known the touch of her sister’s sun. When the moon was out, they all carried a light of their own, making them seem a private field of stars all around her.

The most common and prolific was also her favorite. Ponies had since ‘discovered’ it and named it some other nonsense, but its true name was the one Luna had given it when she’d first found it and presented to her hoofmaiden.

My Princess, you honor me, but surely such a beautiful bloom deserves a better name.

We can think of no other name for such beauty. Wouldst thou give it another?

I would, but Princess Luna seems an odd name for a flower. If you will it, I would gladly lend my name to it.

A mere hoofmaiden even daring to lay with a Princess of the land... Such a thing was unheard of then, even if it had been Luna who had approached first. Had they ever been found out, their affair would have potentially destroyed Luna and possibly her sister as well just by association. She would have married that mare, if the customs of the time had allowed it. She should have.

But her Night Blossom was long gone. Nopony would remember the sweet mare but Luna herself. Even Celestia had never known what she’d been to Luna.

She gazed at one of the flowers that were named for her first, last, and perhaps only love.

It was the perhaps that troubled her, as she wasn’t certain if it was true, any longer. Something had changed, almost without her willing it to be so.

Another flower had caught her eye. A fiery, willful thing.

“Ma petite... I hide nothing from my Fancy. He and I are a mated pair of scoundrels, and we share everything.”

“You...he...what?! What is the meaning of this?”

“This is why I must ask you to forgive me, ma chère. There was never any danger of a rift between Fancy and myself. My intent was to ask if you might join us, not separate us.” 

She still felt a thrill when she thought of how Fleur had blindsided her with that casual offer. Fleur had been so very brazen as to kiss her full on the lips and invite her to bed the very night they’d properly gotten to know each other. Luna, the Steward of Night, the Protector of Dreams, had felt... afraid, and excited, but also deeply troubled. And all of that before she knew what Fleur would truly become to her.

When she’d first proposed the idea of polyamory to her sister (as a solution to the ‘Twilight and Pinkie Problem’), she’d rather liked the idea of courting a couple herself.  She had even foolishly proposed to court two of her most dear friends, Fluttershy and Rarity, to see what it might be like to fall in love again.

“Luna, are you inviting us to bed this particular second?”

“N-no, we had in mind a long courtship, many evenings together watching the stars and perha—”

“Just a moment, darling. Fluttershy, if I understand you, you are not outright dismissing the idea; you just never considered that the princess might be serious in her flirtations?”

“Um... well... maybe... yes?”

“Right! Well then, Luna, I hope you’ll understand that we are still feeling out our own relationship and would not necessarily be very certain about the idea of a third, even if it were on a casual basis. And, if I understand... your intentions are less than casual?”

“I... We... had thought the more formal means—”

“Yes, I see the way of it. Fluttershy, She seems to be on the up and up about it. Are you sure we want to turn her down just like that?”

“Um... I... I don’t know,”

“Here’s what I think, if you’ll indulge me further. I think stargazing and the occasional night out with a friend sounds perfectly lovely. And should things progress... I wouldn’t have any objections. What I’m not hearing is either of you saying that you’re against the idea, just that you want to move slowly. Have I hit the mark?”

“Yes!”

“Um... okay,”

It had seemed so very appealing, to get to know them, to see if love would blossom from mere attraction, and to follow up on that attraction.

That vain wish had very nearly cost her their friendship. And though they had assured her that they had forgiven her, and were still not opposed to such a thing, the whole experience had made her wary of attempting such again.

Things with Fleur and Fancy were... different. She’d never even entertained the idea of such a thing with them, because she had assumed she understood what she was to them; a favored plaything and close friend.

She found herself at a bit of a loss. Despite promising herself she would do nothing to potentially embarrass her sister after their rift was mended, here she was again, tempting fate, with a married couple no less.

It was supposed to have been simple. She’d read all about it after being introduced to how very different ponies treated attraction in the current age. Things that might have gotten a pony stoned in her age were not exactly common now, but neither were they so uncommon they would cause a pony to be shunned from a community. Friends could be lovers, and indeed, couples did sometimes take a third or even more into the bedroom for variety, and this was considered normal.

And so, Luna had done her best to adapt. She had been successful after much worry, discussions with Fleur and Fancy, and more worry. She had found being Fleur’s lover was delightful, and equally so for Fancy, though she still preferred Fleur of the two, as Fancy was sometimes a little too accommodating.

Her sweet Blossom would likely have been happy to know of it, despite Luna’s assurances that she doubted she would ever take a lover again. It had felt right, then. One made such bold declarations to a beloved as they lay on their deathbed.

But, after so very long, she had come to accept the idea of taking lovers. She had even accepted that she might seek out romance for herself once more, given time and familiarity.

She hadn’t counted on being loved, instead, fool that she was.

She shook herself as the connection she’d established with the sun made her realize that she’d let it stay up overlong in her reverie, and she quickly lowered it while raising the moon.

The flower in front of her bloomed, glowing dimly in the moonlight, and somewhere she heard the quiet laughter of her beloved.
> Chapter 2: Draconian Negotiations
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight Sparkle watched Ponyville approach from far below as the train circled down the mountainside.

It was still far away, as train rides tended to take quite a bit of time, although strangely they never seemed to take as long when she was going back home. It was a phenomenon she kept meaning to study, but usually she enjoyed the trip too much to actually break out instruments to do so.

Princess Luna had offered the use of her carriage, but neither Twilight nor Pinkie had been in an immediate hurry. Also, taking the train allowed Pinkie to bring home more party supplies, which Pinkie had insisted were getting critically low after doing the wedding decorations.

“Ooo, ooo! I spy, with my little eye, something blue!”

“Is it the sky?” Twilight asked in a slightly tired voice.

“No, silly!”

“A lake?”

“Still nope!”

Given the volume of supplies Pinkie had packed, Twilight was at a loss as to where she planned to keep it all. Pinkie had demonstrated she kept stashes of supplies nearly everywhere (perhaps based on future need as sensed by Pinkie Sense? More study was needed), but Twilight was beginning to suspect that her marefriend had some sort of large storehouse, or maybe even a cavern somewhere in which she kept the bulk of it.

She certainly wasn’t keeping it in her bedroom. Twilight had seen every nook and cranny of that.

“I give up.” Twilight said after scanning the horizon for a final time.

“It’s one of the Wonderbolts!” Pinkie said, pointing triumphantly at a tiny figure in a blue jumpsuit that could just barely be seen in the blue sky.

“Ah.”

Of course, it wasn’t Pinkie’s party supplies that had Twilight really worried. Or, at least, not only the party supplies.

The true source of worry was Pinkie herself.

Pinkie tucked her head back into their carriage, sitting down next to Twilight with a little plop and hugging her close. “You’ve got the crinkles again.” she said, looking into Twilight’s eyes. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

Twilight’s eyes darted the other way. “Just Twilight worries,” she replied evasively.

Pinkie and Twilight had... a unusual relationship, to say the least. Which wasn’t to say they didn’t love each other, just that things had started out in exactly the wrong way. Or maybe it was the right way, for them. Twilight wasn’t sure anymore.

She just knew that the way they had started out had made Pinkie unhappy, and they’d been trying to get it right ever since. They’d broken up twice, the second time being the worst, and Twilight never wanted to see what a third time would do to them both.

Pinkie gently pulled Twilight’s muzzle towards her own until their eyes met again. “Twi-twi worries are Pinkie worries. Tell me.”

Since getting back together for the second time, they’d been on two dates. The first had been entirely planned by Pinkie, a very sweet picnic while stargazing, which had ended with Pinkie giving her a simple good-night kiss.

The second had been as perfect as perfect could be, and had been planned by them both. They’d gone to see their favorite romantic movie, had gone out to dinner, and had finished the night with Twilight escorting Pinkie back to Sugarcube Corner, where Twilight had given Pinkie the good night kiss.

Twilight was supposed to plan the third, and she really, really wanted it to go just right.

“It’s going to be okay,” Twilight said, as much to Pinkie as to herself.

If she tried really hard, she could almost make herself believe it.

The third date was the important one. All of the dating etiquette books agreed on that point. It was supposed to be when you first shared yourself with your partner. And although it was a purely symbolic thing in their case, it still scared the willies out of Twilight.

Pinkie kissed her lightly on the cheek, flashing her a smile that was only slightly marred by the disappointment Twilight saw in those beautiful, blue eyes. “Of course it is, silly.”

Neither Twilight nor Pinkie were strangers to what went on in the bedroom. That was part of what had been wrong to begin with. They’d spent an awful lot of time enjoying themselves together physically, to the exclusion of everything else that a couple was supposed to be to one another. Twilight blamed herself for that, as she did for most things.

Physical intimacy was easy, it was the sharing herself part that had always been the problem for Twilight. Mostly... because she hadn’t really thought of herself as being somepony worth sharing.

Twilight put on a brave face with as big a smile as she could manage. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Do you see anything else?”

“Something purple and cute,” Pinkie said without looking away.

Twilight blushed, her smile becoming much less of an artifact for Pinkie’s sake. “So, your own reflection in my eyes?”

Pinkie’s smile dropped as she frowned in confusion. “What? Are you loco in the cocoa? I’m not purple, Ms. Purpley Purple Pants!”

They bantered back and forth for a little while, Twilight carefully explaining about light waves and how the color pink was not quite in the color spectrum, being closer to purple than red, to the increasing outrage of Pinkie.

“Pink is so a color!”

“Well, it’s a shade of color, or a hue, really...”

“Who? I thought you said it’s supposed to be whom? And don’t change the subject!”

“No, not who, hue,” Twilight said. Seeing Pinkie’s blank expression she sighed. “Okay, it’s like if I wanted to make pink paint I’d take red and white, but for pink light you need red and blue—”

“Those make purple!” Pinkie said insistently.

“Yes, but they also make other hues if you mix them just right—”

“Whomses!”

Twilight winced at the butchering of language, but pressed on to make her point. “Ahahaha... Anyway, one of those is what we call pink, although you’re more of a pale raspberry—”

Pinkie grasped both sides of Twilight’s head in her two hooves with a crazed look in her eyes. “Twilight, don’t make me a raspberry! I like pink! It’s my favorite color!”

“I didn’t—” Twilight stopped talking, really looking into Pinkie’s eyes, and saw and alarm. She threw her arms around Pinkie and held her close. “You’re not a raspberry. You’ll always be pink. Okay?”

Pinkie returned the embrace, letting out a sniffle.

Twilight continued to hold her, stroking through Pinkie’s mane with one hoof. “It’s all about how we see the world, Pinkie. They’re just words.”

“They’re your words.” Pinkie replied as she pulled away to look at Twilight once more. “Your words are important. I mean, I like purple. Purple’s great! But I like you purple more than me purple.”

Twilight stopped just short of mentioning that she was more of a mulberry, as it really wouldn’t have helped and might have caused Pinkie to panic again about Twilight being the one about to turn into a berry.

While she was grateful that the subject of her worries had been temporarily forgotten, the cost of worrying Pinkie had been too high. She should have known better. Questioning pink was as good as questioning Pinkie Pie’s existence, in a way.

“Okay, I’ll be the purple one.” Twilight said with a wry little smile.

“Yay!” Pinkie replied, throwing her arms around Twilight and squeezing her until it felt like her head was about to pop.

They rode together in relative silence for a time, Pinkie humming to herself while kicking her rear hooves back and forth, gently rocking with the motion of the train. Twilight watched the sky, noting that there were quite a few clouds, and wondering if Rainbow had remembered to tell the weather team about her little trip.

Knowing her, probably not. At least Applejack told her family.

She hoped their trip went well. At the very least with both Rainbow and Applejack flying on the way there it should have gone quickly, though they were towing the balloon behind them for the return trip, so that would slow them down a little.

I’ve really got to see if there’s some way to make the wings last longer. Twilight mused to herself as she looked away from the window and back to Pinkie. She had a sudden image of herself, Pinkie and Celestia all flying together.

I bet the Princess would have stories about Cloudsdale nopony else would ever know... she thought, and wondered what form her wings might take when she cast them next time.

“Do you think Celly misses us yet?” Pinkie asked suddenly.

“We’ve only been gone a couple of days, Pinkie.” Twilight responded.

“Yeah, but like... we were her only company. And Celly is used to seeing ponies all the time.” Pinkie frowned, muttering, “I knew we should have gone back right after the wedding.”

“Pinkie, Princess Celestia is not some silly pony who gets lonely after one day.” Twilight explained patiently. “She’s probably getting some more reading done.”

“Yeah, except she’s been reading a lot since she’s been staying with us, and nopony can read all the time, Twi-twi.”

Twilight stared at Pinkie for a long moment, incensed by the idea that anypony could possibly be bored by reading. However, in the spirit of the perspective she’d been touting, she had to begrudgingly acknowledge that Pinkie had a point.

Even Twilight herself didn’t read all of the time, just as much as she could manage, and occasionally so much that she passed out (though she was getting better at stopping on time, and where she forgot she had Pinkie, Spike, and Celestia’s well-meant reminders and occasional outright demands to help her). “I suppose that’s true, but we are on the way home now. So if she does miss us, it won’t be for much longer.”

Pinkie thought about that for a long moment, a little frown on her face, then she nodded. “We still should hug her lots for the hugs we missed. Plus some extra hugs for Spike.”

“Spike can give her his own hugs when he gets back,” Twilight said with a little laugh.

“Yeah, but he’s gonna be staying in Canterlot again for a week! That’s a lot of hugs missed! We have to help out, Twi-twi!”

Twilight gave her head a little shake, not disagreeing, it was more in bewilderment. “Fine, extra hugs from Spike.”

Thinking about it, Twilight realized it was going to be a little lonely for herself as well. Certainly Pinkie was still going to be in Ponyville, and Celestia, and of course she had made many other friends in Ponyville since she’d taken up residence there. But it wouldn’t be quite the same with their other four friends.

Still, Applejack and Rainbow wouldn’t be gone more than a few days, and Rarity and Fluttershy were only spending a week in Mareis for their honeymoon. It was just difficult to think about them and not be able to go immediately to their residence to say hello and check in on them.

She’d always known, empirically, that she and her friends had other interests outside of each other that might take time away from the group dynamic. Rarity and Rainbow had career aspirations, Fluttershy had her woodland friends, Pinkie was friends with nearly everypony she met, and Applejack had her vast extended family.

She had factored in the concept of each of them dating, as well. Admittedly, not all at once, and not each other. She supposed much as they’d been drawn together as friends, the same bonds of fate had led to the current state of affairs. Who they were dating wasn’t as important as the fact that it had happened all at once and without Twilight being prepared for it. She knew their friendships could weather time apart just like any other challenge, but that didn’t change the fact that weathering it would involve a good deal of adjustment and no small amount of heartache.

“You’re crinkling again.” Pinkie said, laying her head down on Twilight’s lap and gazing up at her. “What’s got you all knotted up inside now?”

“I... I’m just thinking about our friends.” Twilight admitted. It was safe enough to talk about, at least. And it was a worry, just not the primary one weighing on her mind.

“Really?” Pinkie asked. She didn’t seem like she was disbelieving so much as earnestly confused. “Dashie’s not sick anymore, and Rarity’s all better too!”

“Not about their health, Pinkie. Just... that they won’t be home for a while.”

“Oh.” Pinkie said, sitting up. She rearranged herself so she was sitting next to Twilight, but didn’t make any move to embrace her or otherwise drape herself over Twilight, though she did put a single arm over Twilight’s shoulder. It wasn’t the playful Pinkie or the silly and sometimes sultry Pinkie that held her now, but instead one of her best friends, trying to comfort her.

Twilight said nothing, leaning into Pinkie’s warmth. It was nice to be reminded that, for all that they’d become to each other, Pinkie would always be her friend, first and foremost. The same could be said for their other four friends.

“I miss them too.” Pinkie confided, nuzzling into Twilight’s mane. “But they’ll be back, and they’ll have stories to tell. And they’ll bring home touristy junk, like poker chips and fuzzy dice, and baguettes! And it’ll be so nice to have them back.”

“It will,” Twilight said. And even if she was unsure how exactly it would all work out, she had utter conviction that it would, somehow. She could cling to that much, even if everything else seemed uncertain.





They arrived in Ponyville in the late afternoon. After their small mountain of baggage was unpacked from the cargo car of the train, Pinkie led the way in great leaps and bounds while Twilight followed, surrounded by a swarm of floating bags like a flock of the least aerodynamic birds to ever grace the skies.

She had a vague hope that she might discover where Pinkie planned to keep it all, only to be thwarted by Pinkie’s insistence that the bags be taken to her room upstairs ‘for now’. Pinkie would presumably be squirrelling the supplies away later, and unless Twilight was prepared to stalk her in the middle of the night, it was unlikely she’d get any new answers that day.

Which wasn’t to say she was above stalking Pinkie so much, as she thought she was going to be too tired to do it that evening. She had plans with her chalkboard down in the laboratory.

On the chalkboard she had her projections for various scenarios that might occur during the third date, rated by how disastrous the end result. What she was attempting was not true perfection, but rather the least worst possible outcome. Bonus points if she actually made it to one of the ‘good’ branches on the path she’d laid out.

Unfortunately, her own pessimism was skewing the perceived odds. To counterbalance this, she was trying to find a plan that offered the least amount of possible damages if she were to fail. It hadn’t been going well. After the train ride with Pinkie, she was feeling slightly better, and hoped it would make a difference.

“Twi-twi! C’mon!” Pinkie called to her from down the street.

Twilight dutifully stepped up her light trot to a canter, not having realized she had fallen behind. “Coming!”

She caught up very quickly to her surprise, because Pinkie had stopped in the middle of the street, squinting furiously in the direction of the marketplace with a confounded look.

“Is something wro—” was all she managed to say before Pinkie shushed her with a hoof.

She got up on her hind legs, opening her eyes as wide as she could, then did a cartwheel sideways while steadily maintaining her gaze in the same direction.

“She’s new. I know she’s new. But she doesn’t feel new.” Pinkie muttered, bouncing up and down, all the while keeping her eyes open in an unblinking stare. “I don’t know her birthday. And I know everypony’s birthday that I’ve ever met, but I don’t know hers!”

Twilight watched the display with growing concern. It was far outside the norm, if anything Pinkie did could be called normal. It wasn’t Pinkie being Pinkie, something was really bothering her. “Maybe she just... looks like somepony you know?” Twilight asked hesitantly. She hadn’t yet determined what Pinkie was looking at, but she was familiar with the concept of deja vu. “I mean, sometimes we see something or somepony very similar to what we’ve seen before and we have an odd sense—”

Pinkie grabbed Twilight’s head in her forehooves and pointed it in the direction of a particular stall, asking in a disturbingly calm voice: “Do you know her?”

Twilight dutifully looked, seeing a very tall mare in the distance. She had to admit the mare did look familiar. Twilight couldn’t see a cutie mark because of the form-fitting dress covering the other mare’s flanks, but the strikingly statuesque figure made Twilight wonder if she was perhaps one of the models that she’d seen during one of Rarity’s fashion shows, or maybe somepony that had posed for magazine ads. “I’m not sure...” she demurred.

“Is something weird about her mane?” Pinkie whispered. “Like... you can’t quite look at it?”

“What do you...” Twilight trailed off mid-sentence as she attempted to look at the mare’s mane, and simply could not. Her eyes opened wide in surprise as she tried again, only to find the same phenomenon repeating: her gaze noticeably shifted as she tried to focus it on that incredibly long pink mane.

Twilight was a mare of many talents, being that her talent was magic itself. But in particular, she was very, very good at spotting things that were off about a pony. It was a talent she’d first developed while in Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, which had allowed her to see past basic illusions of her classmates.

She’d further honed it after the attempted invasion at her own brother’s wedding. It wasn’t a spell that allowed this more than it was simple observation. Something about the mare across the marketplace from them did not want to be seen, and there was a glamour of some type in effect to ensure that.

Given that the mare in question had all the appearances of being a pegasus was even more confounding. The fact that Twilight’s own eyes did not want to focus on a particular part of a pony suggested a spell of some sort. This oddly reassured her, as a changeling would not have needed magic to hide something about themselves; their very nature was malleable. But did that mean somepony had cast a glamour on her mane for her?

“I see what you mean,” Twilight whispered back to Pinkie. “There is something strange about her.”

She blinked for a second, looking at where Pinkie should have been, only to find her marching off towards the other side of the market, keeping her eyes focused on the strange pony as if she were prey.

“Pinkie!” Twilight hissed urgently. “What are you doing?”

“She’s new.” Pinkie whispered back. “And I don’t know her birthday. So even if something is weird about her, I need to welcome her to Ponyville!”

“But we don’t know anything about her other than something is weird!” Twilight said, following along despite herself.

“That’s why I need to talk to her! I’m never gonna find out her birthday just staring at her!”

“But what if—” she cut herself off as Pinkie circled around the mare, who had been browsing at a tomato stand, and waved up at her to get her attention.

“Hi! I’m Pinkie Pie! I just got back to Ponyville or I would have already greeted you and maybe sang you a song and thrown you a party! I’m so sorry I missed you! What’s your name?”

It was then that Twilight saw two things: a side profile of a very familiar face and the flaring out of a pair of giant wings as the mare reared back in surprise.

Twilight could perhaps be forgiven for not recognizing who Pinkie had been looking at while they were behind her. As much as Twilight had seen this particular backside, it had always been much larger than it was currently, and that was accounting for the perspective of a foal looking up. But even with her slightly diminished form, there was no way at all Twilight could mistake her own mentor’s face.

By the time the wings flared out in her direction, Twilight regarded them not so much with dread as a sort of dull acceptance. After that, she was a little busy anticipating being sent flying to react further.

Thankfully, the blow never came, though her mane was blown back by a massive gust of wind and she swore she could feel a wingtip graze her nose.

“Um... Hello!” Celestia replied, in what sounded like a startled falsetto voice to Twilight. “M-my name is Aurora?”

“Hi, Aurora!” Pinkie replied with a smile reserved especially for greeting new ponies. “Welcome to Ponyville!” She hopped up, throwing her arms around Aurora’s neck and giving her a quick hug before letting herself drop back down and looking up expectantly.





Oh my, she is just adorable, isn’t she? 

“Thank you.” ‘Aurora’ replied with a smile of her own. In truth, she was unsure what to do in this situation. She’d supposed she could ‘introduce’ herself to Twilight and Pinkie when they got home, but apparently she’d let herself get a little too engrossed in shopping to pay attention to the time.

Consequently, she was now faced with the two ponies who would immediately be able to call into question her claim that she was staying in the library, and was nervously racking her brain about how to handle that.

Pinkie was still looking up expectantly, although her expression was shifting from simple happiness to slightly-confused happiness. “Heeeyyyy... I think I know—”

Oh dear, the jig is up, I’m afraid. Well done for your first outing, but you’ll likely have a town full of questions to answer, now.

“Hi!” Twilight said, forcibly inserting herself between Pinkie and Celestia. “Welcome to Ponyville! Could we trouble you to come to the library with us so we can maybe talk about what I’m sure is going to be party plans in a place that isn’t in the middle of town?”

Saved by the faithful student! We may survive this yet!

The mention of a party immediately had Pinkie beaming again. “Yeah, we gotta throw—” Pinkie stopped after a mere moment, frowning up at Celestia. “Wait a minute! I do know—”

“That sounds wonderful!” Celestia said quickly. “I’m sure I can clear up anything you might want to know there.”

“But—” Pinkie began, until her voice abruptly cut off. Celestia instantly recognized the spell Twilight had hastily cast on Pinkie as being a very quick and dirty noise cancellation spell, obviously one Twilight had prepared at a moment’s notice.

“Pinkie, we have a lot of baggage to put away, and you have a party to plan!” Twilight said firmly.

Pinkie tried to talk for several seconds before realizing they could not hear her, after which she began to frantically mime in Celestia’s direction.

Twilight then trotted into her own spell’s field of influence, having a few words with Pinkie that only the two of them could hear, then turned and cantered off into the direction of the library. Pinkie frowned, but followed suit, trailing behind Twilight and what appeared to be a massive cloud of baggage.

“Ma’am?” The tomato vendor asked politely, having been all but forgotten. “Did you still need these?”

Celestia hesitated, then smiled apologetically, saying: “I’ll have to come back another day.” She cantered off in the direction of the library as well, eventually needing to break into a full gallop to catch up.





Luna had arrived precisely when she’d meant to: just after sundown. It was the sun that was a little late that evening. Luna hoped it wouldn’t cause as much of a fuss as the delayed sunrise had some weeks ago.

She’d had every intention of lowering it on schedule, but had spent an indeterminate amount of time staring at a flower and reflecting on how very foolish she was. Her moon was cross with her, having been already impatient to begin what was to be an ever-shortening cycle as the summer approached. The sun had at least been slightly less contentious, being fatigued from its longer trek and seemingly playful in its resistance against she who was not its master, for which she was grateful.

True to his word, Middy had informed the guards that Princess Luna would not require an escort for the evening, and so the guards outside her room did not blink as a cloud of sparkle-filled mist flowed up her stairs and under her door, only for her to emerge a moment later sans regalia and in a very form-fitting black and silver dress that she’d picked out earlier in the day.

She arrived at the home of her dear friends in the time it took to blink, stepping into the shadow of a corner of the stairwell and emerging from an alley nearest to their home, startling a stray black cat who had been stalking a rat amongst some refuse. By way of apology, she stunned the rat with the barest tendril of her will and bid the cat good hunting for the remainder of the night.

To a casual onlooker, she must have looked like a ghost, appearing suddenly from the darkness in a shimmering gown, her face framed by the night sky in the form of her voluminous mane.

To Fancy’s guards that watched his front door, she was a more common sight, though she supposed no less impressive for it. They opened the door without question, the one on the left even smiling very slightly. “She’ll be pleased you made it,” he whispered, before being cuffed unceremoniously by his counterpart on the opposite side of the door.

She frowned at him, but made no effort to discipline him for his impertinence. He was not hers to punish, after all, and she well knew that Fancy and Fleur had an... unusual relationship with their staff that made for greater familiarity than was perhaps appropriate. Impropriety aside, they were singularly loyal to their mistress and master, and very supportive of things that made their benefactors happy. They were also very discreet, which was yet another reason she allowed such minor misbehavior.

She walked into the crowded room with no fanfare, wading through crowds of ponies with a look of pristine indifference that she had cultivated during many of these events. She was greeted by some, and she nodded in acknowledgement to them before moving on, but most wisely went about their own business of the evening. She was not here for them, and they knew that.

The two she was here for waited on the other side of the crowd, and were currently entertaining the Worthinghams, a couple that often frequented Fancy’s events and until recently had been going through some troubles with their marriage (in that the Lord had trouble not cheating on his wife and the Lady had in turn been prompted to make some indiscretions of her own) which Luna had seen fit to meddle with (in that she had threatened a lifetime’s worth of nightmares if the Lord didn’t get his act together and make things right with his Lady). Luna noted with approval that the older couple were smiling, sitting together in the same loveseat, and holding hooves with no show of reticence in their body language.

Whether it would last remained to be seen, but for the moment, it seemed they had reached an understanding with each other. She knew from their dreams there was yet love between them, a strong one even, thus the extremes to which they hated when the pendulum shifted.

When they saw her approach, they quietly bid their adieus. Even as moneyed as they were, nopony who attended Fancy’s parties more than once thought to intrude on Luna when she could attend. Not if they expected to be invited to another ever again.

To Fleur’s credit, the squeal she let out as the crowd parted to reveal Luna was only audible to those within trotting distance of where Fancy was seated. Likewise the embrace, while very fond, did not include the kiss she so clearly wanted to give Luna.

“Ma Princesse! You came!” Fleur uttered excitedly, ushering Luna to the newly vacated loveseat and sitting down next to her on it.

“We apologize for Our lateness—” Luna began before Fleur cut her off with a musical laugh and a chest compressing hug.

“Ma petite, you are welcome no matter the time. I am simply glad you are here!” Fleur said, making herself comfortable in the curve of Luna’s side.

Fancy smiled indulgently at his wife before standing to greet Luna, taking one of her forehooves in his own and kissing the silver shod tip. “It’s as she says, Princess. Any time you wish to visit, you’re welcome. Though advance notice is pleasant, as it lets us prepare ahead of time.”

“Yes, I can understand that,” Luna replied. “I’ll be sure to send word, it’s easy enough for me. However, it seems I must provide a better means for invitations to arrive.” Luna’s horn flashed for a moment, and from midair a bundle of scrolls tied together with gossamer and lace dropped onto Fleur’s lap.

Fleur had been busy nuzzling Luna’s wing, and looked surprised as the bundle landed. She looked at the scrolls, then back to Luna. “A present, ma cherie?”

Luna nodded. “They are enchanted. Simply write what you wish, touch the scroll to flame, and they will burn away clean to be whisked to me directly.”

For a long moment, Fleur looked like she was going to pout, then she sighed and said: “If you insist.”

Luna looked at Fleur quizzically. “I... thought it would make communications easier. Or that it would at the least not require the intervention of outside agencies?”

Fancy rolled his eyes, taking a glass from the proffered drinks tray that had been brought up at his signal. “Don’t be overly concerned, Princess. Fleur rather enjoyed browbeating our former foalnappers into doing her that small favor. “

“Fancy! You promised you would say nothing!” Fleur said testily, snatching up a glass of wine and taking in a long draught before settling down at Luna’s side once more.

“I promised nothing at all, beloved. You said I should say nothing.”

Fleur grumbled under her breath, yet did not look entirely displeased.

“Shall I take the scrolls back?” Luna asked after a long moment.

“No, leave the gift.” Fleur said decisively. “I will have them deliver you flowers instead.”

Luna blinked, taking a glass for herself and hiding her expression within it briefly. “As you wish, Fleur.” Her dark colouration made it difficult to tell when she was blushing. A fact for which she was very grateful.

“So...” Fancy said. “You’ve been busy.”

“Yes,” Luna replied with a grimace. “I’ve had nary a moment to myself for some time, given all the daily duties of state. But Midnight is back, now, so...”

Fleur mock-punched Luna in her shoulder, smirking at her. “Yes, ma petite. Because he meant that, and not when you ran off to another country to fight a dragon.”

“Oh,” Luna replied, feeling a little foolish. “Yes, that did happen.”

“And what exactly did happen, Luna?” Fancy asked, leaning forward in rapt attention. “We’ve really only heard of the aftermath. Frightfully expensive to get tea, now.”

“We... did put out a press release upon Our return...”

“Yes, the official press release said you were traveling to deal with a potential threat to Equestria, while the accompanying stories all said you were in cahoots with Neighsia to quadruple the prices of imports.”

“What?” Luna said, her eyes wide. “Who would dare?”

“Every newspaper, Princess.” Fancy replied. “There is some variation. Some say you’re conspiring with the Scoltish Shipping Empire instead. Of course, the fringe newspapers are still writing about how you have your sister entrapped in a dungeon under the city... Or that you are in fact Queen Chrysalis and have both sisters imprisoned.”

Luna didn’t quite know what to say, but wild visions filled her head of dunking reporters in boiling ink and then tossing them on a pyre of their own misbegotten printed lies.

“Mon Coeur, you are upsetting her!” Fleur said with an angry glare. “Do not trouble yourself,  ma petite. The newspapers will have their scandals.”

“Charlatans, all of them!” Luna seethed. “It’s simple spite.”

“It’s speculation, actually.” Fancy replied, blowing a kiss to Fleur. “I thought I might bring it up because it’s been a bit rampant, even for Canterlot. It’s fine and good to pick and choose your own Press Corps as you did, but if you give the rest of the press nothing, you risk them drawing their own conclusions.”

“Nay, it is spite. I gave them an entire prepared speech upon my taking up my sister’s duties, and they ignored me simply because my sister wasn’t there!” Luna said, her anger still simmering. “That’s why I tossed them all out on their posteriors and Middy replaced them with ponies willing to do their jobs!”

“Understandable,” Fancy said judiciously. “But there’s a reason your sister kept them close to her. Many of those journalists have decades-long careers and dedicated readers. They are respected, and are going to write stories regardless of what they hear from the crown directly. Placing them in her Press Corps allowed Celestia to at least take a hoof in what they wrote about.”

Luna snorted disdainfully. “A hoof in their choices? I think not. I’d rather give them a hoof wherein the light does not go! The slander I’ve read about both her and myself is beyond the pale. She should have thrown them out ages ago. I should have thrown them in the dungeon.”

Fancy Pants shrugged, draining the rest of his glass. “Perhaps. But you’ve more or less been ignoring them for weeks now, and no real harm came of it. I just wanted you to be aware, in case it does become an issue. Most ponies are quite sensible when it comes to believing their own eyes and ears, and you’ve done well for the citizens.”

Fleur nodded enthusiastically. “What he says is true, ma petite. Ponies grumble and complain, but few believe the rumor mill at all. It would, however, help if they knew more.”

Luna indulged herself in one final internal fit of anger before she took a long, deep and cleansing breath. “Very well. I have been entirely too occupied with day to day matters to worry about such things, but now that I have time once more, I will think upon what should be shared about my experiences in the east.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” Fancy replied.

Luna nodded, flashing him an apologetic grin. “I did not intend to spoil our visit by getting upset, my friends. Tis simply a sore subject.” She drained her own glass, taking another from the tray. “Pray tell, what word of the Worthinghams?”

Fleur snickered at Luna’s side.

Fancy gave her a warning look, for which she stuck her tongue out at him. He grabbed another drink for himself and rolled his eyes at her. “They are very much on the mend.”

“It would be sweet if I did not know them at all,” Fleur said with a grimace. “As it is, I find it disturbing.”

“I find it sweet regardless,” Fancy said with a slow smile. “I should hope we’re still holding hooves at their age.”

“Speak for yourself, mon coeur! I have no intention of getting old...”

Luna smiled outwardly as the two of them bantered for a time, but inwardly she was troubled. She was becoming less and less uncertain about her feelings for the pair, and that was as frightening as it was exhilarating.

Equestria's law did not have a precedent for a single Royal Consort, much less a pair. Which wasn’t to say none of the royalty of her age had taken one, but that they were never declared publicly.

Regardless, if it truly was love she was feeling, she refused to simply hide it as she had with Night Blossom. Though even the idea sent fresh worries through her mind. Should there be a ceremony? Perhaps she should just declare it to the citizens and let them say what they would? Or some combination of both?

At the very least it would make Celestia’s own declaration easier, later on. That was a plus, at least. Though perhaps she would end up... 'stealing Celestia’s thunder', as it were, by doing so? Her sister had been going through a lot of late. There had been a time in which she would have gladly stolen the show from her sister just for a little attention. That time had passed.

“Yoohoo! Are you with us, princesse?”

Luna smiled apologetically. “Yes, I was just lost in thought for a moment.”

Fleur looked her straight in the eyes, and held her gaze for an indeterminate length of time before smiling and gently booping her on the nose. “I cannot remain cross with you, ma petite.”

Luna rubbed her nose, uncertain how to respond. “Did I miss something?”

“Nothing terribly important, Luna.” Fancy replied promptly. “Fleur was asking after your sister. We were both wondering how her recovery is progressing.”

Luna’s confused expression cleared, and she smiled once more. “Ah. She is doing well. The last I saw of her I unfortunately had to forbid her from accompanying me to Neighsia. It displeased her, to say the least. That was only a few weeks ago.”

“I see,” Fancy said, pulling out his pipe and packing it thoughtfully. “I thought she was more or less fine, physically?”

“She is. ‘Tis her magic that needs replenishment. Only time and rest will accomplish that, and fending off a giant flying snake is anything but restful.” Luna replied, taking and devouring a canape from yet another servant that brought them by. Her eyes twinkled happily; the savory brie and basil did wonders to lighten her heart. “She might have enjoyed yelling at Old Torch, though. I found it very therapeutic, and the other dragons seemed to enjoy the prospect of impending doom.”

Fancy’s eyebrows rose in a rare expression of surprise. “Did something go wrong with negotiations?”

Luna shook her head. “It went as expected. When treating with dragons you must be prepared to utterly destroy them. Anything less than the ability to annihilate their species will cause them to lose respect for you. Torch was still upset about some of his relatives being slain in my honor many tens of centuries ago, and was set on destroying the entire family lines of the ones responsible. Since the ponies in question were some of the most prolific stallions in known history, it would have meant losing around eighty percent of our population.”

“That... sounds unpleasant,” Fleur said with wide eyes. “I feel I would miss many of those ponies, and the prospect of others I would not miss being rent asunder does not make up for that.”

“Fear not, Dame. You were amongst the eighty, as was Fancy. Your end would have been quick and relatively painless, as dragonfire burns to the bone in short order, quicker than most nerves can send pain signals.”

“Well... that’s comforting, in a grisly sort of way,” Fancy said, looking faintly ill. “How does one even respond to that?”

“I countered his demand with a promise to boil his lands and people with sunfire should any of his kind make any moves of hostility in our land, and that any survivors would be beset with the worst nightmares I could conceive of for the rest of their lives as I hunted them down personally. Considering the tortures I contemplated for my sister as I was trapped on the moon going insane for one thousand years, the things I would do to the living would make them envy the dead.”

It was a very long moment before Fancy spoke again. “H-how did you come away from that without open warfare between our lands?”

“I brought a very good diplomat with me. Also, a cake the size of a small house.”

“A... cake,” Fancy said breathlessly.

Luna nodded in all earnestness. “I am very grateful for the existence of cake. When I last treated with Torch, I was forced to display my dominance with a drinking contest. Some regrettable things happened to the landscape in the aftermath.”

“What sort of things?” Fleur asked from Luna’s side.

“The Dragon Lands were once filled with verdant mountains, the tops capped with snow. Now they are a wasteland full of volcanic activity. Torch thanked me for that by razing what used to be a mountain range in the middle of Equestria, leaving only the mountain Celestia later built her castle upon. Honestly I think we both came away better for it, as ponies prefer plains to mountains, and dragons thrive in heat, but I’ve no wish to wake up again wondering why my horn is throbbing.”

Another silence followed, broken by Fleur’s hesitant laughter. “You jest with us, oui?”

Luna shook her head. “I do not.”

“And where was Celestia, in all of this?” Fancy asked.

“Making certain our paths of destruction did not cause the deaths of dragon or pony,” Luna said, allowing her remaining wine to swirl gently in her magic. “Have no fear, it takes much for me to reach that point. But that was the reason I was reluctant to imbibe when first we met. I had more or less sworn off spirits, and of course during my exile it wasn’t an option. I do not mind a little now and again, it’s quite nice.”

“Just the same, I think I’ll have them stick with wine in the future, and avoid stronger drink,” Fancy said. “For the safety of, well, everypony.”

Fleur nodded. “Besides, there are other ways to leave one feeling the same,” she shamelessly nuzzled under Luna’s chin, then said: “If you keep your promise to stay with us tonight, we shall see how many of them we have time for.”

Luna looked down into Fleur’s eyes, having to resist the urge to kiss her while they still had company. “I look forward to it.”
> Chapter 3: The Heart Wants
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The door to the library closed with finality, and Celestia looked around for either Twilight or Pinkie, setting down what purchases she had made and cursing herself for not having planned her time better.

Pinkie Pie bounced her way back out of the kitchen, smiling as she saw Celestia. “There you are! Thanks for coming here with us, I kinda forgot Twi-twi was left holding all the bags and I guess they got heavy for her floating like that.” Her smile quirked down just a little as something occurred to her. “Actually, I don’t know how heavy it is to lift something with your horn. I hope she didn’t strain herself!”

Celestia opened and closed her mouth in rapid succession, both having the answer Pinkie sought and in the next instant being certain she should not give one because she wasn’t supposed to be able to cast magic. “I... suspect she’s fine. I see unicorns carrying very heavy things all the time in Canterlot. It’s probably a different kind of strain.”

“Oooo!” Pinkie said, her eyes lighting up. “Is that where you came from? I was gonna ask that because you look new but I feel like I know you from somewhere and I’ve met a lot of ponies in Canterlot! I mean, not like here where I know almost everypony except for ponies who are only passing through on their way to other places but still like a lot of ponies.”

Okay, I’m still not sure how you’ve managed to not have either of them realize who you are, but here’s your opportunity to really test your ability to improvise, Celestia. Astra’s voice said, sounding amused. Let’s see how long you can keep it up before they notice.

“Well, I don’t think you and I have met before,” Celestia said. Meaning, of course, that Aurora hadn’t. “I work in the castle, so maybe you saw me there?”

Pinkie gave her a long, serious look, the near-omnipresent smile gone from her face as an intense look of concentration replaced it. After a nerve-wracking length of time she shook her head, looking frustrated. “I dunno! You look so familiar but I can’t say why! Maybe you have a sister in Canterlot and I met her?”

“A sister?” Celestia replied carefully.

Pinkie nodded rapidly. “ Uhuh!”

Does Aurora have family? Astra asked.

The question gave Celestia pause. “I’d... rather not talk about it,” she said after a long moment. As easy as it would have been to deny having a sister, it felt incredibly wrong to do so. And saying yes meant having to invent a sibling, which further complicated matters.

“Pinkie!” Twilight called from the stairwell leading to the basement and laboratory below the library. “Did your new friend catch up?”

“She’s right here!” Pinkie called back. “I’m still trying to figure out where I know her from!”

“Are you interrogating her in the doorway?”

Pinkie looked behind Celestia for a moment, then called back: “No, she’s inside, and the door’s closed.”

“Maybe you could invite her to sit down and have something to drink?”

Pinkie’s eyes widened, and she smacked a forehoof to her head. “That’s being a bad host, Pinkie Pie!” Her gaze flashed back to Celestia, and she asked: “Would you like to sit down and have something to drink?”

“That would be fine,” Celestia said.

“She says that’s fine!” Pinkie yelled in the direction of the stairs.

“Good! I’ll be right up.”

“She’ll be right up,” Pinkie said with an apparent lack of self-awareness. “Is tea okay? Twilight drinks a lot of tea.”

“Tea would be lovely, thank you.”

Pinkie nodded, ran off to the kitchen, and returned in no time with a tea set and a kettle ready to pour from. “I like mine with lots of sugar, how do you take yours?”

“I’ll take mine the same way,” Celestia said without missing a beat.

“So,” Pinkie said after she’d made them both a cup and had settled down opposite Celestia. “Where are you staying, how long will you be here, and when is your birthday? I hope it’s soon!”

Oh dear. There are the puppy dog eyes.

“I...”

“Oh good, you made tea!” Twilight said as she plopped down next to Pinkie. “Figured out her birthday yet?”

“Nopers! I just asked!” Pinkie replied with a smile.

“Right. Well, I’m kind of interested myself. If she actually tells you, you’d be the first to know it.”

Pinkie’s eyes somehow became wider and even more soulful. “I’d be the first pony to know what your birthday is?” she said in a voice choked with barely suppressed glee.

Well, Twilight seems to have seen past your disguise. No surprise there.

Celestia hesitated for a moment longer, then let out a long-held breath. “How long?” she asked Twilight instead of addressing Pinkie’s questions.

“The moment I saw your face.” Twilight answered over her tea.

“That long?” Celestia asked in surprise.

Twilight nodded. “Whatever you cast on your horn is very effective. Was it one of Wallflower’s?”

Celestia nodded. “‘Notice-me-not’, with a static repulsion to keep insects, birds, and low-flying Pegasi from impaling themselves. Not perfect, but enough. Nopony else even blinked more than twice.”

Twilight nodded again with a growing grin. “That was good thinking! But why didn’t you hide your wings instead?”

“Economy of resources,” Celestia answered promptly. “The variant I used was one Wallflower developed for hiding stationary objects in plain sight. My wings move just a little no matter what I am doing. My horn does not.”

“And ‘See-me-not”—”

“Requires constant output,” Celestia said by way of confirmation. “I was also banking a lot on my physical changes throwing ponies off.”

“Yeah!” Twilight said, looking Celestia up and down appraisingly, “The dress helped too. It looks really nice, by the way. Was that one of the ones Rarity brought back with her?”

Celestia nodded, touching it fondly with a hoof. “I used to love this one. But it stopped fitting a good two thousand years ago. That was why I left it behind. I’ve... slimmed down a bit, it seems.”

“Uh...” Pinkie said, trying to get a word in edgewise.

Celestia shook her head, flashing Pinkie an apologetic smile. She dismissed the glamour on her horn, saying: ”Pinkie, I’m very sorry.”

Pinkie blinked, then smiled an even bigger smile. “Hey! That is pretty good! I mean I’m little sad because I wanted to introduce you to Aurora and now I guess that’s not happening...”

“I didn’t honestly mean to trick you, Pinkie—”

“Nonono! That’s neat!” Pinkie said, the grin not budging an inch.

“Do you think so?” Celestia asked. “I mean, I wanted to be able to go out and not make the whole town worried about Princess Celestia being there, and it worked fairly well, all things considered.”

“Yeah! I mean, I would have gone with glasses to complete the look but yeah, I didn’t even know!”

I told you glasses would have been perfect! Astra grumbled in her mind.

“I mean, I kinda thought maybe I knew you but I couldn’t think of how and there’s just enough difference that I couldn’t be sure.” Pinkie concluded. “You did a super job!”

“I’m still sorry I tricked you, Pinkie.” Celestia said solemnly. “This,” she gestured at herself, “wasn’t for you and Twilight. I was supposed to be home before you two got back.”

“Were you still gonna show us?” Pinkie asked. “Because I like it! Like, we could maybe go outside together now! I could maybe show you how I bake at Sugarcube Corner or we could all take a walk through the woods together and nopony would be like ‘Oh my gosh the Princess is here, somepony get the banner!’’

“I... I honestly hadn’t thought that far ahead,” Celestia admitted. “I was just a little lonely and wanted to go out and see some ponies—” she stopped as she felt Pinkie’s strong hooves wrap around the base of her neck in a tight hug.

“I told you she might get lonely!” Pinkie said, flashing Twilight a little frown.

Twilight looked stricken for a long moment, her whole posturing visibly drooping. “I... I’m sorry, Princess—”

“Oh no!” Pinkie said, dropping down from Celestia’s neck so she could scramble to Twilight and envelop her in a hug. “I didn’t mean it, honest! It’s okay!”

Celestia was uncertain what to say for a moment, then said: “Twilight, I was fine, really. If anything, you three being gone drove me to seek out a means to go out and visit the town, for which I am grateful, because I enjoyed myself immensely.” She looked askance at the two of them, her eyes narrowing. “Where is Spike, incidentally?”

“He decided to stay and catch up with friends for a week.” Twilight said after composing herself.

“Moonie has a week off.” Pinkie said, as if that explained everything. She did not release Twilight for another few moments, and when she did, she pulled back slowly and reluctantly.

Celestia frowned, but said nothing. She had enjoyed having Spike, Twilight, and herself together for a time, it had felt almost as if Twilight had never left her side. And the addition of Pinkie, while spoiling the aforementioned illusion, had been more than welcome. They’d made an odd but lively little household together. But she could not fault Spike for wanting to spend a bit of time with other friends after having attended Rarity’s wedding. Friends that... didn’t remind him so much of Rarity.

While he had come to terms with his affections being unrequited remarkably well, it wasn’t the easiest thing to attend the wedding of somepony you truly loved, even after you let them go.

She’d attended more than a few, after doing the same. It had never gotten easier.

Are you being melancholy again? Astra demanded.

Celestia, in a quick little whisper to Astra, said: “No, I’m fine.” then followed to Twilight with: “Well, I’m glad he’s enjoying himself.”

“He is.” Twilight said. “He seemed pretty happy at the ceremony. If you can give me a bit to unpack I can show you what I saw later.”

“Of course! I actually wanted to make dinner for us, I was buying ingredients when you found me—”

“Ooo! I can help, pick me!” Pinkie said, excitedly waving her hoof in the air.

Celestia looked askance at Twilight, who nodded.

“You two have fun. Call me up when it’s ready.”

Pinkie and Celestia shared a smile only known to those lucky enough to have found a unexpectedly shared passion. Celestia could not help herself, cooking was fun. And here there was nopony around to scold her for trying to make things while she had a fully staffed kitchen composed of the finest cooks to be found from various cuisines. Anypony (or any other race) could be assured of finding the finest foods when dining in her castle.

Celestia, meanwhile, had been experiencing an unfulfilled want of something as simple as peanut butter sandwich for well over five hundred years. Had she not been running a kingdom singlehoofedly in Luna’s absence she might have resorted to breaking and entering just to make herself a snack now and again. Being here in Ponyville meant complete freedom of a kitchen again, and she loved it.

Pinkie Pie, while obviously not forbidden to cook, was simultaneously not a baking talent. She was an experimenter, and though occasionally things went awry, she loved the process itself, and the resulting food was a distant second in her estimation. She could cook by a cookbook, but she much preferred to mix tastes that went well together, just to see what happened.

Celestia already had a list of a few favorites she’d experienced that she intended to give to her cooks. She expected some very strange looks followed by uncomfortable grudging acceptance. She also had a list she was debating giving to her weapons research department, assuming she didn’t have them put away in the Forbidden Knowledge section of her library.

There were some things that were too horrible to contemplate, even to use on one’s worst enemies.

“So... what did you want to make tonight?” Pinkie asked with barely suppressed glee.

“I was thinking I might try my hoof at a nice souffle,” Celestia replied. “And some of that crusty bread you made the other night, and maybe a chocolate mousse for dessert.”

Pinkie helped gather up the bags Celestia had laid down earlier, rooting around inside for a moment before pulling her head back out with a disappointed look. “I don’t see any moose!”

What followed was a very silly back and forth banter that Celestia had grown accustomed to in the weeks she’d been staying with Twilight. It largely consisted of whether mooses were in some way associated with mice and why one would want to use either in the making of a dessert.

Celestia was quite accustomed to nonsense, having led a nation in which generations of nobles came to her with their petty squabbles, each thinking their situation was somehow unique despite the fact that many of those conflicts were very nearly genetic. They would sometimes be  forgotten for a generation only to reignite in a sudden blaze that she could very nearly be able to predict to within a decade.

Pinkie Pie was nonsensical, but in a way that actually made Celestia smile.

“Soooo...” Pinkie singsonged as she chopped up a pile of spinach. “When is your birthday?”

Celestia winced just a little, having very nearly forgotten the question from earlier. “Well... that’s a bit difficult,” she admitted after a long moment. “I don’t actually know.”

The chopping sound stopped mid-chop, and Celestia could feel the shocked stare Pinkie had leveled on her.

“I... I wasn’t so much born into this world as I was sent here, along with my sister. In the land we came from... time has no meaning. I know we were young, for our kind, and I have no real memories from then...” When it became apparent her explanation was falling on deaf ears, Celestia stopped whipping the butter and eggs, setting the beater aside. “I could tell you with some approximation how long ago I first arrived?”

“You don’t have a birthday?” Pinkie asked in a very small voice.

“Not... as such, no,” Celestia said, more and more uncertain of what she could or should say in this situation but trying to satisfy Pinkie in some way. “But I do have several holidays in which ponies celebrate—”

“When do you eat birthday cake?” Pinkie demanded.

“Well... I have cake whenever I want, Pinkie.” Celestia replied, taken aback.

“Nonono! Those are just cakes! Birthday cake is special!” Pinkie said, throwing her hooves up in exasperation. “You’d know that if you’d ever had one!”

“I’ve had birthday cake aplenty over the years, Pinkie. I’ve helped celebrate hundreds of thousands of birthdays.”

“That’s another pony’s cake!” Pinkie replied with a vehement shake of her head. “It’s different when you’re eating a cake made just for you by ponies who are happy you got to be with them for another year and want to wish you even more years!” she began pacing back and forth in growing agitation. “You can’t just not have a birthday! It’s a really, really important day!”

Celestia’s ears wilted back in the face of Pinkie’s fierce declaration. She’d never even considered how very important such a thing was, not just to a pony, but to the ponies who loved them.

And the worst of it was, she had no solution. Offering to determine what day in particular she’d crossed the veil was not the same as a birthday. And while she had been ‘born’, there was no record of which particular moment of timelessness it had occurred. She knew only that she was older than her sister, and that she and Luna collectively could remember only the vaguest impressions of what life had been like before they had been sent to this land. “I’m... sorry, Pinkie.”

“It’s not your fault,” Pinkie said with a little sniffle. “It’s just a little sad, you know? I figured I’d find out your birthday finally because you’d be visiting Twilight for snuggles and then I could maybe have a giant cake with all the candles—”

“Oh... at a rough estimate I wouldn’t try that, Pinkie,” Celestia said, sounding more than a little alarmed. “The surface area would be prohibitive and assuming I could blow it out at all you’d have a cake covered in wax just in the time it would take to light the thing.”

Pinkie reached deep into her mane and pulled out a diagram that not only listed a surprisingly accurate estimation of the candles required but also a plan for a corkscrew maneuver that could be performed by one of the Wonderbolts (or Rainbow Dash) to light each candle within a span of three point two-nine-seven seconds. It further listed the dimensions of the cake, and a recipe with the precise measurements of each ingredient, many of which were in Equish Tonnes. “I know my birthday cakes,” she said in a sad little voice.

Celestia’s eyes grew wider as she realized that the recipe itself was one used by her personal pâtissière Giselda, and further that it was the one that Celestia had classified as a state secret.

Since the recipe in question wasn’t in any cookbook, the fact that Pinkie had it meant she’d gotten it directly from one of the two beings in the world who knew it. Somegriffon had some explaining to do.

She’s put a lot of thought and planning into this, hasn’t she? 

“She has,” Celestia replied in a whisper.

Shame we don’t know of anypony who say... just came into existence recently. Somepony who could be said to have been ‘born’ today, if only from the imagination of a mare wanting to go from a walk. And if it’s not exactly the same as a birthday... well, who’s to know? 

Celestia’s eyes widened, and a slow smile grew on her face. “Pinkie... I think I have an idea.”

Pinkie looked up from the spinach leaves on the chopping block. “You do?

“I do. Do you remember Aurora?”

Pinkie looked confused for a moment. “Uh... yeah? We met like, less than an hour ago. And then I found out she was you, and I was sad because I wanted her to meet you. And then we started making dinner—”

“Yes, exactly,” Celestia said quickly before Pinkie narrated up to the present moment, which she would do if not stopped. “And do you remember how you asked her when her birthday was?”

“Yeah?” Pinkie replied, looking even more befuddled. “But I thought you said you don’t know when it is?”

“That’s... not entirely true. You see, Aurora’s birthday was today.”

There was a long, stunned silence, followed by a high pitched scream that was nearly as much joy as panic and a pink blur that resolved itself into the pony hugging Celestia so hard around the neck she could barely get a breath of air in. This went on nearly long enough for Celestia’s white coat to turn blue, and she thanked all that was good that her physiology allowed her to survive things that would kill most ponies.

“I have to throw you a birthday party right away!” Pinkie said as she finally let go of her deathgrip. “And a welcome to Ponyville party too! Or, well, for Aurora, but that’s you... I think?” Pinkie reached up and clamped both of her hooves on Celestia’s face, all but screaming: “What kind of cake does Aurora like?!”

“Pinkie, I didn’t mean for the celebration to be today—”

“But today is her birthday and it’s already night time!” Pinkie said insistently. “Do you know how many favors I’ll need to call in to get everypony in Ponyville here in the middle of the night? It’s quite a few!”

“Pinkie, please calm down—”

“I don’t need calm! I need balloons and streamers and icing and party hats—”

Celestia, against her better judgement, took that moment to put Pinkie into a stasis field. Movement of the jaw was impossible, leaving Pinkie with no other option than to hyperventilate to express her extreme panic.

A large bead of sweat dripped from the end of Celestia’s nose as she held the shield. She was using the smallest amount of magic possible to maintain the spell, but Pinkie was a hyperkinetic ball of pure energy. Trying to keep her still was difficult at the best of times. “P-Pinkie. It’s okay, really. The party can be a day or two late. It’s fine.”

Having said that, she set Pinkie down, releasing her stasis on Pinkie and needing to sit down for a moment afterwards. That single spell had represented the largest expenditure of magic she’d used in several weeks, and she silently congratulated herself while simultaneously cursing herself for an idiot.

Pinkie sat down beside her, uncharacteristically quiet. “Are you sure it’s okay?” she asked as she looked up.

“It’s fine, Pinkie. I’ve never had a birthday party before, and neither has Aurora. We should take our time and do it right.”

Pinkie was quiet for a moment more, then nodded. “It’ll be so special!” she said as she stretched upwards to wrap her hooves around Celestia’s neck (thankfully not squeezing) and whispering: “I can’t believe I get to be your first!”

Celestia blushed furiously, simultaneously affected by the double entendre and convinced that Pinkie Pie was unaware she’d even made one.

When Pinkie had calmed down a little, they began to combine the ingredients of the souffle together, then started on the bread dough. All the while Pinkie talked excitedly about preparations she would need to make.

Celestia just listened for a time, feeling pleased with herself. “Yes, Pinkie, that sounds wonderful. And I was thinking, later on, we could maybe do something about a party for me, without needing to be in disguise.”

Pinkie stopped dead in the middle of kneading the bread, looking at her like a dog that just caught a whiff of rabbit. “Did you remember when your birthday was?”

Celestia’s smile faltered just a little before she shored it back up. “Well, no. And I’m afraid Luna would say the same. I’m not even sure if they know what a ‘day’ is, where we came from. But we could certainly find something to celebrate for me, if you wish. Just because I don’t know my own birthday doesn’t mean we can’t try to track down what day Luna and I first came to Equestria. You could even throw a party for both of us, since it happened on the same day.”

Celestia had never before seen a pony gasp quite so much as she did watching Pinkie Pie after hearing that piece of information. What followed could only be described as ‘exuberance’, and Celestia spent several minutes afterwards patiently trying to get a few words of warning in between bounces and bursts of confetti to convey that this particular party would be a more long term plan for after she’d recovered and gone back to Canterlot.

“It’s for Luna too, after all, so we’d need to have her there.”

“Right! Right right right!” Pinkie said, sporting a smile that beamed so brightly Celestia almost suspected magic. “Sorry, it’s just this is really, really exciting! It’s like party overload in my brain right now!”

“I understand,” Celestia replied. “Let’s get dinner into the oven and then we can talk about what type of cake Aurora might like.”





When the last of the guests had finally gone, Luna visibly relaxed, slumping back into her chair.

Being a guest herself, she had no responsibilities for seeing everypony else off, but that didn’t mean it was fun for her to watch as Fancy and Fleur did the verbal equivalent of herding cats until the last one was bid good evening.

Perhaps it was a little fun. She’d been subjected to many of these same faces on a day to day basis (faces that had at first lit up upon seeing her, and come closer to attempt to engage her, before being intercepted by Fancy and occupied elsewhere for a time.) and seeing those faces go away was a special kind of joy for her.

Two faces did interest her, however, and while Fancy was in the middle of chatting with an investment banker (A rather bland fellow called Cart Blanch) she wandered over to Lord and Lady Worthingham, who were gathering their coats and making ready to go home themselves.

She stopped at a respectful distance from them, and quietly cleared her throat.

The reaction was immediate, but not the desired one. Instead of a simple greeting, she was met with looks of shock and fear. This confounded her, as she hadn’t made any threatening moves on either of them to her knowledge.

Oh, wait. I did mention hounding them with horrors. But that was weeks ago, surely—

“Please, Princess. I’m not certain how we earned your wrath, but if you must punish somepony, let it be me, leave my poor Knotty alone...” The Lady begged, bringing Luna back from her musings.

“No, not her!” The Lord said, standing up and physically blocking Luna’s sight before she could even respond to the first wrong thing in this conversation. “Let it be me, Princess!”

She simply stood speechless for a time, uncertain how to respond. When she did open her mouth, it was to ask in honest curiosity: “Have either of you done anything that you feel would draw my ire?”

What followed was both the Lord and Lady stridently trying to speak past one another, confessing every sin they could think of.

Luna patiently listened during it all, marveling that if she could bring about this sort of reaction from everypony she could cut court sessions down to one fourth their current length. In time she had the sense that they were grasping at straws, and held up a single hoof to silence them both.

“Most of the things you have mentioned are not crimes so much as wrongdoings against one another, for which only they can forgive you. However...” she pointed at the Lord, looking down her nose severely. “You, if you have spoke truly, are guilty of tax evasion, and should make an appointment with the tax assessor's office. Do so of your own volition, settle accounts accordingly, and I will consider the matter ended.”

He nodded, bowing deep and low to her. “I will, Princess. Did you require anything else from us?”

Luna frowned thoughtfully. She had intended a bit of quiet conversation, wanting to probe them for how their relationship fared. Yet in her approach she had prompted both to stand their ground for the other, laying their souls bare to her in hopes of sparing their spouse pain. She had hoped for signs of a love flourishing, but found instead two ponies who believed themselves threatened by her mere presence.

Perhaps I meddle in affairs not of my ken. I shall consult with Princess Cadence on the matter. At the very least she could approach them without provoking their fear.

“No, that shall be all, Lord. I bid you and the Lady a good evening, and shall trust you to take care of the tax matter at your leisure.”

She turned away, not waiting for a response, though a glance backwards gave her some measure of satisfaction as the Lady helped the Lord up and embraced him as if she’d just dragged him ashore near-drowned. She snorted quietly, half in frustration and half in acceptance. Having a common adversary drew ponies together, as ancient instincts ever prompted the herd to protect one another.

So be it.

She put them out of her mind for the moment, sitting down and taking another glass of wine in her magic. Fleur, seeing this, frowned, and whispered something to Fancy before trotting back to their little seating area and taking a place next to Luna.

“Princesse?” she asked, looking somewhat worried. “Is something wrong? Did the Worthinghams bother you?”

Luna shook her head. “No, Fleur. It seemed it was I who bothered them. Think no more of the matter. ‘Tis settled.”

“It doesn’t look settled in your mind, ma petite,” Fleur said, reaching up to brush a bit of Luna’s mane away from her face. “I can have Fancy put them on the ‘never again’ list if you wish.”

“Do not.” Luna said quickly. “Tis not their fault that I am as I am. I merely wished to see how they fared, perhaps be thanked a little for nudging them in the right direction...”

Fleur looked at her curiously, a small smile growing where the frown had been before. “Ah, you meddled, and wished to be rewarded for it?”

“Well, perhaps not rewarded...” Luna replied petulantly. “But certainly I did not expect to be considered a threat.”

Fleur clucked her tongue as she shook her head. “You can be just a little intimidating, ma petite.”

“I do not intend such here, though!” Luna protested. “I merely wanted to ask after the health of their relationship, whether they had come to a better understanding of one another. I’ve seen their dreams, Fleur. There is love there. It became tainted with hurt feelings, and the poor Lady seemed to be sleeping with the help specifically in hopes of being caught, just to elicit some reaction out of the Lord, but...”

“Is that all? I can tell you everything you might want to know, and several things you might not.” Fleur said, a little purr in her voice. “Shall I whisper their secrets to you?”

On the other side of the room, Fancy was in the process of bidding the Worthinghams goodbye. Luna only glanced for a moment, but even in that moment she saw the Lady giving her a wary eye. She sighed heavily, reasoning that if she could not speak with the couple, secondhoof information would at least satisfy her curiosity. “Tell me,” she said, adding: “Please,” after a mere moments consideration.

“Well,” Fleur said, visibly perking up in both posture and mood. “You caused a bit of a stir between them after you interceded. Lord Worthingham looked positively haunted for some time afterwards. Not only did he not seek out new partners, he turned down anypony when approached.”

Luna frowned. “I never meant for him to forbear taking up with other partners entirely. Just that he should be honest with the Lady, as you and Fancy are.”

“Some ponies cannot do such things, Princesse,” Fleur replied. “The heart wants what it wants, and cannot bear what it cannot bear. The Lady bore a deep hurt for his callousness, and could not even forgive him at first, though watching him try to earn her love back was quite moving. It took her weeks to even allow him back in their home.”

“They’ve made much progress, then,” Luna said, feeling a thrill of gratification.

“They have, though it was not without troubles even still. The butler caused quite a scene some weeks ago when he had the gall to challenge the Lord for the Lady’s honour.”

Luna gasped in combined outrage and excitement. “What transpired?”

“They fought with rapiers at dawn, and the fight was terrible and cruel. Their resolve was identical, for each fought for the same lady’s affection. They were both injured sorely, bleeding from several wounds, when the Lady bade them stop... and went to the Lord first to tend his injuries. The butler was heartbroken, but took his leave with dignity. I am told he was swept up by a minor home who nurses him back to health even now.”

Luna was dumbstruck, feeling horribly conflicted. On the one hoof, she was glad for the Lady and her Lord, whose affection had been sorely tested by each other to emerge stronger for it, but she had not thought for the poor underling who had sought to provide the Lady comfort as her Lord left her forlorn. She hoped he found his own solace in turn, given time.

Fleur burrowed under one of Luna’s wings, growing increasingly brazen as the last of their guests were bid farewell. “Do not fret, mapetite. Tis a risk one takes when they involve themselves with such as the Worthinghams. He presumed he had some claim on the Lady’s heart just because she asked him to share her bed.”

She nodded, but inwardly Luna cringed at the words. Was she presuming too much? Was it her right to even ask if these two would be her consorts? She was a princess, she had the power, the influence, but had she the right, save that for being what she was very little could be barred to her?

She cared deeply for Fleur. There was a fiery and sometimes dangerous attraction between the two of them. Was that enough to call love? Was it right to ask so much if it was not?

And then there was Fancy. She respected him, she valued his council, but her feelings on him were nebulous. They were tinged with shades of gratitude and guilt for his willingness to allow the closeness that existed between Luna and his spouse. Something more was developing between Luna and Fancy, more than friendship but less than love, but Fancy was hesitant, as was Luna. She still, in her heart of hearts, feared spoiling their love for one another, even while seeking it from them in her selfishness.

She was attracted to him, but not in the fiery way she was to Fleur. Fancy was an amazingly skilled lover, though admittedly she had no other stallion to compare him to, since she’d never lain with one prior to being in his strong and sure hooves. Their lovemaking had been passionate, but when they were together it was as if he made love to Fleur by way of Luna. She wondered what it might be like to be the true object of his affection, even for a brief moment.

He left her very conflicted. Even if she did care for him, was there any way in which he would truly care for Luna herself? Was that important in a consort? Could she accept devotion from one and mere acceptance from the other? Was that fair to him?

“You are fretting,” Fleur accused, squirming around to look deep into Luna’s eyes with a pout. “Stop.”

Luna blinked, blushing in the face of the accusation. “I am... sorry, Fleur.”

Fleur shook her head, allowing the pout to turn into a slow smile. “Do not be sorry, be here, with me. You have worries, tell me what they are.”

Luna had faced many a foe, staring down dragons, griffon flights, and wild beasts. But that smile made her feel weak as a newborn kitten. “I... fear you cannot aid in these worries, Fleur.”

Fleur looked at her quizzically, the smile remaining. It was not dissimilar to ones Luna had seen on the faces of nobles making outlandish requests in her court. It said ‘I have you now’. Their expressions quickly changed as she denied them, for their words held no sway on her. But such was not true of Fleur, as Luna could not look away from that self-satisfied gaze. “Very well, ma petite. You say I cannot help, perhaps I cannot. Shall I help you take your mind off your worries instead?”

Luna felt her heart skip a beat, then two. Whatever Fleur had in mind would surely not help in any way. It would almost certainly send her feelings aswirl even more. Yet... that was why she was here, after all. The more she felt this affection, this warmth and giddiness, the less uncertain she was of whether what she felt was love.

Night Blossom would have laughed at her, then kissed her nose, all the while smiling the same smile Fleur gave her. She would have surely been amused by the idea that her Princess hesitated in any way to take Fleur in her embrace and let all worries settle themselves.

She did her best to put the matter of consorts out of her mind, promising herself that she would think on it again in the morning. Tonight was for her friends, and for herself.

“Please,” Luna said, allowing a smile on her own face.





Luna did not dream, not in the sense that a normal pony did. While raising the moon had been the first signs of her talent, she’d quickly learned it was far from the extent of it. From the moment she’d first taken conscious step into the dreamscape, she’d never again ‘fallen’ into a dream. She could fashion a dream for herself, and often did, but by and large she preferred to spend even her time of rest visiting those restless souls who, because of occupations or inclination, continued to sleep well past when the sun rose.

She thus found it fascinating to find herself in one after so long. Whatever was unfolding around her was a True Dream, a wish of her heart, so to speak. It was vivid, and pure, much like the dream of a child. And with the wonder of a child she followed in its wake rather than fight it, curious about where it would go.

Luna walked amongst the flowers of her youth.

This was not a metaphor, in her case. The garden surrounding her was one she had worked on since time immemorial. She could still remember, of course, but the ponies who had built the surrounding walls were long since dead, even their bones having turned to dust. The flowers were naturally only memories of memories of the original bulbs and seeds planted here as well.

They were lovely, for being colorful ephemeral dust. The same could be said for ponies and flowers alike. Flowers, however, could be gathered from amongst particular variants that did best in darkness. Ponies tended to frown on doing the same to them.

They could be hired, however.

Ponies were not nocturnal by nature, but could be persuaded to be so. Coin, room, and board was a perfectly acceptable reason to purchase the short life of a pony, one month at a time. It was the reason for the small contingent of Night Guards that stood a lonely vigil outside the gates, ever searching the forest for signs of unwanted intrusion. It was also the reason Luna had anypony to tend to her during her own lonely nights.

Luna had few servants. In fact, she would say that she had only one, for the castle staff answered to her sister, and only served Luna as Celestia ordered, staying late to ensure cleaning was finished and dinner (or breakfast, in Luna’s case) was laid out. She took no umbrage at this, as it had always been thus. Her sister was the warmth and light of the realm, while Luna was the healing, restorative rest. Everypony loved a sunny day, but nopony celebrated a good night’s rest, and only noticed the lack thereof. Luna herself had not missed the adoration of the populace, for she had all she needed with one.

Luna turned a corner, and saw her garden’s caretaker in the distance. Night Blossom was not a pony who would stand out in a crowd, with her coat the color of freshly tilled earth and mane black as a night without a moonrise. Her face was fair, her frame sturdy, she was not unattractive by any means, but she was hardly a pony that would inspire bards to song.

Luna had been utterly smitten with her.

She had been born to the world as Sunflower, an odd name for one with such dark features, but perhaps her parents had hoped the name would prove prophetic. She had dubbed herself Night Blossom in honor of her new mistress, which Luna had found oddly touching. She knew from experience that ponies placed in her employ found it difficult to socialize with ponies of the day. Fighting the diurnal cycle was not easy on the equine form, and left one with a vague sense of fatigue no matter if they’d slept well or not. For this mare to dedicate her life, and even her name was... gratifying, in a way Luna had never previously experienced.

Blossom turned as Luna approached, a warm smile upon her face. “Princess! You’ve returned!”

Luna was not a pony who smiled, as a rule. It was less about being her being unhappy and more about projecting an aura of calm and just a little menace to the populace. But she could not help but answer that smile with one of her own, no matter how her face ached from it later.

“Aye, ‘tis good to be back.” Luna said, and after only a moment’s hesitation indulged in a mutual nuzzle with Blossom, even kissing the side of her neck as they parted. It was so nostalgic to see her again, even here. She breathed deep in Blossom’s mane, smelling the earthiness that clung therein even despite how fastidious she was with herself.

“Princess... not here.” Blossom said demurely. “Prying eyes—”

“If anypony dares spy upon us in Mine own garden they will find out very quickly why ‘tis a bad idea.” Luna said, her eyes flashing in the moonlight.

Blossom smiled anew, blushing hotly in the face of her Princess’s protectiveness. “Of course, Princess. Do as you will.”

“Aye, there is naught to fear in the dark, save me,” Luna said, her smile taking on a wicked, predatory look.

She claimed Blossom’s lips with her own, cupping just under Blossom’s chin with one of her ebon-clad forehooves. Her eyes opened in surprise at how passionately her kiss was returned.

When the two broke apart, both gasping for air, Blossom stammered out: “Forgive me, my Princess. I have missed you so much...”

Luna looked at Blossom quizzically, unsure what exactly bothered her about Blossom’s words, but struck with a surety that something was wrong. She had taken this all for a mere memory of times long past, a gift for her troubled heart, but things were going distinctly different from any such memory.

“Surely I have not been gone so long as that?” Luna asked with a single raised eyebrow.

“Never gone, but never here,” Blossom answered, tears in her eyes. “You’ve not wished to come, until now.”
> Chapter 4: Of Pinks and Purples
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Luna backed out of Night Blossom’s grasp, a coldness settling over her. “Name thyself, entity. I would know what I face.”

“I am what I appear to be,” Blossom replied, her expression hurt, but carrying no apparent surprise. She sat in the same position that she had been in when Luna embraced her, making no effort to do more than return Luna’s gaze.

“No!” Luna said vehemently. “You are not her. I saw her off on her journey, aged but still beautiful.” Luna willed an image of Night Blossom on her deathbed into view, and it shimmered in the air between them, manifested by Luna’s magic. 

“I know, I was there. I so feared for you, my princess.”

“So, some specter of her? Did I so wrong her in life that she lingers to torment me?” Luna demanded, a single eyebrow cocked, her eyes cold and hard. “I refuse to believe that. Try again.”

“No, it is as you say. She... I passed, easily and thankful for your presence. And though she feared what might become of you without her, I was content to wait for all eternity for your own passing.” Blossom replied.

Before them both, an image appeared of a wizened mare, smiling up at her princess while bedded in warm covers. A slightly younger-looking Luna stood over her, grief-stricken tears streaming down her face.

“I can make you young again. There are powerful spells that heal even the ravages of time—” the other Luna said, stopping as Blossom laid an unsteady hoof over one of Luna’s own forelegs.

“You cannot.” The older Blossom replied gently. “Not without great risk to yourself. I have already outlived everypony else I have ever known, Princess. I will not outlive you as well.”

“But... I...”

“I know,” Blossom said, reaching up and touching Luna’s cheek. “You’d take the risk, even knowing what it might mean. But you mustn’t.”

The pair vanished, leaving only the younger version of Night Blossom and the older Luna regarding one another warily.

“You whispered to her that you’d never love again as she passed, and a spark passed between you. Do you remember?” Blossom asked.

Luna’s eyes opened wide in surprise. “I... do... I thought it was some form of magic she released as she passed on. I... I had never seen a pony die, before. Not up close, at least. I did not know what to expect. But... you can’t mean—”

Blossom nodded. “Your own magic; returned to you after she had no further need of it. Magic that you used to save her, once, and that helped her to live long past a normal pony’s lifespan.”

No sound escaped Luna.

Gesturing to herself, Blossom continued. “Magic that resonated with a lifetime of memories of love for you, that carried an imprint of the mare herself. An imprint you locked away, here, in your Heart of Hearts, and threw away the key.”

“My... Heart of Hearts?” Luna asked, her voice sounding small even to herself. She shook herself. The entity before her could yet be a threat, and complacency was not to be desired. “Is that where we are supposed to be?”

Blossom nodded. “The place in which all that you love is kept close. I tend it, as I always have.”

Luna took a long moment to look around at her surroundings. In the darkness her various flowers bloomed, opening by starlight and moonlight and letting out sweet fragrances. Allowing herself to listen intently, she heard the small sounds of predator and prey in an eternal dance for survival. Indeed, much that she loved was here. 

But not everything.

“If what you say is true, then where is my sister?” Luna asked with a wry grin. “Was there no room for her here?”

Blossom winced, and seemed hesitant to answer. “My princess... here is where you keep all that you love... But your feelings for your sister are... complicated.”

“Is she here or not?” Luna demanded. “For if she is not, I say you lie, and this is some trick meant to tempt me with falsehoods!”

Blossom trembled, and pointed in a direction with a shaky hoof. “She is not here as I am, for she yet lives. But there is something of her here. It is as you say, you do truly love her.”

Luna’s gaze followed the direction of Blossom’s hoof, and she saw a statue off in the distance. She walked towards it, and in due time found herself below a largish statue carved out of white marble. It was of Tia; looking very young, a cheeky grin on her face as she hugged an even younger Luna. It was intricately detailed and inlaid with color making the statue feel as though she were looking at a younger version of herself and her sister despite it still very much being a statue. The carved inscription read Best Sister and was inlaid with gold and outlined in silver.

“This was the time when you loved her with all of your heart.” Blossom said, quietly. “Before either of you encountered another soul. You love her still, even now after all you’ve gone through together, but this was when you loved her best. And this is how you see her when you feel the greatest affection for her.”

“Is... is that why you appear as you do?” Luna asked, almost not wanting an answer. “Because I loved you best when—”

“You loved Blossom best all of her life, Princess.” Blossom said, an odd tone of solemnity in her voice. “But in your Heart of Hearts, I was always young and beautiful to you, no matter how she aged.”

Luna sat, looking up at the statue, simply staring at it for what felt like an eternity.

“I am sorry if I sadden you, Princess.”

Luna shook her head, turning back to Blossom. “You say you have been here since she passed?”

“Aye.”

“Why then, have I not dreamed of this before now?”

Blossom smiled sadly. “As I said, you shut the gates, and discarded the key. But something has changed in you, I think. The doors buckle from without, and the lock is breaking. Somepony wants to come in very badly, I suspect. So much that you must answer, one way or another.”

Luna glanced back in the direction she had come from, seeing the large garden gates that had guarded her private garden in the old castle. They were well-constructed things, capable of withstanding a siege if needs be. Yet there were visible signs of damage, the ancient wood splitting in places. And even as she looked, a loud crash could be heard from the other side.

“What shall we do, Princess?” Blossom asked quietly. “Nopony has approached that gate since you secured it. Do you wish to defend yourself against this newcomer?”

Luna startled as another resounding crash shook the door. She turned back to Blossom in something of a panic. “I... I do not know!”

“Only you can open the gates, Princess.” Blossom said. “But if I may... there is yet room here. I’d welcome the company, if you’d but allow it.”

Luna looked back and forth between Blossom and the door, torn with indecision. She did not know what battered at the gate, and the unknown could frighten even the likes of her. “I...”

Blossom reached deep into her mane, pulling forth a shining key. She lifted one of Luna’s forehooves with her own, and placed the key in the frog thereof. “Go, Princess. I’ll make sure your guests are comfortable.” With that, she smiled, reared up, and kissed Luna gently on the cheek. “And perhaps you might return some night?”

Luna stared down at the key, glancing back at the door that creaked and protested. Resolutely, she stood, taking the key in her magic.

“I love you, my Princess.” Blossom called after her.

Luna turned the key, and the door burst inward.





She woke with a start, causing Fleur to protest sleepily and cling to her barrel all the more tightly in her unrest.

Luna blinked, allowing herself to adjust to reality slowly. She was in Fleur and Fancy’s bed, having stayed there with them after attending their party. 

The garden in which she’d just been walking was in reality sadly overgrown; the walls crumbling as the Everfree slowly reclaimed the castle for its own. She knew this because she had gone there herself to fetch seedlings to help start her new garden in Canterlot. She hadn’t remained long, almost fleeing in her haste to escape the memories therein.

“Je t'aime, ma princesse…” Fleur murmured sleepily, snuggling in as close as possible. Fleur settled down again once Luna reached upward with her free hoof and smoothed her lover's mane.

Luna did her best to calm her wildly beating heart. Waking from a dream not of her own devising was an experience she’d all but forgotten. It was interesting that even she could be surprised. She glanced backward, and confirmed the reason for the cold draft on her back: Fancy, who had been embracing her from behind, had gotten up at some point.

One of the many reasons Luna and Fancy had ‘hit it off’ right away was that he was a night pony. Not by habit, but by affliction; he was lucky to get three to four hours of sleep in a night. He was thus both a pony of the day and night, with the tired, ever-suffering smile that came with that. It was the sort of smile only a fellow pony of the night forced to be awake during daylight hours could truly appreciate.

Luna was especially careful with his dreams when she needed to interact with them, trying to maintain that delicate balance of restful but entertaining without being too stimulating. An insomniac’s dreams were especially fragile, and were all the more precious for it.

This evening, however, she’d understandably been distracted, and it seemed he had woken of his own accord and managed to wriggle out of bed without disturbing either Luna or Fleur.

She was simultaneously cross with him and feeling guilty for not patrolling that evening and making certain his sleep was a sound one.

Fleur’s grip remained unchanged, and a small smile adorned her lips, which made Luna wish to kiss them. Unfortunately, she also wished to get up and check on Fancy.

Unlike most ponies, however, she could be in two places at once, or a reasonable approximation thereof. She quietly shifted into her mist form, leaving behind a shell of force in her shape for Fleur to cling to. She then slipped a pillow inside of the shape, and allowed it too to dissipate, leaving her lover to clutch at the pillow.

Past experience told her that Fancy would be in his den, quietly reading while enjoying a pipe. She coalesced into her physical form, walking quietly down the hallway to seek him out.

She would need to speak to both of them at some later time, but at that moment Fancy’s opinion was needed more than Fleur’s, since Fleur’s was well known to both Luna and Fancy.

She found him in his reading chair as she had expected, smoking from his pipe and occasionally sipping at a tumbler of scotch, also as expected. His eyebrows rose as she emerged from the darkness, and he gestured with his pipe towards a chair opposite his own, lifting the bottle of scotch with a questioning look.

“No, thank you, Sir Pants,” she said as she took a seat. She poured herself a glass of water from his bar, taking a long sip before setting it down.

“I hope I didn’t wake you,” he said with a little grimace. “I was as quiet as I could be.”

“You did not. I... woke from a dream. It was somewhat disturbing.”

His posture changed, going from relaxed to one she’d come to associate with him being fully engaged in the petitioner. He’d have made a good lord in her day, when lordship meant more than inherited wealth and a shield to hang on the wall. As it was, he dominated his circle of friends (and everypony wished to be Fancy’s friend, even his business rivals) by his sheer presence. That same presence would have lead armies to glory, or death, depending on his wishes. 

It was that she’d first responded to upon meeting them both, for though Fleur was comely and witty, Fancy commanded respect in his own quiet yet oddly compelling way.

“Interesting,” he said, puffing on his pipe thoughtfully. “What does the Princess of Dreams consider disturbing?”

“Very little,” Luna said with a self-deprecating laugh. “But I speak of my own dreams, not those of the common pony.”

He nodded, tapping his ashes in the ashtray next to his glass. “That is what I mean as well. Considering what I hear my contemporaries expound about their dreams from time to time, I imagine yours must be fascinating.”

“Not so, normally,” Luna admitted. “In fact, you would probably consider them quite boring. I do not often craft myself a dream, instead allowing my mind to wander the Dream Realm as my body rests. This one was... not crafted, but sprung upon me, fully formed.”

He nodded, looking no more enlightened but nonetheless still interested. “I’m afraid I don’t understand, but you seem to imply that’s not normal for you.”

“‘Tis not, and that is what worries me,” Luna said with a frown. “Or... perhaps 'tis not worry... Concern? Befuddlement?” Her face screwed up in confusion. “There are many words that come close to the feeling, yet none do it justice. It vexes me.”

They were both silent for a time, before Fancy said: “Surely you of all ponies would know of a dream’s meaning.”

She shook her head ruefully. “I am less ruler and more... caretaker. I attempt to help ponies learn what their dreams wish to teach them. I shield them from their nightmares when necessary and appropriate, but there are times where they are a mystery even to the likes of myself.”

He nodded thoughtfully, taking another sip from his scotch. “Perhaps you’d like to share the contents of the dream?”

She didn’t answer right away, gathering her thoughts for a moment and deciding just what she wanted to share. 

In the end, she decided that if she wished to explore true intimacy once more, it could not be done by holding herself apart from either of them.

“Have you ever dreamed of a loved one long passed?” she asked.

“On occasion,” he replied, looking a little nonplussed but thankfully not offended by the question. “My mother, sometimes my father.”

Hearing that gave her pause, and she asked: “Truly? You’ve lost them both? You’re not very old...”

“Airship accident. Happened long ago, when I was barely old enough to begin taking the reins of our family’s affairs in my father’s place,” he replied succinctly. “It’s not exactly something one discusses over drinks.” 

Luna frowned, feeling conflicted. Her attempt to relate had gone awry and she wished to comfort him for his loss. “I... am sorry, Fancy,” she said, feeling at a loss. She added: “I was too young to truly have memories of my own parents from before my sister and I were sent to Equestria. I... suppose it is somewhat like having lost them, but having never known them I do not know what was lost. I think I envy you in that you knew yours, even if you lost them too soon.”

He chuckled, waving a hoof. “Oh, no worries on that account. My parents lived exactly as they wished, and died doing what they loved. They might perhaps have wished for more time, but I doubt they had many regrets as to how their end came about. They’re well remembered, for far more than how they passed.”

Luna nodded. “More time is always wanted. But rare are those who make the most of the time they have and pass with no regrets. I am glad to hear it.”

“Yes, well... to loved ones who left us behind.” Fancy said, lifting his glass in a salute.

Luna imitated his gesture, feeling a little silly that she was doing so with a glass of water. She took a sip as he did, then set her drink down. “I... I dreamed of a pony very dear to me. I lost her many centuries ago. Dreaming of her was like having an old scar ripped open,” she admitted, trailing off quietly. 

He was silent for a while, puffing on his pipe thoughtfully. “I can see how that might be painful, but surely somewhat pleasant as well?”

“Yes.” Luna replied, looking up in surprise. “So much so that at first I mistook the dream for a memory of times long past. But... she spoke as one who had long awaited my return, who had watched and waited for me from afar. It was almost like seeing her again in the flesh. Pleasant, but... unsettling.”

“Would it be forward of me to assume your relationship was more than friendship?”

“Ever so much more,” Luna said with a laugh, as much at herself as in response to the question. “When I lost her... I thought I would never love another, certainly not in the way I did her.” Luna took a moment to steady herself, then looked Fancy in the eyes unflinchingly. “I believe... I was perhaps half right, Fancy. And I fear what that means greatly.” 

He held her gaze, seemingly unsure of what to say. Luna could understand, as she herself was uncertain of what more could be said. 

When he finally broke the silence between them, it was with a sudden and unexpected laugh. He smiled at her, looking pleased. “You should tell Fleur. She’ll be thrilled.”

A soft yawn preceded a very disheveled-looking Fleur as she entered the room, looked at both of them crossly, and said: “Tell me what, mes petits?”

“I—” Luna began before Fleur cut her off with a single hoof held up for silence, then pressed to her forehead.

“You are both terrible ponies and I despise you.”

This made Luna even more distressed, and she tried once more: “Fleur—”

“Fancy, give me water and some of those pills. My head is splitting.”

“Already on it, love.” Fancy said as he levitated a silver plate towards her with two pills and a glass of water on top of it.

“Thank you, mon coeur, je t'aime.” she said as she quickly took the pills. She then sat down heavily in a third chair set just to the side of Fancy’s. “I woke up kissing a pillow. I can still taste the cotton.”

“I am sorry to have fled from your grasp, Fleur—” Luna replied with a wince. “I was awoken suddenly and needed to clear my head.” 

Fleur looked up at her and grinned, then winced. “No need, ma petite. Fancy often needs to do so as well.”

“Do you require healing?” Luna asked anxiously. 

“I require sense,” Fleur said ruefully as she rubbed one of her temples with a hoof. “Wine is very nice when you drink it, not as nice when you awake after you’ve drunk too much. The pills help. More sleep helps too.”

“If you are sure...” Luna replied, an unhappy frown upon her face.

“The headaches help remind me to indulge less,” Fleur said firmly. “But I thank you for your kindness.”

“Fleur, the princess and I were just having the most interesting conversation—” Fancy began, then stopped abruptly as Luna frowned at him, shaking her head.

“A conversation best saved for morning, I think.” Luna said, casting a meaningful look in Fleur’s direction while still holding Fancy’s gaze. “Not something to consider when one’s head is splitting.”

Fleur yawned loudly, before getting up and stretching slowly. “Whatever it is will keep, I am certain. I am going back to bed.” She kissed Fancy on his cheek as she passed, then kissed Luna lightly on her lips. It was casually affectionate, speaking not of desire but simple and pure love.

Luna watched her go for a long while, finally releasing a breath she hadn’t been aware she’d been holding.

“Having second thoughts?” Fancy inquired as he tipped the ashes from his pipe.

Luna shook her head. “If anything, I grow only more certain. It just... worries me, Fancy.”

“Truly? You already know how she feels, Luna. How could you returning her affections be a problem?”

“It would not be, were it not for—” Luna cut herself off before she misspoke. “What I mean is... for her to have affection for me is... simple. We speak of it not in public, there is no scandal. But for me to love her, while she is—”

“While she is married to me,” Fancy finished for her. “I see.”

“You do not!” Luna insisted. “Not truly! I would never, ever think to take her from you, yet... I do not wish to hide what I would share with her...” she trailed off, muttering: “Not again. I refuse.”

“What are your intentions, then?” Fancy asked.

“I... I am uncertain. Royalty... generally does not marry, unless it’s to other royalty. Of course, my sister and I have outlived all other true royals, and there is little worry about succession when neither of us age appreciably on a pony scale.”

“Really? I had thought the Bluebloods—”

“The Bluebloods are a remnant of Princess Platinum, and no longer have any real relevance in governing, though they still hold lands and titles befitting their family.” Luna shook her head. “Even were your relative stations not an issue, I am uncertain how one would go about marrying a couple who is already married in any case. I... what I would have is... not a title, precisely. I ask not for a wife or husband. I... I would acknowledge you as... mine. Held dear to me. But... I know you hold your heart for her alone, and I... I enjoy your company, and your wit, yet I do not yet know if what I hold for you goes beyond respect...”

“You’re worried about how I feel?” Fancy asked, sounding surprised. “I... well I do admit it’s a bit awkward for a Princess to ask me whether I mind joining some sort of royal harem—”

“Not a harem.” Luna said firmly. “Harems are for those who care about little more than pleasures of the flesh. I ask that I be able to name you... my dearest companions. Those I treasure. I... I am not certain what one would call such. It was never spoken of in my day, at least not in public.”

“And what would that entail, exactly?” 

“Well, for one, it would mean an end to the subterfuge. You both would be welcome in the palace and have access to the amenities reserved for my sister and myself, normally. If I bear you a foal, it would be publically acknowledged as a Prince or Princess of the Realm, though the title itself would mean little, unless by some infinitesimal chance it was born a true alicorn. Perhaps a ceremony, a modest month-long celebration, feasting—”

“Why a month long, if I might ask?”

“It’s one full cycle of my moon.” Luna replied without missing a beat. “Of course, any foals Fleur would bear would be lavished with every advantage I could offer...” She tapped a hoof to her lip, thinking for a moment. “Ah! We haven’t had an Archduke since his line passed in the third century. I could very easily—”

“Luna, you have to know neither of us have ever expected favors just because we happen to share a bed with you.” Fancy replied, frowning.

“We are aware! Yet, We would do it because of who thou art, not merely because of who thou art to Us.” Luna said earnestly. “How Our sister has not already placed thee in the highest seat amongst thy peers is beyond Us.”

Fancy sighed, slowly removing his reading glasses from the bridge of his nose and cleaning them with a cloth. He looked back up at her, saying: “Do you honestly think she never tried?”





Pinkie Pie was experiencing a smile problem.

This was not to be confused with a smile emergency, which would have required; at minimum a party of ten ponies, a large cake, and the services of a rodeo clown. A problem was more manageable, usually requiring only hugs and encouragement, and maybe a mural.

This assumed, of course, that she knew what was wrong. And that was the cause of the problem: Twilight wouldn’t tell her, and if pressed would only say that it wasn’t something Pinkie could help with.

She had some ideas of what it could be about, ranging from worries about Celly’s health, to worries about their friends, to more general worries about all the baddies that seemed to be coming around since Black Snooty had first showed up to wreck everypony’s day by making it night all the time.

Twilight was a pony who worried a lot.

Pinkie was generally not. At least, not where she really thought about it. There was a part of her that did worry quite a bit, but she tried to keep that part distracted with parties and songs as much as she could. When enough ponies were smiling around you it was easier to smile yourself. Enough laughter could drown out the fears. 

It was only when she found a problem she couldn’t solve with cupcakes that she could hear that voice. It was not a bad voice. It was just sad, and lonely. It liked bright colors and songs, and sugary treats. It did not like it when Pinkie herself worried.

“Pinkie?” Celly’s voice asked from a bazillion miles away. “Could you check on the bread?”

Pinkie smiled, her attention redirected from the inward to the outward in a transition she made more times than she could count in a day. “Sure!” she answered in a cheery voice, as glad for the distraction as she was to be helping Celly.

The bread was nice and crusty and smelled wonderful, but would quickly become burnt if not removed from the oven. She deftly scooped it out with an oven-mitt clad hoof, depositing it on the countertop with a flourish. “Bread’s done!”

Celestia nodded, having finished laying out the plates for the rest of the meal. “Now we can bake the quiche,” Celestia said, opening the oven, adjusting the temperature, and sliding the pan inside. She set a timer, then sat down on one of the chairs with a sigh of satisfaction.

Pinkie joined her, bounding her way over to the table and landing in the opposite chair with a plop. She had to wait for the timer, which was not her favorite time. When she was working at Sugarcube Corner she tended to have all sorts of things baking at once so that every time she had to wait it wasn’t long before a buzzer went off telling her it was time to take something out, or apply frosting, or take a quick break. Baking with Celly was fun, but because she tended to make one thing at a time it left lots of times in between buzzers and Pinkie didn’t always know what to say or do.

Fortunately, Celly did usually have something. 

“Pinkie, what’s been bothering you?” Celestia asked quietly.

Unfortunately, the something wasn’t a thing Pinkie was ready to talk about.

“What? No! Everything is fine!” Pinkie yanked a white-starched shirt from her mane, wriggled it on, and pulled at the collar uncomfortably. “Situation normal! Yeppers! All baked skies and clear pies! How’re you?”

Celly just looked at her as Pinkie tried to keep up her smile under the strain.

Just before her smile cracked and fell off, Pinkie lowered her head to the table. “I can’t! Not where she might hear!”

Pinkie felt her chin being lifted gently by Celestia’s hoof. All around her, shimmering golden magic shone, and for just a moment, Pinkie was captivated by just how pretty Celly was.

“It seems Cup was right,” Celly said, a little frown on her face. “I’ve put us inside of a soundproofed bubble. Twilight is still downstairs, so she won’t be able to hear us. Can you tell me what’s wrong, now?”

Pinkie looked into Celly’s eyes for a long while. “Are you sure she can’t hear us?” she asked in a whisper.

“I’m certain.” Celly said in a normal tone of voice. “You could set off an explosion inside of this bubble and not be heard.”

Pinkie considered that before she opened her mouth while simultaneously digging in her mane for her emergency pyrotechnic supply, only to have her mouth covered by Celly’s hoof.

“I wasn’t suggesting we actually set off any explosions.”

Pinkie frowned, but nodded after a moment, tucking the ‘boom box’ back inside. “Okie dokie.” She took a deep breath, and started unloading everything she’d been worried about for the last two days. “So, everything was going really really well. During Rares’ and Flutters’ wedding, Twi-twi was all dreamy because pretty much everything went exactly like she wanted except Luna kinda flubbed her notes and then burned them but that was still fine and Twi only had a tiny freakout over it.”

There was no response from Celestia, followed by a slow smile. “I really need to ask Twilight to show me the highlights as soon as possible.”

Pinkie nodded, smiling herself. “It was nice. Luna did this loud-voice flowy-hair kinda-scary-thing and all the lights went out. Then she started talking in an even deeper voice about the sun and the moon and things not being broken.” 

“She used the old ritual?” Celly asked, looking surprised. 

Pinkie shrugged. “I dunno. But it was loud.”

“Yes...” Celestia said, a little breathlessly. “‘Tis also quite surprising. Many was the time We wouldst cause the matriarch to faint, and once We lost an elderly father as his heart failed him. T’was a sad honeymoon for the newlyweds....” Celestia shook herself. “Sometimes the old ways are best forgotten.”

Pinkie giggled faintly. “You sound just like her! That’s neat!”

Celly blinked in surprise. “Forgive Us— That is... forgive me, Pinkie. When I hearken back it becomes easy to slip into old habits, much like an old dress.”

“Yeah! Like your old dress!” Pinkie said, her head nodding rapidly. “So, everything was pretty much okay until after we sent Rarity and Shy off to their honeymoon. Then the crinkles started.”





Celestia did not ask what the ‘crinkles’ were. It was one of many odd phrases she’d come to accept as she’d gotten to know Pinkie better. 

Twilight described them as ‘Pinkieisms’, and seemed to find them as endearing as she did confounding.

This particular one referred to tiny wrinkles that appeared at the edges of Twilight’s eyes when she was particularly worried or stressed about something.

As familiar with Twilight as Celestia was, even she had not picked up on Twilight’s facial mannerisms. This wasn’t to say she hadn’t looked for them, more that Twilight had learned at an early age to craft a mask much as her mentor had done.

Celestia had strong suspicions of when Twilight had felt it necessary to pick up that habit, but thinking about it too much made her feel miserable. She was a mare that could not afford to dwell overlong on her own mistakes. She’d had a very long life and thus had many more opportunities to make errors in judgement.

It was far easier to simply treat every situation as a chance to atone than to waste time lamenting about all she needed to atone for. Perhaps it had earned her a reputation of being especially soft, even weak-willed at times (allowing some petitioners to get away with far more than she probably should), but it was better than being thought to be some sort of tyrant.

This wasn’t to say she extended that leniency to everypony. There were some families that she could be said to have developed a pattern of abuse towards, which she thought of as ‘punishing the stupid’. She was waiting for just one pony amongst their lines to show signs of change so that she might assuage her conscience by being especially nice to them for their lifetime. Unfortunately, that had yet to come to pass. 

If things continued for another generation, she thought she might impose by introducing a wild card into their collective gene pools in the way of a newly created noble line of particularly sensible ponies. She had been observing the Apples for that very purpose for a few centuries.

The day that particular horseshoe dropped would be an interesting one, as the Apples and their extended relations represented a fair portion of the population (nearly eighteen percent, as of the last census) and included many nouveau riche branches such as the Oranges in Manehatten. They were already very influential in financial matters, if she in turn declared the family line as nobility it might be just the sort of political upset her country needed.

It helped to know that Fancy Pants - one of her staunchest supporters, found Applejack charming, as he was one of the few members of the existing aristocracy she counted on to set an example for the rest, and seeing he favored Applejack might help them get the idea that integrity was currently en vogue.

That or it would lead to a rash of affected countryisms, an increased interest in fruit, and many many wrangler hats, which would at least prove amusing.

While Celestia inwardly plotted the diabolical betterment of her nobility, outwardly, she was listening with great attentiveness while Pinkie Pie described every moment of their flight home. Though much of it was amusing more than it was helpful in making Celestia understand what was wrong with Twilight, it helped foster an ever clearer sense of Pinkie’s growing distress.

“And then she said there is no such thing as pink!” Pinkie cried out, wincing while she tapped her hooves together as if just saying the words would make her disappear in a puff of logic. “And I was all ‘are you loco in the cocoa or what?’ but she was serious! Like pink is just some purple only lighter—”

She probably should have remained silent, but the teacher in Celestia made her point out: “While that’s technically true, pink is definitely recognized as its own hue.”

“Whomses!” Pinkie said with sudden vehemence.

Celestia blinked, but when Pinkie only smiled back at her rather than make any attempt to clarify what her outburst was about, she continued. “Well... pink is a ... type of purple as well, spectrum being full of subtle differences, but then my own coat color falls on the extreme end of that scale, being a barely noticeable fuchsia, which is amongst the purples and pinks, though closer to pink because it contains more red.”

Pinkie simply stared at her, her eyes wider than Celestia could ever recall having seen them open. “Your coat is pink?”

“A very, very, very pale shade—”

Celestia’s further attempts to explain color theory and palettes were interrupted by a crushing set of forelegs wrapped around her throat.

“I knew I liked you the moment I saw you!” Pinkie spouted out with barely contained glee. “Pink mane under all those colors, and a pink coat too! We could be twinsies!” 

“P-pinkie—”

“And when your mane is all magicky it has all the colors! Just like a Rainboom!” Pinkie giggled happily as she let Celestia go. “You’re like all my favorite things at once.”

Celestia said nothing for a while as she simply caught her breath.

“You know, Twilight has these nice streaks in her hair,” Pinkie continued as if she hadn’t just squeezed the life out of one of the two princesses of the realm. “One’s just a little less purpley, but there’s these other streaks... It’s almost pink. I really like those, too,” she paused, adding in a whisper: “But I don’t tell her because I don’t want her to feel bad.”

Celestia’s eyebrows rose in surprise, but she made a quick zipping motion with her hooves, a wry grin spreading across in the wake of her hoof. A sudden thought occurred to her, and while normally she might have dismissed it as silly, when related to these two it made a startling amount of sense.

“You know, Pinkie... that might be why Twilight was trying to explain color theory to you. Just like you like that she’s got some almost-pink, she might like that pink is a pale purple of sorts.”

Celestia had occasion to thank the kind soul of whoever had designed the sound barrier spell she was casting that they’d had the foresight to not make it airtight as well, as Pinkie was doing her level best to make their little dome into a vacuum.

“Twilight likes that I’m kinda purpley?!” Pinkie said, squishing her  face in her excitement. “That’s soooo cute!”

“We often see traits we admire in ponies we find attractive,” Celestia said judiciously, though she shared in Pinkie’s bright smile.

My, what an interesting observation.

Celestia’s smile quirked a little at the edges in sudden confusion. “What?” she said, very quietly.

Oh, don’t let me bother you. I was just going through some of your recent memories. You and Pinkie flying off to Twilight’s rescue after the poor dear worked herself into a state. Well, you flying, her diving off you in midair. 

“Did you have a point?” Celestia whispered back.

Just that Pinkie tends to jump in headfirst when she’s worried about Twilight. Wouldn’t have had to if you hadn’t hesisted to make the dive yourself, though. Maybe take the lead instead of following hers, since she seems a little lost.

“Unless I’m mistaken, I may have resolved Pinkie’s concern just now,” Celestia replied under her breath.

“Well, one of them,” Pinkie replied as if she were the other party in the conversation. “It’s nice to know Twi-twi still likes pink, but I don’t think that’s all that’s been bothering her.”

A lesser pony might have had trouble transitioning from an internal dialogue into an external dialogue, but Celestia was a long time practitioner, having spent most of her life musing to herself to pass the time during long-winded court petitions. “I see. Did she say anything else of note?”

“Well...” Pinkie thought, tapping a hoof to her chin. “She mentioned being worried about Dashie and Applejack, and Rarity and Fluttershy, and how it made her a little sad that she couldn’t go see them. But I think maybe she was trying not to say something else?”

This lead to a moment of deep contemplation for both of them, Celestia attempting to remember any signs of worry from Twilight while Pinkie tried to think of anything else that had concerned her over the last few days.

“Maybe...” Pinkie began before shaking her head. “No, she’d have mentioned if any more Pinkies turned up.”

Celestia’s eyebrows rose, but she did not ask what Pinkie meant, but  dearly hoped it was merely a reference to changelings.

More happy ponies to go around might be nice, but I’ll concede that in her case perhaps there can be too much of a good thing. Astra said, seemingly in agreement.

Celestia’s gaze went to the door that lead to the basement of the library. She thought back to the preceding weeks, trying to remember if she had witnessed anything unusual about Twilight’s behavior.

She does seem to spend an awfully long time down there, doesn’t she? Astra said. What do you suppose she’s been doing?

Celestia frowned, hoping she herself wasn’t the cause of Twilight’s worry. Ever since the mishap with Rarity, Twilight had seemed unduly concerned with speeding up Celestia’s recovery. Despite repeated assurances that time and rest were all that was needed.

Pinkie had been looking at her for some time, with an expectant hopeful expression. “Do you know why?”

“I...” Celestia hesitated on the verge of telling Pinkie it was nothing to worry about, then sighed regretfully. Much as it might have been good to settle Pinkie’s mind, it would only be worse when Twilight continued to show worrisome behavior. “I’m afraid I don’t. I do have some theories, but nothing I can say for certain.”

Pinkie let out a sigh, then nodded. “Right.”

They both sagged visibly, looking down at the table as if it would present some answer that it had not before.

“Am I being a silly Pinkie?” Pinkie asked abruptly, looking straight into Celestia’s startled countenance. “I mean, here I am, being all worried, and she’s downstairs probably working on her magic, or something else super important!” She frowned slightly tapping her hoof to her chin, and then in a sudden, horrific epiphany exclaimed: “Maybe I’m the one worrying her because she’s worried about me worrying about her worrying about me!”

Celestia’s mouth opened, but no sound emerged for a time as her thoughts were momentarily consumed in a recursive loop of Pinkie’s fears. She shook herself like a dog emerging from a rainstorm and said: “No, Pinkie. I suspect Twilight has something else on her mind. Though I wonder, what is she doing down there?”

Pinkie looked at the door and made motion to move towards it before stopping herself and reciting something she’d apparently diligently memorized: “Pinkamena Diane Pie is not to enter the Laboratory unless invited by Twilight Sparkle as Twilight might be working with volatile or dangerous chemicals and chemical burns are no fun. Pinkie is not to touch any buttons while in the lab, even if she is sure she knows what they do. These rules are for Pinkie’s safety, and not because Twilight doesn’t love her. She promises. Yes, she Pinkie Promises. Really really. Okay, I cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye. Ow.” She turned back to Celestia and smiled. “I don’t know! She hasn’t invited me down there for a while.”

Celestia nodded after a moment. “I see. Would you mind making sure the quiche comes out of the oven when the timer goes off?”

“Sure! What are you going to be doing?”

Celestia let the bubble come down with a sigh of relief. “I’m going to go see how Twilight is doing.”
> Chapter 5: A Place In Her Heart
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Midnight Oil was not a happy pony.

True, he was happier than he’d been in some time, having only recently returned from his long-belated honeymoon. He’d also been given a chance to prove himself worthy of the trust of both princesses of the realm, and he at last felt rested for the first time in several years. But these things did not help him when life decided to drop headaches in his lap on a consistent basis.

His latest headache had come in the form of a report from Celestia’s intelligence network. They had been keeping tabs on both of the sisters to ensure their safety, being instructed to adopt a strict policy of noninterference unless taking action was integral to protecting them.

Midnight was uncertain if he agreed with the agent in question, but one of them had apparently decided that a reporter spying on Princess Luna’s private affairs justified that reporter’s subsequent kidnapping and detainment, reasoning that it was to protect her reputation.

He sighed heavily, taking two pills from a small bottle in his desk drawer and swallowing them with a swig of water. He allowed himself just a moment to reflect on the fact that he had more or less wanted all of this: to be useful, and help shoulder the load of government from two beings who had been doing far too much. True, he hadn’t known just what he was inviting into his life, but the choice had been his.

This current choice was a difficult one: to leave the reporter to stew for a while, or set him loose with the potential for not only an unflattering and potentially scandalous story about Princess Luna, but also on his own ‘unjustified’ arrest. 

To make matters all the more complicated, the reporter in question was not exactly a fan of Luna’s; being one of the former members of Princess Celestia’s Press Corps that had been ousted by Luna after she took up for her sister while Celestia recovered. 

On the one hoof, there was ample reason to punish him on the grounds that he’d been trespassing on private property, taking unauthorized photos, and spying on a government official. But if Midnight did punish the stallion for those specific actions, Luna might take that as ample reason to act on some of her bluster about tarring and feathering the lot of them for their unflattering depictions of her actions.

He was fairly sure it was bluster, at least. He was content that she saw reason enough not to act on it if it was not. 

A decision had to be made, however. While the newspony wasn’t exactly being imprisoned, he was being held against his will in a guest bedroom in the palace. Which was close enough to imprisonment to make Midnight very uncomfortable.

All things considered, it would be easiest for all concerned if the newspony agreed to keep silent in return for leniency on his own offenses. 

That seemed unlikely to work even as Midnight mused about it. Reasonable ponies didn’t spy on other ponies in hopes of catching them doing something untoward.

Midnight didn’t feel like it was a great leap in logic to assume Luna had been doing something very much untoward, but she’d had the good sense to keep whatever it was as her own private business, and while he hated the idea of stifling the press, there were some matters one did not tolerate being aired out in public.

He looked up from the report, readied a fresh scroll, and penned a quick reply to the agent who had reported the incident, instructing them to make their ‘guest’ comfortable and to await further instructions. He then sent a request for two guards to be posted on the ‘empty room’ to ensure nopony attempted to leave it without authorization, and arranged for dinner service to be sent as well, as the agent could not exactly go out for a bite, nor could he get food for the guest.

As much as he hated the idea, keeping the newspony where he was did no further harm than had already been done. Midnight wanted Luna to weigh in on the matter before he was comfortable taking further action.

He put the matter out of his mind, turning his attention to the responses he’d received from Manehatten and Baltimare regarding the need for judges in Canterlot. As he’d suspected, there was not exactly a surplus amongst standing judges, but each city did have a considerable pool of retired ones, as current policy was to retire them after at most two decades of service to keep the perspectives of the ponies holding the position somewhat fresh. 

While many went on to practice law in the private sector, some simply chose to take their pension, and these were the ones that interested Midnight the most. He understood why the term limits were imposed, as even the best public servants could (would) succumb to stress otherwise, but that probably didn’t mean all of them were happy about their forced inactivity. 

He allowed himself a smile, satisfied that at least one thing was going as planned. Within a matter of days he expected to be seeing prospects for the lower courts, and they would uniformly be experienced judges from cities much larger than Canterlot. With all the trifles attended to, Celestia and Luna’s judgement could be reserved for the truly important matters. It would free them to the point that they would actually be able to have lives without the entire nation devolving into a state of chaos.

Perhaps then Princess Luna wouldn’t feel the need to sneak out. Credit where it was due on that count at least, she’d stopped sneaking after becoming the only functional princess in the nation. Now she simply let him know she would be out for a while, then dumped another pile of headaches into his lap. He suspected Luna and Life were in cahoots, both started with an L after all.

He turned his attention back to the spy’s report. While he himself did not wish to pry into her affairs, he did wonder why Luna’s comings and goings centered around the home of Fancy Pants. The pictures enclosed were vague, only showing her entering and leaving, and typically during the various parties Fancy would throw, but by itself that told him little, as a number of ponies attended. Fancy wasn’t well known for anything in particular, which could mean that he was simply a very boring pony; Or that he was a master of discretion in all things. After having met the stallion several times, Midnight was convinced it was the latter. It in turn made him suspect that Luna went there to have a clandestine tryst with somepony, as was known to happen more often than not at Fancy’s parties.

He shook his head, pushing aside his misgivings. It was her business, after all, and as long as it didn’t blow up in their faces and give the press more ammunition for calling her decisionmaking into question, he wouldn’t pry. It just made him wonder why it was she felt she could not trust him with her love life while she entrusted him with the very welfare of the nation.

Perhaps it was worth asking about.





Celestia treaded lightly as she descended the stairs to the library’s basement. There was a certain illicit thrill to it, as she recognized that Twilight had made this into a deeply personal space, more so than even Twilight’s own bedroom.

All around were the chemicals Pinkie had spoken of, various high-end calculating machines, and the shelves upon shelves of reference guides on what Celestia presumed to be every topic imaginable.

And in the middle of it all, Twilight stood frowning at a large chalkboard, scribbling calculations into it and occasionally groaning while erasing large sections of an equation that apparently didn’t work to her satisfaction.

“Twilight?” Celestia said as quietly as she could, hoping not to alarm her student overly much.

“Gah!”

The next instant was a flurry of activity as Twilight spun around to see Celestia, then quickly used her magic to flip the chalkboard. She then quickly flipped it again as she apparently realized she didn’t want the other side to be in plain sight either (Celestia caught a brief glimpse of stick figures she supposed were meant to be Pinkie and Twilight) before finally teleporting a drop cloth from somewhere and hastily arranging it over the chalkboard.

“Hey!” Pinkie exclaimed from upstairs. “Where’d the tablecloth go?”

“Princ—” Twilight began before snapping her mouth closed, earning her a little smile from Celestia. “Celestia! Hi! Is dinner ready already?”

Celestia nodded as she finished trotting down the stairs, coming to a stop beside Twilight and looking up at the chalkboard. “Some vexing problem, I take it?”

“Gals, I think we might have ghosts, or magicians... or the ghosts of magicians!” Pinkie called downstairs. “Ooh! Maybe the tablecloth was a ghost this whole time! Spooooky!”

“N-nothing I can’t figure out!” Twilight said quickly. “We should probably head up. We don’t want to keep Pinkie waiting.”

“True, but we should bring her the tablecloth before she starts telling the tale of the late Hoofdini.” Celestia said with a chuckle.

“Oh, I... um... I mean is a tablecloth really that important?” Twilight asked, visibly starting to sweat under Celestia’s gaze. 

Celestia allowed one single eyebrow to raise slightly above the other.

“Right... I’ll bring it back upstairs.” Twilight said, her shoulders slumping.

Celestia’s horn flashed, sending the tablecloth back to its previous position. Upstairs, Pinkie gasped, then began stomping in appreciation. 

“Encore! Encore!”

What was revealed under the cloth somewhat surprised Celestia.

She realised she’d seen parts of it before. It was a massive equation with various corrections and additions, all pointing to a single, unsolvable problem. It seemed as much chalk dust as fresh chalk marks, as could be testified by the various nubs of white contained in a little tray just below the board.

“What am I looking at, Twilight?” Celestia asked in a tone that even to her own ears sounded reverent. As much as it was hard to grasp the intent, it was easy enough to respect the sheer work put into the equation.

“The ‘Pinkie versus Not Pinkie problem’,” Twilight answered with an equally quiet tone. “Or, as best as I can express it with math.”

“Is... is that why you have so many—”

“Unknowns, yes. So many to account for,” Twilight replied, letting out a frustrated little sigh. 

“And... you’re trying to express your marefriend in mathematics because—”

“Because... Because I understand math, and I hoped it would help me understand her. And hopefully understand how I can best make her happy.”

The moment was so solemn between them that when the first giggle bubbled its way out of Celestia’s mouth her eyes opened wide in shock and dismay. It was not mocking in any way, and in fact was more than half hysterical in nature. She understood how Twilight might feel the way she did, but the very idea that Pinkie of all ponies was difficult to make happy was so ridiculous that it was impossible not to laugh, no matter how Celestia tried to hold it back.

Twilight stared at her, first in confusion, which quickly morphed into annoyance. “What’s so funny?” she demanded before quickly clamping her mouth shut and attempting to stammer out an apology.

“D-don’t apologize, that was very rude of me!” Celestia said, still not quite able to keep a grin off her face. “I just... Twilight, my poor Twilight... I don’t think you’ve ever misunderstood a pony more than Pinkie.”

“Misunderstood...” Twilight trailed off before whipping her gaze at the chalkboard. “I’ve studied her for months just trying to get the barest understanding of her! And now you’re telling me everything I’ve figured out is wrong?!”

“Not wrong, exactly...” Celestia replied, studying the equations as well. “You’re simply too engrossed in the overall enigma of her when what you really want to know is the simplest thing of all.” She erased a tiny ‘x’ next to an amazingly complex formula, writing in another symbol entirely that looked a bit like a smile turned sideways: “There.”

Twilight scrutinized the addition, frowning. “That’s not a solution, it’s just the expression of the amount of happiness she creates in others.”

“And that is what makes Pinkie the happiest.” Celestia replied.

Twilight shook her head. “Ponies don’t work like that. They have goals, likes and dislikes, f-fetishes—” she managed to say with a blush burning hot on her cheeks. 

“Oh, I’m certain Pinkie has those as well. But very few things bring her as much joy as seeing other ponies happy, and the ones she loves best make her happier still.”

“It can’t be that simple...” Twilight whispered as she actually reached out and touched the chalk with her hoof. 

“Pinkie is amazingly complex about some things, Twilight. But not about this. You want to make her happy? Be happy with her. Enjoy your time together. Have fun, for goodness sake!”

Twilight looked at the chalkboard for a while, saying nothing. She eventually allowed her shoulders to slump. “Of course it’s that simple. I’m an idiot. It was staring me in the face the whole time. I just didn’t want to believe it.”

Celestia reached out with a wing, laying the tip on Twilight’s shoulder. “You should tell her. She’s been worried.”

“No.” Twilight said firmly. “I’ve worried her enough already. I’ll just tell her everything is fine—” She stopped as Celestia shook her head. “What?”

“You’ve been avoiding talking to her, and it’s worrying her far more than if you were just honest with her.” Celestia said. “Honesty is just as important in a relationship as in a friendship, if not more so.”

Twilight opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, and closed it again. She stared furiously at the chalkboard and began pacing back and forth, frowning. 

“Fine,” she said, finally. “I’ll tell her after dinner.”

Celestia restrained the urge to sweep her student up in a hug, deeming it to be too motherly of a reaction, but she was very proud of Twilight for her resolution. “I’m sure she’ll be relieved. I am as well, actually. I’d gotten a bit wrapped up in my own relaxation, and the idea that I’d missed seeing that you were troubled was very disheartening. I had promised to help you, if I could. I feel like I’ve been failing you in that.”

Twilight scrambled about to face Celestia, looking alarmed. “Nonono! You’re supposed to be resting, that’s the whole point of having you here instead of in the capital! I mean, it’s been wonderful to have you here as well but you need to recover eventually and if you won’t let me try anything to help—”

“No,” Celestia interjected, in a firm voice that she tried to temper the harshness out of as much as she could.

“I didn’t say I was going to, just that you didn’t want me to. It’s not like I’ve been collecting ideas in a drawer at the bottom of my work desk. That would be silly!” Twilight’s eyes shifted away from Celestia’s accusing gaze to one such drawer before quickly shifting them away somewhere else while letting out a nervous laugh. “In any case, I wouldn’t actually try any of them without your permission.”

“I... suppose working on theories is no harm. It’s the implementation that got us where we are.” Celestia replied, feeling a little relieved that Twilight seemed to have at least given up on attempting anything risky, despite still studying the problem.

“Right,” Twilight said, nodding perhaps a little too quickly. “So, uh, dinner. We should eat that. Let me just put a few things away and I’ll be right up!”

Celestia looked at Twilight for a long moment, trying to decide if she’d managed to ferret out Twilight’s most immediate worries or if there was something else bothering her. She couldn’t quite have said why, just that she had a feeling that another horseshoe was about to drop. Eventually, she relented, reasoning that trying to solve every one of Twilight’s emotional problems before dinner might be a tall order even for her. So she gave Twilight a quick but affectionate nuzzle then walked upstairs, brandishing a brand new smile she’d made up on the spot. It was nice to try out a new one every once in a while, as the old tried and true ones tended to feel a bit worn over time. 

Pinkie sat at the table waiting for them, studiously looking in any direction but the door to the basement and being incredibly obvious about it. Pinkie’s eyes locked with hers the moment her head was visible, and she silently mouthed the question: “How did it go?”

Celestia smiled a little wider, and mouthed back: “Great!” She then trotted over to the table, laying out silverware for their meal.

“What was wrong?” Pinkie asked, still watching in the direction of the door for Twilight to emerge.

“She was working on a math problem she couldn’t seem to solve.” Celestia replied. “The way she was going about it was impossible, however, so I gave her a nudge to get her back on the right path.”

Slowly, Pinkie’s worried frown began to mirror Celestia’s smile. Celestia had to admit, the smile looked better on Pinkie than it felt on her own face.

“Okay! So she’s just being Twi-twi! That’s good! I mean, not good, but better than what I was worried about.” Pinkie sat back in the chair, looking far more relaxed than she’d been all afternoon. “So, what was it this time? The rabbit population? World hunger?”

“Much more personal.” Celestia said as she sat down. “She’s just obsessing over how to make you happy.”

“Really?” Pinkie asked, looking a little dumbstruck. “That’s it?”

Celestia nodded, and Pinkie wiped the back of her hoof over her brow, flicking away a drop of sweat. “You’re apparently quite the enigma to smarter ponies.”

“Phew! I was afraid it was something else! See, we’ve got this third date thing which isn’t really our third date it’s just the third time we’ve done something datelike since I broke up with her and then she broke up with me and anyway I was thinking maybe she was all stressed out about it because she promised to plan it out and she hasn’t said anything about it in a while!” Pinkie took a brief moment to inhale half of the available air in the room, then continued with: “I’m really, really glad it’s not that.”

There it is! Astra said with evident amusement. Saw that coming from a mile, no, several miles away.

Celestia felt a growing sense of dread creep up on her as she remembered her brief glimpse of the stick figures on the other side of the chalkboard. 

Ah, here we are. The two of them at dinner, branching paths of various scenarios... Celestia heard the sound of Astra clucking her tongue in disappointment. She does not think much of her odds in any of these. Even less as the evening progresses. How could she possibly think Pinkie would be anything but delighted just to have a nice evening with her?

“It’s... it’s not like it’s super important.” Pinkie said with a bright red blush on her cheeks. “It’s just... that’s the important one, right? The one where you... you know. We haven’t... not since it all went wrong. I want it to be right. Special. No games, y’know? Not this time.”

Oh. Even Astra seemed less flippant upon hearing Pinkie’s explanation. It’s that date. That... explains quite a bit. Doesn’t it?

Celestia opened her mouth, though what she was going to say was unclear even to her. To confirm Pinkie’s suspicions was to send her into another cycle of worry, and since Twilight had promised to make the plans herself, it would be fruitless and helpless worry. But it felt awful to lie and reassure her that everything was fine knowing it wasn’t.

She was spared temporarily from that decision by Twilight finally making her way up the stairs, smiling sheepishly even in the face of the oncoming pink train that threatened to send both of them toppling back down said stairs. She caught Pinkie in her arms while simultaneously side-stepping the entrance of the stairway in a move that looked like a rehearsed dance. Enjoyable to see, but just a little too practiced to have not been necessitated by many such near disasters.

Twilight hugged Pinkie back in what was surely a mareculean effort, given the strength of an earth pony hug, and knowing Pinkie’s in particular. Twilight whispered something in Pinkie’s ear, which caused Pinkie to hug her tighter for a moment before releasing her, to the evident regret of one and the relief of the other.

Celestia was forced to delve into her collection of practiced smiles while she considered what to do. 

Part of her wished to stand aside and let events unfold as they would, trusting that all would be well even if things went badly. That was, after all, how everything turned out on a long enough time scale: well. However she’d seen firsthoof the heartache these two could put each other through while wanting nothing more than to make the other happy.

Of course, there was the vocal and opinionated part that had literally manifested into its own persona in her head, which would have her scoop both of them up and preempt any potentially disastrous plans by simply throwing them both into bed and showing them in the most direct way how very much they were worthy of love.

Twilight sat down for dinner, and Pinkie began serving. It was a single moment of simple happiness. Celestia always felt a little guilty witnessing such moments, like a peeping tom, even knowing they both welcomed it.

They were an odd trio. The ageless mare who’d been cursed to love from without, finally invited in and unsure what to do. The mare who made her happiness from the joy of others, and Twilight, always, it seemed, the odd one out no matter what she attempted to do. Inexplicably feeling unsure of her own worth despite being valued beyond measure by the two of them.

Celestia replaced her polished smile with another. It was newly forged from determination, tempered in red hot love and passion, shaped by a hammer of will, and quenched in resolve.

Twilight was having a problem with her plans. They worried her. That worried Celestia. Twilight was nothing if not a planner, but perhaps... Perhaps she simply wasn’t experienced enough with these sorts of plans just yet.

Celestia was very, very good at planning. And if so required she could plan around the plans of others.





Luna frowned at Fancy Pants, not quite sure what to say. The advancement of the deserving seemed a rather sensible thing, and her sister was nothing if not sensible. “What do you mean she tried? Was there some sort of uprising against her because of it? Because if so, let them protest. We will have Our will done.”

Fancy shook his head solemnly. “No, Luna. There was no outcry. I simply told her I wouldn’t have it.”

“What...” Luna’s frown deepened. “Why would you... Fancy, you’re more than worthy of a higher standing amongst your peers! I scarcely can think of them as your ‘peers’ in truth. Elevating you would only make it clearer that they are beneath you.”

“I’m not worthy, Luna. That is what I told her. I thanked her, of course, because it’s wonderful to be thought of so highly by the Ruler of the Realm—”

“By both of them.” Luna said firmly.

“Yes, well, you weren’t quite yourself at the time. Or even known to exist beyond legend, for that matter. Suffice to say, I didn’t wish it, and I still don’t. A new title won’t gain me any respect beyond what I’ve managed to finagle on my own, and might actually lose me some standing from ponies who believed I was abusing our...” He paused for a long moment, considering, and continued with: “That I was abusing our relationship, as it were.”

Luna considered his words for some time, feeling dissatisfied with them. Fancy was being just like her Middy, refusing gifts she wished to bestow which in turn made her feel oddly powerless to express her affection. The more she thought about it, the more she became concerned with the implications of his words. “Would... would the revelation of my affection for Fleur cause you problems, Fancy?”

At that moment Luna was privy to something she had never before seen; Fancy Pants looked uncomfortable. It was oddly endearing, and in another context she might have wanted to give him a hug, but in this one it simply confirmed her fears. “I... might be seen as a bit less of a stallion by those that care about that sort of thing. Then again, what stallion could possibly compete with one of the leaders of our land?”

Luna frowned. There was no question in her mind of Fancy’s virility. She’d experienced it firsthoof, after all. That being said, it wasn’t a thing she was eager to proclaim to the rooftops. 

“I’m honestly more concerned that it would be seen as some sort of means to an end to attaining your personal favor. It comes with a similar set of shackles that Princess Celestia’s offer did. I may have been born into wealth, but my social standing I had to earn by being a crafty scamp. If I am perceived to have convinced you to hoof over the treasury I begin to look less the rogue and more the cheat, you see? Some might see me as having traded my darling for your personal attention and support.”

“But that’s patently untrue!” Luna said, slamming a hoof down on the table and making her glass shake and splash water everywhere. “You were some of my first and most supporting friends, and... then Fleur...” Luna blushed furiously as she remembered the impudent smile and the stolen kiss. “R-regardless, my attention is not so cheaply bought. Which is not to say that either of you are not treasures, and certainly do have my attention—” She stopped, feeling flustered.

Fancy smiled wryly. “I understand. But perception is far more important than truth to the foolish, and my peers are very foolish. My worries were much the same as my friendship with Princess Celestia developed. So... while I appreciate the offer, I’m afraid I must decline any favor you wish to bestow on me personally.”

Luna opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again, pouting. She was beginning to question the use of having unlimited political power if she could not grant boons to her valued servants and loved ones, nor could she punish her enemies with impunity. “Very well, Fancy,” she said at last.

“Thank you, Luna,” Fancy replied, looking considerably more relaxed than he had since she’d brought the discussion up. “I do appreciate that you consider me so highly.”

Luna nodded brusquely, still pouting. She resolved to gift Fleur with a large shipment of tobacco, reasoning that if the gift were one pony removed it would perhaps be less problematic.

Failing that, she’d have to resort to making the ponies of the Black Hoof deliver her gifts instead. She half considered taking them on as retainers.

She yawned suddenly, remembering that it was still quite late, or early, depending on one’s point of view. “Yes, well, I think I’m going to go rejoin Fleur. I did promise her, after all.”

“I’ll be along shortly,” Fancy said, picking up a book and opening it at the marker. “I’d like to finish this chapter.”

Luna nodded, waving backwards as she went back down the hall. Her thoughts were plagued with new concerns. She did not wish to cause Fancy trouble in her declaration, but neither did she wish to hide it. Both Fleur and he deserved her acknowledgment, adoration, and more besides.

This new age had such interesting ideas about love, but in some ways the tired old ways held sway. Friends could and did enjoy each other with little to no social stigma, but couples were still expected to adhere to the vows spoken to each other. And while that was fine for some, it was clearly not for all.

She herself could not claim to understand, as she had very nearly cost herself her friendships with Fluttershy and Rarity in her naivete. Bonds meant for two did not so easily accept a third.

The bond between Fancy and Fleur was made of different stuff than most. It was strong, but flexible where others were rigid. Nothing could hope to break it, not even the new one between Fleur and herself, for it fit neatly within the larger bond. But while she knew that, it would prove difficult to explain to the populace. They may very well think him less for having ‘lost’ his wife, even to one such as Luna.

Stopping at a window, she glared out at the city balefully. Luna knew exactly which ponies would mock Fancy behind his back. She’d interacted in at least small ways with the majority of the power in the city, and had made a list of those troublesome souls.

She kept it in a small lockbox near her bed, and sometimes dreamed of the night she would have them rounded up and executed. At other times she dreamed more darkly and slew them herself. Those were... therapeutic. But despite her own occasional proclamations, she was well aware this could not come to pass. Smiting one’s enemies was too simple for this new age. Better to turn them to allies through persuasion, or at the least make them stay out of her way through intimidation.

Knowing this did not make it less pleasant to dream about.





Fleur was already asleep as Luna returned to the master bed, though her posture seemed fitful. Luna eased herself into bed next to her, and immediately felt white manicured hooves latch around her barrel in a tight embrace. She struggled for air for a brief moment before willing herself calm, reminding herself that despite habit she did not need to breathe as often as normal ponies did, or at all if it came to it. Nevertheless, it did feel better when the grip eased, allowing her chest to rise and fall as it normally did.

She smiled, affectionately gathering Fleur into the embrace of her outstretched wing and nuzzling her.

“What shall We do, Dame?” she asked quietly in the darkness.

Fleur offered no response, having slipped into a deeper sleep with a tiny smile on her lips. Luna smiled back, despite knowing there was nopony to see it. Without the fear of being the cause of a broken marriage, being with Fleur was a pure and simple joy the likes of which she’d not experienced since—

“Since her,” Luna said out loud, a little wonderingly. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen a trait in Fleur that Blossom had shared in kind. For two ponies separated by centuries and social status alike they had so many little habits in common.

Or, perhaps, it was simply that Luna noticed them all the more for being endeared to both.

What surprised her most was not that her mind held forth the comparison, but that it brought no accompanying pain in her heart with it. It was pleasant to think of Blossom, to remember long years together. She yawned, laying her head down on the pillow next to Fleur’s. 

Her ears perked up as she heard Fleur laugh in the distance. She blinked, looking down to find the stonework and greenery of her personal garden, looking just as it had so many nights before.

Above, the field of stars twinkled, and her moon hung low, as if spying upon her. She wandered for a time, following the hushed voices of what she had realized were two mares, one she recognized as Fleur’s, the other she found achingly familiar.

“Ma Petite!” Fleur called out as Luna rounded a corner to find the speakers sitting together on a bench. “You join us at last!” she patted the stone slab directly next to her.

Luna did as she was bid, feeling a little confused that she was being invited to sit in her own garden. She was more so by the pony sitting next to Fleur. Seeing them both side by side was jarring enough to wake her mind from its dreaming state to a much more aware one.

“She is tres bon, Princesse,” Fleur said with a knowing smile. “I see why you love her.”

“Fleur... what?” Luna managed to say eventually.

Fleur shrugged. “I am as mystified as yourself. I was dreaming of some dreary party and decided to step away, then I found a large door with a crescent symbol. I opened it, and found this garden, and Ms. Blossom on the other side.”

“Blossom is fine, Dame De Lis,” Night Blossom said with a smile.

“If we’re going to use titles, I would have to ask what one calls the lover of a Princess,” Fleur retorted with an even bigger smile.

“The caretaker, of course,” Blossom responded with a little laugh.

Fleur joined in, leaving Luna to stare at both of them wondering if she’d gone mad again.

It was something one always had to consider, having lost one’s sanity once before.

“You... don’t question any of this, Fleur?” Luna asked.

Fleur shrugged once more. It was a languid and fluid movement that spoke of utter relaxation and distinct lack of care. “We are dreaming, non? To see loved ones long gone is something one can expect.” She looked around nervously and added in undertone, “I hope this is your dream and not mine, I am not ready to see grand-mère et grand-père just yet...”

“But... I only just fell asleep,” Luna protested. “And you were here before me, clearly... for you’ve been talking to each other for some time—”

“Not for so very long,” Fleur answered. “Long enough to exchange names, and for me to recognize hers. Since then we’ve been speaking of you very much.”

Luna’s mind boggled, wondering once again at the odd way in which time worked in her realm, or rather, the way it did not. Mere moments could pass in a dream only for hours to have gone by in the waking world. The opposite was equally likely. Scientists had been studying the phenomenon for generations and making very little progress beyond getting a lot of napping done. Since her return she’d had several groups approach her about being taken physically into her realm, and she’d turned them all down, claiming it would be far too dangerous.

Experiencing the effects herself outside of her own created dreams, she began to entertain taking a device or two with her, to satiate her own curiosity as much as theirs. As much as dreams were her domain, she had so little true understanding of that which she was ruler of.

Blossom embraced her as she sat between the two of them, whispering in her ear: “I like her. She seems good for you.”

Luna nodded dumbly, uncertain of what to say when one’s long dead lover expresses approval of the current one. ‘Thank you’ seemed a little trite, and she was uncertain how she felt about discussing Fleur with said long dead lover, much less while Fleur herself sat on her other side.

“She’s flustered, I think,” Fleur said from her other side. 

“I-I am not!” Luna said vehemently, glaring daggers at Fleur while trying desperately to stop blushing.

“She’s definitely flustered.” Blossom said, standing up and studying Luna intently. “See how the muscles just under her muzzle move? She’s trying to keep her teeth from grinding together.”

“Really?” Fleur replied, looking curiously upward, then nodding. “Ah, I see. I watch her wings instead. Her posture shifts just a little and they begin to lift from her side.”

Luna huddled into herself, spreading her wings in a sudden broad sweep to push both of them away.

There was a shocked silence, followed by Blossom saying: “Oh dear, we’ve offended the Princess.”  

Fleur laughed heartily, and peeked at Luna from under her wing. “Non, she is pouting, now.”

“We are not pouting!” Luna said in a voice that reverberated throughout the garden, startling several species of wildlife in the process.

“Shhhh,” Fleur said as she ducked under the wing to nuzzle against Luna’s burning cheek, giving it a little affectionate peck. “No harm was meant, ma petite.”

Slowly and resentfully, Luna allowed the wing to fall, wrapping it around Fleur while looking pointedly away from her. She simultaneously lifted the wing on her other side until it was above Night Blossom, then closed it, drawing her close in the process.

“You dare so much...” Blossom said, wonderingly. “Do you even know whom you toy with?”

“I was ever one to play with fire. If she burns me up, at least the flames will be glorious,” Fleur replied, frustratingly unrepentant. “But you know, do you not? You dared much, too.”

“Not so much as this. I’m fairly certain there would have been demands for my head if the noble houses knew how much I did, but I did not test the Princess herself.”

“I would have crushed them to the last had they laid a hoof on one of your tail hairs,” Luna snarled, holding Blossom just a little tighter.

“That is adorable!” Fleur said from her other side. “I wish I had been able to know you in life, Blossom. If you bring such passion out of ma petite you would have been one of my favorite ponies.”

“Blossom would have liked you as well, I think. Though she’d probably have been very protective of Princess Luna at first, even if there was little she could have done to you beyond perhaps attempting to poison you with some of the exotic plants the Princess cultivated here. I think your existence would have made her very unhappy, because she’d have been convinced you had stolen her Princess’s heart away.” Night Blossom trailed off solemnly. “I think I am happier to know you after my life, because you might have made her end her life early out of despair.”

Fleur frowned momentarily, then nodded, some small shadow of the smile returning. “Things were very different for you. Forgive me, Blossom. But rest assured, her heart is safe.”

“I know,” Blossom said, simply. “I am her heart’s caretaker. You cannot take my place. But nevertheless, you have entered her heart, and I welcome you.”

Fleur’s smile became more relaxed. “Merci beaucoup, gardien. But I think you misunderstand. We like each other very much, but—”

Luna had been silent for some time, uncertain what she could possibly say. But she felt confident she had a response to give Fleur, at least. “Just... listen to her.”

There was a long silence as Fleur just looked at Luna from under her wing. She got out from under it, looking just a little reluctant, and made a little space between them. “Ma petite... you are very kind, but there is no need to fib. You are my dear friend, and I love you, but I know you do not—”

“Love is not something you can easily seek out, Fleur,” Blossom said, extracting herself from under Luna’s other wing and getting up so she could face Fleur without looking past Luna’s chest. “It likes to surprise you.”

“Oh?” Fleur said, a single eyebrow raised. “How did Blossom surprise you, ma petite?”

“She—” Luna stopped suddenly, unable to speak the words as she relived the memory. She saw flashes of a smoke filled battlefield. A flanking strike by Sombra’s elite, cutting through her meager defenses, and a blow meant for her caught by her former gardener who had insisted on becoming her shieldmaiden for reasons known only to her. 

“She made a grand and stupid gesture, while she was at a place she should never have been, because she did not wish for her Princess to be without her.” Blossom said from somewhere a million miles away. 

Luna hadn’t had the heart to deny her favorite servant, and had thought them both safe enough in the rear lines. She had stood over Blossom after slaying the entire regiment of Sombra’s slaves, and had heard her gasp out something that both shocked and enraged Luna. To find out such a thing as her favored servant lay in a pool of her own blood... 

“It very nearly killed her. It should have. And with what would have been her dying breath, she—” Blossom said, looking not at Fleur, but at Luna. 

“She told me she loved me, and always had since the moment we’d met,” Luna said, smelling the smoke and blood as if she was still there. “I looked down at her, and something in me... broke. I pulled at a wellspring from deep within myself, performing a type of magic that had never been done before, and I forced life back into her.”

Blossom nodded, turning back to Fleur and saying: “She didn’t dare say it in life, but she could say it then. Blossom was a very foolish pony.”

“That... is quite the surprise,” Fleur said slowly. “I can see why you guard her heart. You won it at great cost.”

Blossom nodded solemnly. “But I never meant to claim it for all time, Dame. She was supposed to have found another she could love. Several more, even.” Blossom shot Luna an accusing glance, which softened into a smile. “It took her longer than I would have hoped, and as before, it was a pony who was not afraid to risk everything for a chance at her favor.”

“I certainly didn’t declare my love on a battlefield.” Fleur replied, scoffing.

Blossom smiled. “No. But you had your own trials. You won yourself a place, all the same.” She took one of Fleur’s hooves in her own, and brought it together with one of Luna’s. “Take care of her, sister. She needs somepony like you in her life.” 

She let their hooves drop, smiling brilliantly. “I have my duties to tend to. I imagine you two have something to discuss.” With that she began to fade out, like a shadow slinking back from sunlight.

“Wait!” Luna called out to her hastily. “Don’t leave, please!”

Though the mare had mostly faded, the smile remained. “I would never, Princess. Whenever you want me, all you have to do is dream.”

The two remaining ponies sat together for a time, both looking at the space that Night Blossom had previously occupied. After an indeterminate time, Fleur turned to Luna, a curious but pleased look on her face. 

“Did you have something you wished to tell me, ma petite?”
> Chapter 6: Sing Me Your Love Song
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Celestia waited until Pinkie had gone home and Twilight had gone to bed before she began her investigation. To plan, you needed intelligence, and her network was currently beyond her reach. It was not a role she was unfamiliar with, however. Celestia was a pony that constantly gathered information from all available sources, and while she was limited to her own senses, they were the easiest to access anyway.

She crept down the stairs, hesitating for a moment to turn on the light before she remembered that it was only Twilight and herself in the library. Caution was certainly warranted, but not to the point of risking injury.

What exactly are you doing now? Astra asked, sounding pointedly tired - something Celestia hadn’t thought her capable of.

“Sneaking?” Celestia offered with a whisper.

May I ask why? You’re the only conscious one in the library. As long as you don’t start stomping around or sing an opera you should be fine.

Celestia frowned, but had to admit Astra was right. All the sneaking did was make the spying seem a little more fun. “Fine,” she said, adding “Spoilsport,” in an undertone.

What is it you hope to find in Twilight’s lab?

“Well, I had hoped for more details on her date plans...”

You’ve seen them, I have them here!

Celestia sighed, pausing mid-step to give Astra her full attention. “Yes, that’s nice for you, but as much as I would like to, I don’t have the ability to read my own memory like a card catalogue.”

Actually, it’s more like the moving pictures they’ve begun showing in the cinemas. Although it is all neatly within volumes you’d recognize as looking a bit like encyclopedias. The older memories are brittle and harder to make out, a bit like microfiche, though some seem to be very durable—

“As fascinating as it is to hear how a mental construct of my own mind views my memories, it’s not terribly helpful. I need to actually view her plans again to consider my own.” Celestia said testily. 

Well fine, do it the hard way. Astra replied, sounding a little disappointed for reasons that Celestia could not immediately discern.

“I will, but I do appreciate your attempts to help,” Celestia replied in a more genial tone. 

Yes, well... at least now you appreciate the effort, Astra replied, sounding somewhat mollified. And it’s nice to see you taking action, even if I still think you should do something much more direct.

“I think it will be more beneficial for all concerned if I simply try to support Twilight’s efforts as opposed to subverting them,” Celestia said as she reached the bottom of the stairs. “Besides, I’m really looking forward to hearing Pinkie gush about their evening afterwards.”

She is especially adorable when she gushes... Astra replied, sounding incredibly conflicted. Fine, fine. I withhold my objections yet again.

Celestia wisely did not reply, instead trotting lightly to the chalkboard and flipping it around to the opposite side. What she found made her confused for a moment, then more than a little upset.

Oh, dear.

It was a rare thing to see a pristine chalkboard in the abode of a scientist. At the very least you would find a fine layer of chalk dust from the resulting erasure, but this board looked almost newly made. Celestia eyed it carefully, but could not even find lines as one would see from the use of a squeegee, or the telltale swirls of a polishing cloth.

Twilight had clearly put some effort into removing all trace of what had been on this side of the board.

That’s a lot blanker than you remember it being.

“I’m well aware,” Celestia said through gritted teeth.

Did you want some help now?

“I’m not sure how you could, exactly.”

There was a pause, followed by what sounded like the pages of a book flipping inside of her head. 

Goodness, you’ve learned a lot of spells in your time. I think I found the relevant one, however. You’ll need to cast ‘Sonny’s Projection’.

Celestia considered that for a long moment, frowning. “That’s for displaying memories, but you need to have one in mind, I’m not sure how—”

I have all of your memories right here at my hooftips, more or less. You provide the projection, I’ll provide the memory, and then you can see what Twilight was up to.

“Hmmm,” Celestia murmured noncommittally. She’d just discovered an odd benefit to Astra that she’d never even considered. The idea that Astra had access to her memories and could see and hear everything Celestia herself did (provided she was paying attention or was not directly shut out by Celestia’s magic) had been disturbing when she was viewed as a non-friendly entity. But a friend who could, at least in theory, grant her what amounted to a photographic memory... that posed all sorts of potential. She lit up her horn, keeping her mind blank of any immediate memories as she cast the spell, then smiled as an image of various branching paths of choices and calculations of their odds of success was projected onto the blank chalkboard.

I think she’s got the right idea with roses, though pink roses would go over better than red, don’t you think?

“Red is more for romantic intentions...” Celestia replied as she studied the still image in her projection.

Yes, but pink conveys so many emotions that apply; joy, admiration, and sweetness, for example. And besides, this is the mare who hugged the life out of you because you told her your coat was a shade of pink. You need to know your audience.

Celestia nodded, making a mental note to contact the flower stand and get them to change the roses to pink.

You know, looking at this, she must have been taking notes directly from some guidebook or other. I mean, for a normal mare, this would be fine, and I think Pinkie would enjoy it for Twilight’s sake... But it doesn’t feel very tailored to her, does it?

“Twilight is doing her very best, I am sure...”

Oh, I am as well. She probably read every relationship guide and had a few more shipped from Canterlot. But she’s right to think some of this won’t be very fun for Pinkie. Pinkie will make it fun, but that’s going to be a lot of effort on her part for some of this.

Frowning, Celestia looked over the whole of the projection as it was overlaid with the clean chalkboard. Astra had a point. The events as laid out represented a perfectly romantic evening, culminating in a night spent in what amounted to Ponyville’s best hotel (with all of the construction workers working to fix the town, hotels had sprung up in several locations to meet the need) but none of it seemed very Pinkie Pie, nor did any of it scream Twilight.

Short of entirely subverting it, Celestia didn’t see how to salvage any of it. Which wasn’t to say it would be a horrible night for either, but it wasn’t the sort of time Pinkie seemed to be wanting for that mystical third date she’d been envisioning.

Not much to work with here, is there?

“No... and that’s the frustrating part. All of this is perfectly fine, but none of it seems like them at all. Flowers are a nice gesture, more so if we get them in pink as you said, but she has them going to a restaurant that I don’t think either of them will enjoy.”

Celestia could understand why Twilight had picked it, at least. Chateau Jolie was one of the most highly regarded restaurants in Canterlot. But it was a bad choice because neither Pinkie nor Twilight would find the foods they enjoyed there.

Celestia had tried to introduce a bit of variety to their diets, reasoning that if she was going to publicly acknowledge the pair she would likely want to present them during the occasional event or dinner, but had been largely unsuccessful. She blamed her own cooking, as she herself had tasted many a delicacy but her ability to recreate such dishes was lacking. She had enthusiasm for cooking, but no real practice, having been shamed out of her own castle’s kitchens by well-meaning staff who rightfully pointed out that she was paying them to do a job and not allowing them to do it did both she and them a disservice.

Pinkie had far more skill, being that she’d made a profession of it, but her interests were strictly the cakes, pies, and cupcakes that she was used to, and relatively simple ‘home style’ dishes, mostly involving eggs cheeses and starches. Asking her to make something more complicated was sure to result in something was almost, but not quite, entirely unlike anything you’d ever envisioned. It was usually a fun time, at least.

Twilight’s tastes were even more simple. If left to her own devices she’d likely eat nothing but sandwiches and salads, assuming she remembered to eat at all. She viewed cooking like a science, which tended to result in dishes that were rather bland. Despite her limited views on food, she clearly understood what a good restaurant was supposed to be in theory, but in practice it made more sense to simply go to a place that served food you would like.

“The hotel is likewise nice, but neither of them will feel at home in it...” Celestia trailed off, a deep set frown on her face. “Pinkie’s been so very patient, she deserves better.”

My option is always available…

Celestia snorted and waved a hoof dismissively. “I can’t justify joining them into a trio with myself before they’ve properly become a couple. Twilight needs the confidence this success will bring her. Pinkie needs the closeness she’s been craving but never quite achieved. They don’t need me interfering in that.”

Does it really matter if the end result is the same?

“It matters,” Celestia said firmly. “It matters to Pinkie, and Twilight.”

And to you, it seems.

“Of course it matters to me. But I’m the least important in the overall equation.”

I don’t think either of them would agree with that valuation, and I’m hardly an unbiased party. But fine. You want things to go well for them, but it’s clear the path Twilight has laid out will be at best mildly disappointing if everything goes perfectly. What can you do? You could have subtly changed a few things on her board, asked for different flowers, used your name and connections to get them better rooms, but here is a literal blank slate. What now?

Celestia stared at the projection for a moment longer, then allowed the spell to end. “If I can’t change the plan, I’ll just have to talk to the planner, and get her to come up with a better one.”

Astra snorted in derision. You have a literal blank slate here. If you’re going to go to the trouble of tipping your hoof that far, why not go further and draw out a presentation with graphs and diagrams? You can show her in the morning.

“That wouldn’t be her plan at all,” Celestia protested.

Now you’re just equivocating. Astra replied. You can’t have it both ways. You either take the reins, or you allow her to win or lose on her own.

Celestia frowned for a moment before allowing her face to relax. Astra, despite her rudeness, was right. Celestia had to be very careful in her meddling. “I have to remember, despite having my memories, and some of my less desirable traits... You’re not me, and that means you’ve never taught before.”

And that means?

“That means there is a third option. I won’t plan it for her, and I won’t let her flounder on her own. I’ll simply ask her to try again, and try to explain where I think she went wrong. The final answer has to be hers, or she won’t learn anything.”





Twilight woke up with a start as she felt her bed shift with a sudden impact. She blinked in the darkness, though as her eyes adjusted she recognized that the light of false dawn was coming through her window, casting her bedroom in an eerie light.

Looking around, she spotted a larger than average pony shape. It smiled at her, and suddenly the room was filled with the gentle glow of illumination coming from the pony’s coat.

“Oh good, I thought I would have to shake you awake,” the pony said, scooting closer to Twilight on the bed.

“Mmmmwha?” Twilight managed to say, followed by a jaw-cracking yawn.

"Good morning, Twilight. I'm meddling. Wipe the sleep out of your eyes, you’re going to plan a date for you and Pinkie."

Twilight blinked, then blinked again. She wasn’t entirely certain what time it was, beyond the simple fact that the sun was not up yet and that she was certain she’d gone to bed well after midnight. Those two variables assured her that whatever amount of sleep she’d gotten, it had definitely not been enough. “Princess Celestia?” she said, not entirely sure if she was even right about that. Another moment passed before she added: "I... I already made plans—"

"I know, I saw, they'd be perfect for anypony else. You're starting over. Drink this."

The glowing pony who was probably Princess Celestia, proffered a thermos to Twilight, who stared at it for a long moment, uncertain what to do with it. The lid turned in the gentle golden glow of Celestia’s magic, and what emerged was a scent that was assuredly divine in nature.

Twilight took the thermos in her hooves, tilting the lip of the container towards her mouth, and was rewarded with a rush of heat and sweetness, with the barest hint of a bitter undertone all but hidden by a rich cream. The caffeine lit up various dormant parts of her brain, even the smell shredding the cobwebs from her mind.

She blinked again, using a whisk of magic to wipe away the aforementioned sleep crusts from the edges of her eyes. While she wasn’t quite awake enough to be properly panicked about it, her slowly awakening mind informed her that she likely had bed mane, that the Princess was patiently waiting for a response of some kind, and as a quick finale, that she’d once again disobeyed the Princess’s wishes to be called by her name and not her title.

Twilight decided to ignore all of that for the time being, instead focusing on what Celestia had said in response to her assertion of having made plans already. She frowned, and took another long sip of coffee, and said: "My plans should be fine. Every book said that it would be the perfect romantic night for two average ponies. Granted it didn’t specify gender but the age range was correct and all of the demographics—"

“Twilight.”

“I even accounted for the Venn crossovers of general interests shared by unicorns and earth ponies—”

“Twilight.”

“And the chart says—”

“Twilight!” Celestia said in a voice that demanded Twilight’s attention.

Twilight blinked again, closing her mouth. She looked at the thermos, opened her mouth again, and filled it with the salvation within.

“I’m certain you made every effort to ensure a statistically perfect date, Twilight. But neither of you match anything I would call average.” Celestia said from somewhere outside of the confines of the thermos.

Twilight would have been upset by this, but couldn’t quite muster up a proper response to her teacher and longtime crush waking her up well before the sun had arisen to tell her that her plans for the all-important third date with Pinkie Pie weren’t good enough.

That was entirely ignoring how the Princess even knew about said plans, when Twilight had painstakingly removed any written record of them that could have been found outside of spaces she’d prepared that strictly speaking existed outside of this particular plane of existence. While the Princess assuredly knew such spells herself, the whole point of creating such a storage space with magic was that it was only accessible to the caster themselves, or the one it had been created for.

She did not question this because the Princess had been making the impossible mundane for far longer than Twilight could properly conceive of in the sleep deprived state she was in. Truthfully, Twilight at that moment in time could not conceive of many lengths of time beyond how many more hours she wished to lay her head back to her pillow.

“All right,” Twilight said with a yawn. “Let’s do this.”

She slowly got up out of bed, feeling every ache and protest in her body, stopping only for a moment to finish off the contents of the thermos. 

The Princess got up from the bed as well, actually hopping down like a filly would from a stool that was too tall for her.

Twilight blinked once more. She wasn’t used to seeing the Princess act excited, or... cute. It was very odd to see anything that the very pinnacle of pony poise and posture was doing as being adorable. Her half-conscious mind boggled at it while she followed the Princess down the stairs, then had to contend with the fact that the Princess was prancing in barely suppressed glee.

While they made their way to the lab, Celestia produced another thermos and did something else Twilight was not prepared to contend with: the Princess was babbling.

“I’m really sorry to have woken you out of a sound sleep like this but for some reason I get my very best ideas at around four in the morning. I usually just jot them down but tonight after trying and failing to get to sleep more times than I care to admit I decided it would be best to just jump on this particular problem headlong because I know it’s been bothering you. Even Pinkie has been picking up on it and she has such terrible trouble reading your moods at times, the poor dear—”

Twilight paused at the top of the stairs leading to her lab, opening up the new thermos and pouring more coffee into her otherwise empty and protesting tummy. She’d learned some new things about her mentor in a very short time. She’d also learned that it was likely just barely past four in the morning. 

Watching the Princess bound happily downstairs, she accepted the fact that she was unlikely to get any more sleep that morning. Despite that, she smiled. If this resulted in making Pinkie happy, she was happy to sacrifice a night’s sleep for it.







“Fleur... I... I’m sorry,” Luna said at last. “I did not intend to allow these feelings within myself. I wished to... keep things simple, between us.”

“I’m going to assume there is a change you wish to tell me about at some point,” Fleur prompted, looking even more amused.

Luna frowned at Fleur, a snorted exhalation blowing her ethereal mane away from her eyes. “I was getting to that, yes...”

Fleur tittered into the hoof that was not clasped together with Luna’s own. “Forgive me, ma petite. Please, do go on.”

Luna looked sidelong at Fleur, raising a single eyebrow at her in an expression meant to convey all of her frustration and anger. She did not, however, allow her hoof to drop from Fleur’s own. “You...” she began, pausing for a moment to collect her thoughts. “You infuriate me. Not even my own sister has dared as you have. I feel drawn to you like a moth to a flame, and you constantly burn me for my trouble, yet I seek more. For I so desire that warmth, that light that you shed.”

Fleur’s eyes became rounder, and she actually blushed, which was practically unseen in their interactions. “This is... some poem you wrote? To her, yes? You’re quite talented.”

Luna frowned and shook her head. “I’m being serious, Fleur.”

“Oh, most serious. I can tell. Go on, sing me your love song.”

“I didn’t want to love you, Fleur De Lis!” Luna said in a sudden fit of anger. She continued in a softer voice: “I wanted our playful and somewhat antagonistic friendship to go on for as long as you wished to have me as a playmate. But... I could not ignore your feelings forever. Despite myself, despite everything telling me how very bad it would be for both of us, I found myself returning them. And now, here we are.” Luna shrugged helplessly, her wings fluttering briefly as she did so. “I am at a loss. I want to tell the kingdom that I have found you, but...”

“But I was already found,” Fleur said, nodding. “Scandalous. It would assuredly nettle many.”

“That’s precisely my fear—” Luna began before Fleur rushed forward in a sudden kiss.

“You should do it,” Fleur said with a smile. “If you wish to acknowledge our little ménage à trois, do not let the words of old mares and foolish stallions dissuade you.”

“But Fancy’s reputation—”

“Will only grow from this,” Fleur supplied. “To be graced with the Princess’ presence... Stallions and many, many mares will envy him, and want to be him.” Fleur purred as she languidly traced little circles on Luna’s hoof with her own free one. 

“But... he is not you... That is, I don’t know if I feel for him as I do for you, Fleur. I had intended for you and I...” Luna said, feeling the situation rapidly escaping her control.

“But he is still a paramour, non?” Fleur snuggled closely, her voice dropping to a breathy whisper. “You have taken him as a lover, and he is dear to you as a friend as well. That is how we started, non? Simply take us both as your own, and nopony would ever think less of him.”

Luna’s eyes opened wide suddenly, for the thought of simply taking them both had not seriously occurred until Fleur suggested it. “May... May I simply do so? He is your husband, Fleur...”

“Fancy is mine, ma petite. But you may absolutely take him.” Fleur replied, kissing Luna lightly on the cheek. “If it troubles you, you could, of course, ask him before you take him, but he likes to do things that make me happy. Also, he likes you very, very much. I think of all our guests you’ve always been his favorite.”

Princess Luna considered Fleur’s words, finding they appealed to the mare who wore the crown, but also having to consider whether it was also the right decision for the crown itself. “He may say no, Fleur. He said he was uncertain about joining a royal harem.”

These words seemed to electrify Fleur, her grin became something that would have perhaps made Pinkie herself envious, though the look in her eyes spoke of something far less playful and more predatory. It was much like a cat having spotted a wounded bird debating whether to toy with it before the kill. “Do you wish to have a harem?”

Luna blushed furiously “I... That is... We had not intended—”

“Because I will recruit for you a harem of the most comely mares and stallions!” Fleur said in a rush, looking positivity ecstatic to even have it suggested. “I know my model friends would jump at the very chance—”

“No!” Luna all but screamed. “No, don’t do that!”

Fleur’s smile remained just as manic, and she asked: “So then, Fancy and I will be enough?”

Luna hesitated for the barest moment. “Y-yes! That is... perhaps two more, if events progress in that direction...” she trailed off, uncertain of how to explain.

Fleur looked at her curiously, then nodded. “Ah, Rarity and her Butterfly. I understand. I promise I will not be jealous so long as you invite them by some night. Est-ce d'accord?”

“I cannot promise that. I do not know if we’ll ever be more than friends. I am very happy we remain that much.” Luna admitted, feeling a little sad even as she said it. Being forgiven by others did not easily translate to forgiving one’s self, however well-intentioned her actions had been at the time. Her ears flattened as she recalled Fluttershy rebuffing her for being so careless with Rarity’s safety and then failing to explain the danger as a further crime.

Good intentions would not have consoled a widow. Luna, having been one, knew that well.

“Well, if you only remain friends, I would still ask that you invite them. We’ll simply have a different sort of celebration, and be no worse off for it.” Fleur said, nuzzling Luna’s cheek. “Do not fret, pursue them as you wish.”

Luna nodded dumbly, letting herself be comforted. She was uncertain how this particular conversation was going to go in the waking world, but was pleased with how well it had gone in her dream.

That was to say nothing of the conversation to come between her and Fancy. Fleur’s assurances aside, Luna misliked the idea of Fleur simply volunteering Fancy for such a thing. Granted, Fancy never seemed to mind being included, but it was the principle of the thing.

Fleur’s assurances were helping Luna sort through her own feelings about Fancy, at least. She did not have to have the same depth of feeling about Fancy as she did about Fleur, but so long as he agreed, she was comfortable claiming them both as her—

Not harem, not spouses, not marefriend and coltfriend... What shall I call them? I don’t wish to bind myself to the common vows... They’ve already pledged to one another, I need no such pledges to me... Not to mention if I ask it of them others might get the idea to pledge themselves unasked, and I do not wish to be worshiped as some sort of fertility goddess once again.

She shook her head, using the motion to nuzzle into Fleur’s mane, eliciting an appreciative murmur from her. 

There would be time to decide the title for what they would be to her later.

“What is in your head, ma petite?” Fleur asked as she settled into a proper cuddle.

Luna didn’t answer right away, choosing to wrap both wings around Fleur and draw her close instead. “Nothing of serious importance,” she said at length. “Unless you’d like to suggest a title you’d like.”

Fleur giggled from beneath Luna’s wing. “Is Queen taken?”

Luna laughed appreciatively. “The last pony in Equestria to bear that title died many centuries ago. It was not even called Equestria then. No, Fleur, important as you are to me, I cannot raise you up beyond myself.”

“Pity,” Fleur replied, not actually sounding very disappointed. “May I at least have some shiny gowns made to match yours?”

“If you wish,” Luna said judiciously. “I’ll have Rarity make you a complimentary wardrobe.”

“I would like to be shod as you are, is that permissible?”

“Oh?” Luna asked, and playfully retorted, “So you would not steal mine any longer?” A memory of a languid morning after a visit played in Luna’s mind, Fleur greeting her as she awoke by prancing about in Luna’s discarded ebon regalia.

Fleur pouted, replying: “I like yours. They are comfortable,” she sighed dramatically. “Fine, the dresses only.”

Luna began picturing the two of them together, side by side during some dreary Gala and laughing at the antics of the crowd. She blinked as she realized that the image was quite literally forming in the air in front of her.

“Hmmm. We make a pair together, do we not?” Fleur said as she followed Luna’s gaze with her own.

“We do,” Luna replied.

“I think... if you were to ask for me alone, I might consider for a very long time,” Fleur said as if she’d given the matter serious thought in the past. “I would lose all sleep, and feel no joy. It would destroy me; for though my heart is his, I adore you, ma petite.”

Luna’s mouth hung open, and she hurriedly added Fancy to the scene, dressed in complementary colors to their gowns. He kissed Fleur with a little smile. “I would never, ever wish you to leave him, Fleur!”

“I know,” Fleur said in a voice that sounded very self-satisfied. “I am glad for it, because my heart would feel ripped and torn. I feel doubly blessed to have two such ponies care for it.”

Luna reflected on Fleur’s words, and realized that though he was not as dear to her as Fleur was, there was one thing she could easily love about him, and that was that he kept Fleur happy. It was not a passionate feeling, raising no great heat in her like thoughts of Fleur did, but it was a start of a feeling beyond simple companionship. He’d been a friend, and a lover, but gazing at her imagined scene, it felt more complete. Fleur looked happier to have them both.

And in the end, what did she want but for the pony she loved to be happy?

From somewhere in the distance, she could hear Night Blossom’s voice call out. “Princess, there’s a very polite stallion at the door. Shall I see him in?”





“You don’t think you can just get away with this, do you?”

Midnight Oil took off his glasses, simultaneously polishing them and massaging the bridge of his nose in his magic. “I’m uncertain what exactly I’m meant to be getting away with, Mr. Press Pass.”

The aforementioned stallion gestured around his relatively posh surroundings as if it were a torture chamber. “This! All of this! You can’t just keep me here! I’m a well-known reporter! There are plenty of ponies who will start asking after me.”

Midnight replaced his glasses, and gave the reporter a long look.

He wasn’t much to look at, being a relatively short-statured unicorn with a white coat and mane of turquoise. He’d be totally unremarkable if not for the splotches of black around his hooves, making Midnight wonder if it was due to mottling in his coat or if it was actually stained with ink. His cutie mark was a pen clashing with a sword, which spoke volumes both about his possible mindset, as well as what Midnight could expect from this conversation. 

“You really have little to complain about,” Midnight replied. “By all rights, you should have been thrown into a place far less comfortable than this suite.”

“But I didn’t do anything wrong!” Press Pass insisted for the tenth time since Midnight had arrived.

“So you keep saying. Yet here we are, and here we’ll stay until we come to an understanding.” Midnight let a beat pass, then added, “Or rather, here you’ll stay. And to be frank, I personally don’t much like the idea of what might happen to you if we don’t.”

“You just can’t threaten me!” Press Pass sputtered indignantly.

“You misunderstand me,” Midnight replied, leaning forward slightly in a manner meant to convey the gravity of the situation. “I’m not threatening you. To be perfectly honest with you; I think all of this is blown way out of proportion. You were just trying to find a story. Doing your job. The problem lies in the way you went about it, and what you stumbled on to. Trust me when I say that I’d much rather you just forget about what you saw, and allow us to destroy any pictures you might have taken. You could be on your merry way in a matter of minutes. It is because you insist on being obstinate that we are in this situation. If you continue to be so, I will be obligated to have Princess Luna notified about what you were doing in an official capacity and... well...” He leaned back and sighed deeply. “I’m sure you’re aware she is rather more... forceful than Princess Celestia would be.”

Press Pass looked like he very much understood what Midnight was hinting at, his eyes shrinking down to pinpricks while his next words were more of a shriek than anything. “Every citizen has a right to a fair trial! I’m due a trial!” 

Midnight’s eyebrows rose, and he nodded judiciously. “Indeed you are. If you wish it, I could act as an arbitrator and sentence you right here, with your fine host Mr. Skies as my witness.” He nodded to Blue Skies, the equally unremarkable-looking pegasus with a cream colored coat and an orange mane. 

All of Celestia’s spies had that same uncanny trait of being able to blend into any crowd or environment they happened to be in, becoming nearly part of the landscape. Their other talents ranged all over the spectrum (Mr. Skies’ cutie mark being evidently related to birdsong) as nopony was born with the skill set necessary to be a talented spy, requiring vigorous training instead. Midnight imagined this one might involve the birds in his information gathering. It would make his message that a little bird had told him to watch out for a press pony snooping around the estate of Fancy Pants a tad more literal.

Press Pass smiled triumphantly, crowing “Good! Let’s do it, then!”

“Before you make such a bold request... Mr. Pass...” Midnight said quietly. “Perhaps you’d like to know what you’re being charged with first? Mr. Skies, if you would, please.”

“One count of crimes against the Land, which includes stalking of a vital government official. Multiple counts of Trespassing on private property. At least two counts of Espionage, and High Treason.” Blue Skies intoned flatly behind the reporter.

The presspony’s face fell as he repeated: “T-treason?!”

Midnight nodded. “As I said; a bit of an overreaction. The laws that deal with what one can and cannot do around Celestia and Luna’s personages are a lot harsher and more in-depth than you would believe, and have only gotten harsher due to recent events.”

“Treason...” Press Pass repeated, apparently not believing his own words.

“Suffice to say, your accommodations would get far, far worse, and you could be there a very long time. However, in all likelihood that might be preferable to what Princess Luna might deem a just punishment. She gets a little annoyed with bad press, as again, I’m sure you’re aware. And while I’ve thus far been able to convince her she can’t punish you and your peers for doing your jobs... spying on her can actually be considered a crime, and a severe crime at that.” Midnight stood, reaching over to pat Press Pass on the shoulder, from which the presspony flinched away as if the touch burned. “Well, we’ll give you another day to mull over your options. I’ll have dinner sent along for you and Mr. Skies.” 

He left the room without waiting for a reply, though the stunned silence was certainly enough for Midnight to know further discussion was not going to be forthcoming. He nodded to the guards as he closed the door, instructing them to send a request for two dinners, and after a moment’s consideration, two more for the guards. 

His escorts fell into step behind him without needing a word of instruction. He had grown somewhat used to their shadowing, though their necessity was still questionable to him. As much as he was supposed to be Celestia’s Voice in her absence, he was still but a dedicated civil servant, and hardly warranted the sort of security he was being given. Trying to argue the point was futile, however. The upper echelons of the guard would not hear of not posting at least a small detail to him at all times, reasoning that with Celestia recovering and Luna having an annoying tendency to refuse guards when she was going out, he was the primary target for any hostiles.

It just further demonstrated how very dependent they were as a society on the presences of the Princesses. They were both the reason why Equestrian society was as it was and the glaring weak point in the entire structure. Which was the reasoning behind such harsh punishment for doing what the poor Mr. Press Pass had done. Any other famous pony would have been fair game, and quite the story for him. But to stalk one of the linchpins of society more or less was declaring yourself an enemy of the land, on a level with the changelings or Discord.

His own appointment had been a fine temporary solution, but there were simply no measures in place for what happened when one or both of them disappeared. The lower courts were a start, but—

“Your Excellency, we’ve arrived at your quarters.”

Midnight winced as he heard the title. It was another odd fact of his life now, and his repeated attempts to get the guard to use his name had failed, at least while they were on duty. After being relieved he had shared a drink or two with his guards and found them quite amiable, but before then it was all discipline and stoicism. 

He nodded, opening the door and stepping inside. “Well then, good night. Make sure to get word to me when the Princess returns.”

They turned away, facing outward from the door in their normal guarding positions. It made his feet hurt to just imagine standing at attention for hours on end.

His magic was fetching the bottle of willow bark pills even as he entered his office, a glass of water floating along behind it. Confronting Press Pass had been stressful, but he believed his point had been delivered and that hopefully the presspony would see reason rather than draw matters out. He cast a yearning look at the bedroom that adjoined his office, then resolutely sat down at his desk. There were reports to look over, a treaty proposal sent by Chineigh, and projected cost analyses of trade goods from that region for the coming year, all of which needed reviewing before the coming morning.

No rest for the weary, he thought as he picked up the first of many documents.





Pinkie Pie’s eyes opened to see an alligator clamped onto her forelock. She smiled, blinking in the early morning sunlight as she picked him up in both hooves and hugged him tightly to her chest. “Good morning, Gummy!”

Gummy responded by slowly releasing his lockjaw hold on her mane and looking into her eyes. He opened his mouth once more, snapping it shut on the open air a hair’s breadth away from her nose.

“Hungry, huh? Me too. Let’s get something to eat.” Pinkie said as she got up, briefly twirling him around in a little dance before setting him back down.

The morning was promising to be a good one already. She only had to cover the morning shift for the Cakes today, which left her afternoon and evening free to spend with Twilight and Celly. She looked at the calendar and was just a little sad that today normally would have been the Pet Play Date with the girls, and hoped Fluttershy and Rarity were still having fun in Prance. Dashie and Applejack were supposed to come back from Las Pegasus in a few days, at least. That would be good.

It always made her just a little anxious when they were separated, which was why Pinkie so readily understood Twilight mentioning it, even if she suspected at the time it wasn’t all she was worried about.

When one of them was gone, it made her worry that someday, maybe it would just be for good. Rarity and Dashie both had big dreams that would take them far away, and maybe they would choose to stay nearer to those dreams when they came true. She thought maybe Fluttershy and Applejack might make them want to stay, but with that came worries that her friends might be unhappy because they were tied down to their little town. 

Pinkie could definitely understand wanting to visit big places and meet new ponies, but from the moment she’d arrived at Ponyville it had felt more like home than home ever had. Making friends with every pony in town had been her big dream, and it had seemed plenty big after only ever knowing her family.

She’d, of course, thought about the even bigger dream of befriending a whole great big city like Canterlot or Manehatten, but it was a task that daunted even her. Just keeping track of all the birthdays would strain the limits of her filing system. 

A snapping toothless maw clamping on her tail brought her back to the moment and away from thoughts about a Partyputer, although she tucked the idea away as something to talk to Twilight about. She knew the thing in Twilight’s basement was big and clunky but Twilight had said it kept track of all kinds of things and the punch cards seemed like they might take up less space than the big folders she’d made for everypony she’d ever met.

She poured Gummy a big bowl of food, then poured herself a bigger bowl of cereal. While she ate, she looked at the calendar again. A few days from the Play Date was a very special day. It didn’t look like much next to all the other days on the calendar. Usually Thursdays aren’t special for much except being the start of the second half of the week and for not quite being Friday. But this one marked a sort of anniversary, except it hadn’t been a year, or even a half-year. It was more of a Quarterversary, really. 

Maybe it wasn’t much to some ponies, but three months seemed like a long time to Pinkie. That was how long it had been since their Breakup/Makeup; the day she’d decided to break Twilight’s heart so she could try to catch it in her hooves again.

Pinkie smiled a smile other ponies never usually saw. It wasn’t a smile you wore around town to greet your neighbors with. It was a little sad, but also hopeful. It hadn’t existed until the day she’d gotten on a great big noisy train headed to a town very far from her family’s home. She’d made it up just after she’d lost sight of her family.

She didn’t use it often, since she preferred the brighter happier ones to wear for others. This smile was just for her, and maybe one or two ponies she trusted to see it. And Gummy, of course, but Gummy never minded what smile she wore. He could see through any of them.

Being one of her oldest smiles, it wasn’t numbered. It was a smile for going away from something you loved while going towards something that excited you. She didn’t encounter that specific situation very often, but it fit here. She had loved the casual closeness and fun she and Twilight had shared at first, but rejected it in favor of wanting Twilight’s heart instead. And it had proved itself to be a slippery, skittish thing. 

Twilight’s heart had been scared. It hid, and ran when it saw trouble. It was a heart that had been hurt before, and didn’t want to ever hurt again. Trying to chase it had lead Pinkie to some exciting places. But she was pretty sure she had it calmed down a little, now. Enough that maybe... maybe Twi would show it to her.

The Quarterversary was when it was maybe going to happen, finally. The prospect made Pinkie herself feel nervous and skittish and excited and all sorts of things. It was when Twi had said she wanted to have their third date after the Breakup/Makeup.

Gummy crawled up into the circle made by her arms as she ate, and she hugged him close to her chest with a little squeal. “It’s going to be so nice! Right, Gummy?”

Gummy offered no opinion on whether it would be nice or not. He opened his mouth slowly, blinking first his left eye, then his right. 

“Yeah! It’ll all be okay! I’m a silly Pinkie after all!”

His right eye rolled around before centering on her again. 

“Oh, right! Breakfast!”
> Chapter 7: Experiences Should Be Shared
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Astra paced back and forth in Celestia’s Library. Which wasn’t to say that she was walking, precisely. As a mental construct, she had no real form unless given one, as she had been in Celestia’s dream. With no true form, she didn’t need to walk, or run, but she still envisioned herself doing such things. It was part of being what she was; a reflection of Celestia herself. 

The Library was another visualization of a purely non-visual experience of being in Celestia’s mind. It was not an infinite space, but would seem so if somepony were to observe it as Astra did. Rows upon rows of shelves stretched out in directions that would twist the brain if looked upon by mortal eyes. Books opened and closed themselves as she glanced at them, disclosing memories as it occurred to Astra to think of them. She did this in hopes that she could find anything that could help, while taking the occasional peek into what Celestia was seeing, but mostly she was just listening to what she was hearing.

Most of what she was seeing and hearing was mundane and therefore boring, which was why Astra was spending most of her time researching the vast memories stored herein.

As fascinating as it was to watch Celestia scheme with Twilight, Astra had access to hundreds of thousands of memories in which Celestia turned her meticulous mind to a problem, and hundreds more of her specifically planning meetings between members of her staff because she thought they might hit it off.

If Princess Cadence had not come along, Astra suspected Celestia would even to this day be planning future generations of clerks, maids and guard ponies. It was a little baffling, because there didn’t seem to be any intent of encouraging breeding for strength, or for talents, or even for simple subservience. Celestia paired up those who seemed like they would make each other happiest.

The only way in which it made sense to Astra was to reason that happy ponies did tend to perform better, but it was the sort of logic that would give her a headache if she’d had a head that could do so. Whatever the reasoning was, Celestia seemed to derive great satisfaction from every successful match.

Or rather, she had, before her niece had come along. Not because it no longer gave her joy, but because she felt she could no more intrude on matchmaking than Cadence would attempt to raise the sun.

“I can understand the flowers,” Twilight said, catching Astra’s attention. “And I suppose I agree that a ‘greasy spoon’ might be better for Pinkie while still allowing for me to find a dish or two I can eat, but the hotel—”

“Would serve to make both of you horribly uncomfortable.” Celestia cut in. “You’ll want a nice, familiar environment. It will make intimacy easier. Need I remind you of what happened when you tried to perform a magic show for the guards?”

Twilight’s face flushed as she looked away. “That wasn’t an intimate situation at all.” 

“But it was you taking yourself out of your comfort zone because you felt you had to, with all of the consequences that came with it.” Celestia continued without pause.

“I did learn a lot from it though!” Twilight countered stubbornly, no longer trying to relate her experience from back then to their plans in the present.

“Indeed,” Celestia paused to conjure a tome of pony psychology from the shelves of the library and opened on a seemingly random page. It wasn’t, however, rather it was a page that focused on stress as it related to unfamiliar situations and how it might affect a pony. Astra was flabbergasted at the idea that her counterpart could remember such little details with such alacrity. “The reason I didn’t stop you was because I knew the experience would be valuable. Though you seem to have forgotten one of the most important ones, namely: Don’t put yourself into a more difficult situation than you need to if you want to succeed at something important.”

Astra rolled her metaphorical eyes and shook her nonexistent head. As much as Twilight had been an apt pupil for many subjects, social interactions had always been a bit of a blind spot. Which was sad, because Celestia had nearly as much practical knowledge about helping other ponies into romances as she did about magic and running a government. Which wasn’t to say she was an expert in any of those things, but after several lifetimes it was easy enough to accumulate the experience to convincingly imitate being one.

Celestia had many fond memories of passing along her experience to the young Princess Cadence. Where Twilight listened with rapt attention and hunger for knowledge when the discussion was about sciences, Cadence’s passions had been diplomacy, poise, tact, and other social skills. Skills that would greatly aid Twilight if she could just be made to understand them.

Unfortunately, like friendship itself, it seemed some lessons Twilight would have to learn through experience, which could only be gained by failure.

This fact was putting a damper on Celestia’s mood, though she was hiding it outwardly. Not only could Astra tell that for every word Celestia spoke, there were ten she did not, it also tinted the entire head-space that Astra occupied a light shade of blue. The main problem was that she was trying to avoid giving Twilight the answers directly, instead leading her away from the answers that were ‘less right for them’. Which Astra understood to mean ‘end in disaster’ and possibly with Twilight upending one of the world’s fundamental laws in some way or another.

The whole process seemed tedious and unnecessary. It made Astra wish they could simply summon their niece back from the Crystal Empire to talk some sense into Twilight. 

The Empire had vanished for over one thousand years before coming back inexplicably, but it could surely wait a few more days while her niece left it to solve a crisis of love for a family member. Whether that family member was Twilight or Celestia was debatable, as Celestia having adopted Cadence unofficially certainly made her feel like family, making the moniker of ‘niece’ feel as real to her as ‘nephew’ was for Blue.

“It would be so much easier with her here,” Astra said, regretfully. Celestia’s memories were clear on that point. While in the beginning she had passed along all she knew to her niece, it hadn’t taken very long before the student excelled past what could be taught. Being a social talent, Cadence had eventually even taught Celestia herself a lesson or two in passing.

Thousands of years of learning from one’s own mistakes were still no match for natural talent. Celestia had encountered the same many times over. While to many she was a master of several arts, a true Talent had a sort of genius that picked up on topics related to that talent with frightening quickness. 

Celestia’s knowledge of magic had come from her own humble experimentation for the most part, as well as small bits and pieces gathered from the great wizards she had known over the centuries. Given such a breadth and depth of magical knowhow, she had fancied herself quite talented, until a little filly who hadn’t even gotten her cutie mark yet had quite literally blown up most every rule she had held true about magic, and had proceeded to devour every lesson since.

Likewise, Celestia had painstakingly learned the social mores and means of high society and low, making many a faux pas along the way. Being a princess did not automatically make one knowledgeable about etiquette, and living with Luna in their castle in which they rarely took supplicants hadn’t helped. But she’d had to learn after becoming the sole ruler in a government intended for two. She had outlasted almost all such scandals by merely physically outliving the ponies that were aware of them. And of course, being the one who made decisions about how history was written helped. 

She had earned the nation’s love and respect through generations upon generations of fair and just rule, and many today would swear she was without flaw. Her niece Cadence, by contrast, had been beloved within a matter of months after Celestia had brought her to the capital, drawing huge crowds upon her coronation, and more still for her wedding. Prior to that she’d been the darling of her school, breezing through any and all social situations like she had been born for them; and knowing what little Celestia knew about fate, she probably had been.

And that was the crux of the issue. Celestia sometimes wished for the sort of insight that came so naturally to those two and others besides. Which wasn’t to say raising the sun wasn’t important, but at times, when she felt uncertain of what action to take and had to somehow convince everypony around her that she had matters well in hoof, she envied the Talented, just a little.

Astra sighed, then held her ‘head’ up high. It was pointless to dwell overlong on it. Besides which, much like Celestia did not wish to take Twilight’s potential sense of achievement away, Astra wanted to have the satisfaction of knowing that she herself had helped change Celestia’s fate. Having her niece there to pick up all the pieces and solve all the problems would feel like cheating after the trouble Astra had gone to. And, indeed, after all the trouble Celestia herself was going to. Celestia needed Twilight to succeed, and Astra needed Celestia to succeed.

And so, she grit her nonexistent teeth, and did her best to follow along with Twilight and Celestia’s conversation, even if it was a bit dull.





Celestia swayed on her seat, opening her mouth to let out a huge yawn. She’d been correct to assume she wasn’t going to getting any sleep any time soon. She took a moment to be thankful for the physiology that allowed her to maintain alertness regardless of fatigue, then yawned again. It didn’t stop her from feeling tired, it just helped her to keep going anyway. A day or two was fine, a week or more started to affect her mental state. More than that and she was potentially a danger to herself and others. Others, more so than herself, naturally.

There were still some very odd laws regarding the maximum height of hats as a remnant of a time when she did not sleep for over a year at a stretch. Historians thankfully glossed over that time in their chronicles, but looking back she could scarcely believe it. She suspected those selfsame historians had assumed the ones that had come before them were having a laugh at the future’s expense. It was a very good thing that Celestia herself was the one who decided whether to enforce a law, because Rarity was technically considered a criminal for multiple counts of breaking the laws of fashion.

Twilight was looking over the chalkboard with a deep frown. The formerly pristine board was now covered in chalk dust so thick that new markings were difficult to tell from the old. Options for restaurants were numbered in lists on one side while various cuisines offered at each were listed below. In a small corner was a list of flowers that Pinkie might enjoy, and while Celestia was very much of the opinion that Pinkie would not mind, Twilight’s intentions were paramount. She, as Celestia before her, had immediately protested that pink roses signified friendship. And while friendship was certainly part of their relationship, it most definitely wasn’t where Twilight wanted it to stay. 

‘It has to be perfect!’ Twilight had turned it into a litany, nearly a chant. While her previous plans had been based on statistics which had the highest likelihood of success with the average pony, they were now based on what would have the most importance to Twilight and Pinkie. This was not aided by the fact that, while Twilight had great affection for Pinkie, her understanding of the mare was limited at best (which was still more than most ponies had). Celestia had been bashing her head against a metaphorical wall trying to explain that Pinkie was remarkably simple in her tastes and rather easy to please. These assertions had only lead Twilight to become even more determined to understand what little she did know about Pinkie, in hopes of gaining some insight into the proper date path.

“Twilight..” Celestia began again. “It’s really not as bad as you are making it out in your head. There really is no such thing as a perfect date to begin with, and Pinkie wouldn’t want one if there was. She just wants to be with you.”

“But she’s been waiting for—” Twilight cut herself off, blushing.

“You can say it. There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Celestia said quietly. “Least of all with me.”

“I... I know. It’s just...” Twilight took a deep breath and tried again. “Right. She’s been waiting to... reconnect. To be... intimate. With... me.”

“Exactly. So long as you allow her that, she won’t mind what comes before. The date is a formality, a prelude.” Celestia smiled coyly, giving Twilight a wink. “An appetizer, you could say.”

“But... shouldn’t it be as good as it can be?” Twilight said, still looking distressed. “You said my original plan was bad—”

“I never said bad, I said it wasn’t very personally tailored to you or her,” Celestia said, interrupting before Twilight could progress much further down that line of thought. “And as dates go, it was quite nice regardless. I would have loved it, myself.”

Twilight didn’t say anything more for a time, her brow furrowed, apparently deep in thought.

You really should just let her fail, you know, Astra said, startling Celestia. She had been silent for some time, almost making Celestia forget she existed. 

“No, I don’t know. That’s what I’d like to avoid happening, actually,” Celestia responded in an undertone.

I think it’s your only option, now.

“Celestia?” Twilight asked, looking at her curiously.

“Just a moment, Twilight,” Celestia said, holding up a hoof. “I need to talk to...” she hesitated. Twilight knew about Astra, but it still felt so very odd speaking of her to other ponies. “Myself,” she finished, feeling very foolish. “Actually, I think I may go get some sleep while I’m at it.” She grabbed a piece of chalk in her magic and used it to underline a few of her favorite options. “I think she’d adore carnations, just as my personal suggestion.” She opened her mouth to add more, then yawned loudly. “Right, sleep.” 

“Okay... sleep well, Princess.”

“All right. Now, why would you say my only option is to let her fail?” she asked to the open air as she turned away from Twilight and began walking back upstairs.

You’ve been watching her for hours trying to explain why what she’s doing is not ideal. You don’t want to just tell her what to do, and she isn’t going to understand without experiencing it for herself.

“And did you think I’m not aware of that?”

A palpable silence followed. Celestia reflected that it was an experience that was likely fairly unique to her and truly mad ponies, when one shocks the voice in one’s head into silence.

If you know already, why are you wasting time like this? Astra demanded eventually.

“None of this is a waste at all,” Celestia replied in what was barely even a whisper. Glancing back at Twilight, she cast a very small sound bubble over her own head just in case her voice had any chance of carrying as she made her way upstairs. “Every decision she makes gives me a greater insight into her general state of mind. Unfortunately, she’s become too fixated to see things clearly. It’s fine, she’s going to make some mistakes. My own was thinking I could just teach her what she needed in this case. But Twilight is a scientist at heart, and that, unfortunately, requires trial and error.”

But wasn’t your plan to help her come up with some sort of idealized date? To get her to reach that perfection she wants?

Celestia laughed lightly. “There is no such thing. Even if she did plan out every last detail, there are always things you can’t account for. The wait staff having a bad day. You picked a crowded restaurant and everypony is on edge. Someone drops an entree and another pony slips and breaks a limb! No, I just want her to come up with the best plan she can. Then, once I see it in motion, I’ll do my best to account for the factors that, if I do well, she’ll never know about.”

If you do well?

“Yes, I’m going to be there, shadowing along. I’ll be their guardian angel,” Celestia said, smiling wryly. “Well, not me, but Aurora.” 

But their date is going to be in Canterlot. Are you that confident in your disguise?

“Yes, with a few adjustments,” Celestia said simply. “Although there is one aspect I’ll require help with. I’m going to need access to resources that I normally would give to one of my personal assistants.”

How do you plan to do that while still not being yourself?

“That part is easy. I’m going to ask my sister to give Aurora a job. I imagine the interview will be interesting.”





“Hello? Sorry to intrude, but I seem to be a bit lost?” a deep, cultured voice said from somewhere in the garden.

Luna smiled, lifted her head up, and called out: “Come this way, Sir Pants.”

A few moments later found him strolling around the corner with a look of bemusement. He smiled as he saw them, and quickly joined them on the bench, taking a place by Fleur’s side. “Terribly sorry. There was a nice young mare who let me in just now, but she appeared to have business elsewhere,” he scratched his head, looking a little abashed as he admitted: “Which is to say, she up vanished before my very eyes. Honestly, I’m not entirely sure what’s going on but I’m willing to venture we’re not at the Briarpatch Estate. They don’t have the room for an outdoor garden.”

He paused, then added: “I am also entirely certain I was on the third floor before I came in here.”

Luna nodded judiciously. “Welcome to my realm, Sir Pants. And welcome also to my personal Garden.”

His eyebrows rose as he looked around with renewed interest. “Your realm, you say. I get the feeling you mean that in a sense beyond this being in Equestria as a whole.” He squinted a bit for a moment before shying back in surprise as what appeared to be a snifter of whiskey floated in midair in front of him with no visible means of support, magical or otherwise. He took it in his magic, tilting the glass into his open mouth and sipping at it. “Convenient, that. So a dream then. That does make more sense than being at a celebration I had no recollection of being invited to. Or doors appearing out of nowhere.”

Fleur had been watching Fancy’s antics with evident amusement, but the mention of a door seemed to especially interest her. “Did it have a crescent, Mon Coeur?”

“It did,” Fancy replied. “I found it odd that there was a second door where they said the bathroom would be. But the first one was locked and the second one was... here.”

Luna listened to the exchange for a time, simply feeling happy to have them both near, then blushed as she realized the implication of his words. “Fancy... did you need... that is, are you currently in need of a facility—” 

Fancy chuckled. “No, not that sort of call. I simply needed to take something for a headache that thankfully seems to have cleared up after having left that particular party. Besides which, I’ve heard if you attempt to relieve yourself while dreaming you’ll only wake needing to clean your linens and quite possibly purchase a new mattress. So, even if I did require such, it would be best to wait.”

Luna breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, be welcome, then.”

“I’m honored,” Fancy said, giving a little bow from his sitting position on the bench. “Though I wonder if I’ll recall any of this. I don’t tend to recall dreams.”

“Lucid dreams are special,” Luna replied. She swept an ebon-clad hoof around in a grandiose gesture. “And dreams touched by my hoof are more special still. You will remember, Sir Pants.”

Fleur looked at Luna with a little frown. “Are you not going to tell him where we are, ma petite?”

“I... I was getting to that.” Luna said, a blush burning on her cheeks. “Sir Pants...” she trailed off, shaking her head. “No, Fancy. It should be Fancy. Sir Pants is... too formal, and... we’ve been very informal together...”

Fancy Pants looked at Luna curiously as she attempted to collect herself. After a moment, he adopted a more relaxed and receptive posture, summoning a prelit pipe from the ether and puffing on it. “We have, Princess. But please, don’t concern yourself about such matters.”

Luna shook her head more violently, sending waves throughout the swirling mass of stars that existed in her mane. “I must, Fancy! I... I must learn to treat the hearts of ponies I care about with more respect, and I must start with yours... I...” she trailed off with a frown. “This was so much easier before,” she muttered. 

“It’s because these are new feelings, Princess.” Night Blossom said from behind her. She lay her head over Luna’s right shoulder, nuzzling her. “New feelings are unsure, hard to define. Feelings for her were much more certain, you just did not wish to feel them.”

“Oh!” Luna exclaimed in surprise. “You’re back!”

“I never left, Princess.”

Luna turned back to Fleur and Fancy, gesturing behind herself. “Fancy, meet—” she frowned, puzzled by what she saw. Her friends were there on the bench, but seemed unnaturally still, as if—

“Time is fluid here, Princess, but theirs is frozen,” Night Blossom said as she walked casually around the bench to sit down in front of Luna. “We’ll thaw them soon, but it seemed you needed a moment to collect your thoughts.”

“I see...” Luna replied. She waved a hoof in front of Fleur, turning away when there was no response. “How did you—”

“I am a part of your magic. My entire existence is within dreams, and I’ve learned some small things in the long years since Blossom passed.”

Luna looked at Blossom appraisingly. She had wondered when the mare had pulled her disappearing trick earlier, as it had reminded her of her own mist form. But time manipulation was a feat that even Luna had not been aware of as being in her power. “You’ll have to show me how that’s done.”

“I’ll attempt to, Princess, though I’m uncertain how I do it, myself.”

“I’m not certain either,” Luna admitted. “I’m not certain of anything, right now,” she gestured to her two friends. “Should I not feel the same for both? Is that fair?” Luna pressed, frowning down at the stone path. “It seems unfair.”

“There is an old saying about love and fairness,” Blossom replied quietly. “The pony I was did not find love fair, until one day her life changed when it seemed it might end instead. From that day until the day she finally breathed her last, she found love to be solidly in her favor despite all odds. Was that fair? I cannot say. Blossom considered her earlier troubles the price she paid for the eventual reward.”

Luna smiled despite herself. “Blossom was a silly mare.”

“She would agree wholeheartedly, Princess.”

“Still,” Luna continued after a moment. “Fancy is anything but silly. And... I have put him through hardship in my little dances with his wife. He’s never been anything but kind to me, despite it all.”

“Deserving of praise, to be sure,” Blossom said solemnly. “Love is another matter. It’s not something you gift to another pony, it simply is or is not.”

Luna considered Blossom’s words for a time. “I think... it is there, but I worry, will it be enough?”

Blossom smiled, and gestured to the garden around them. “You’ve but planted a seed, Princess. What will come from it, I do not know, but it’s here, which should tell you something already.”

Luna tittered into a hoof. “So, this is what it’s like to be on the other end of somepony being needlessly cryptic.”

Blossom laughed along with her, saying: “Not needlessly. I’ve seen you guide others within their dreams. At times, when necessary, you are direct. At others, you try to lead them to their own answer. I believe you know how you truly feel about Fancy. But you wish for it to be otherwise. Be not afraid. Let the feelings find their own path.”

Luna closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. “Right. Simple, then.” She opened her eyes, looking back at Fancy and Fleur. “So, do we have to do something in particular to...”

Her words trailed off as both Fancy and Fleur gave her a confused look, though in Fleur’s case it was more amused than bemused. “Oh, this must look odd.” she said after a moment.

“Well, this is a dream, so I expect some oddity, but I admit I am curious who you are talking to.” Fancy replied.

“I was talking to—” Luna looked behind her, her mouth screwing up in annoyance as she saw open air. “Night Blossom! Your Princess requires your attendance at once!”

The aforementioned appeared from the shadows with the same grin one might see on the manticore after it had devoured its meal and was just settling down for a nap. “At once, Princess.”

Luna gestured to Night Blossom saying: “Fancy, meet the shade of my former lover from many centuries ago.”

“Well, I never stopped loving her, but Blossom did pass on, so half-true,” Blossom said. She gave a little bow in Fancy’s direction. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sir Fancy Pants.”

“Entirely mine, to be sure,” Fancy replied. He stood, walking up to her, and lifted one of her forehooves with his own, kissing it lightly.

“So polite...” Blossom said, pulling her hoof back only once he’d broken contact. “Less like a Knight and more like a scholar.”

“The title is hereditary,” Fancy replied. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t know what to do with my family’s old suits of armor besides have them dusted and polished.”

“Nobles in this day and age are quite different,” Luna said. “Ponies are not warlike by nature, and centuries of peace have bred most martial talents out.”

“I can see why you took to him,” Blossom said, looking Fancy up and down.

“As I can see why she took to you, madam,” Fancy replied. “I must admit, this is a novel experience. I’ve heard of spirits haunting the material plane but had always supposed it to be so much hogwash.”

“I could not say, as my existence is quite singular,” Blossom said with a little twinkle in her eye. “I’m not sure I could be said to be haunting, exactly. The pony I was left the world quite peacefully, in the arms of her beloved. I am merely an echo left behind. A hoofprint in the dust, so to speak. But I imagine Blossom would have been flattered by your praise, while secretly being insanely jealous that her Princess favored you,” she paused, smiling apologetically. “Night Blossom was very possessive of her Princess.”

Fleur sidled up next to Night Blossom and ran a hoof down her mane. “She was a fiery one, wasn’t she, ma petite?” Looking back at Luna, she added; “Did that extend to more private rendezvous?”

“Blossom was very agg—” Night Blossom began to respond before having her muzzle forcibly closed by Luna’s magic.

“I would rather not discuss such things,” Luna said, hastily. “That is, that’s not why we are here.”

Fleur frowned, but nodded after sharing a long glance with Luna. “Very well, ma petite, but I will ask again some night.”

“I will consider myself forewarned, Fleur,” Luna replied with a roll of her eyes. 

“Blossom,” she said, turning back to her. “I believe I will be fine—” She blinked, frowning as she found herself addressing empty air, and silently cursed Blossom’s capriciousness, resolving to give her a good talking to some evening.

She took a moment to collect herself before shifting her gaze back to Fancy Pants. “Now... Fancy... I...” she trailed off, blushing furiously.

“Are you attempting to ask me to join your harem?” Fancy said after several moments of awkward silence.

“Yes!” Luna said excitedly, meeting his gaze once more with a burning intensity. “I mean no! Not a harem! Fleur, don’t get any more ideas!”

“It is too late, I am already deciding which of my friends you will meet first.” Fleur replied archly, fluttering her eyelashes. “Would you like to see them one at a time or in groups?”

Fancy’s mouth quirked up into a little half-smile. “Introduce her to Silk Stockings, they would get along famously.”

“No harems,” Luna said firmly to Fleur. Turning back to Fancy, she added: “I merely wish to formally acknowledge you, that is, both of you, if... that’s agreeable...” she finished meekly. She stared down at the stone pathway, unable to say the words while meeting his gaze. “I don’t wish to embarrass you, Fancy... But I... that is, you’re both...”

She stopped as Fancy laid a hoof on her shoulder. Looking up, she saw him smiling down at her. “Luna, if that’s your wish, I’d be proud to be acknowledged by you.”

“But... you said it would ruin your reputation,” Luna protested in a sullen voice. “It would make the others think you’re just using your connections—” 

“Not ruin, just make things difficult in certain circles... and It’s true, some will talk,” Fancy admitted. “But it won’t be the first or last time I’ve been the focus of something scandalous.” He looked back at Fleur, who gave him a firm, empathetic nod. “If both of you want this, I’m more than happy to go along with it. Honestly, it doesn’t really change much, it will just make it a bit easier for Fleur to pester you.”

“And perhaps we sojourn in your bed when next we meet, non?” Fleur said, blowing Luna a kiss. 

Luna nodded, and motioned for Fleur to come closer so she could embrace them both in her wings. Fancy looked startled for a moment, but allowed himself to be drawn in.

“Thank you, my friends, my dearest ones,” Luna said quietly.

After a fond embrace, Luna sent them both to their respective dreams, leaving only herself on the stone path. “You will want for nothing in your lives,” she intoned quietly. “ I will be your shield and your succor, for as long as both of you live.”

Down the path from her, a pair of luminous eyes watched her, resolving themselves into Night Blossom as she stepped forth from the shadow. She said nothing, only smiling and mouthing the words: “I love you, Princess.”





It had been a long day for Pinkie Pie.

Which wasn’t to say it was a bad day, just that it had seemed to take its time passing. Time was supposed to fly when you were having fun, but sometimes even when you were trying your hardest to have fun, time just stubbornly stayed on the ground and glared at you no matter how many bread crumbs you threw its way. 

Time was kind of a party pooper like that.

So, while refusing to fly, Pinkie had at least gotten it to pass by at a walking speed instead of a dragging crawl like some days. Those were the days when she couldn’t manage much happy for herself and had to spread what she had around to others in hopes of getting some back. 

She’d been having less of those since Celly had come to visit and stayed put until she got better again. It was nice having her there at the library. Pinkie wasn’t quite sure how she was going to react when one day Celly had to go back and be Princess Celestia, but she tried not to think about it too much. It did worry her just a little, though.

She knew sometimes her friends had to be away. Rainbow would have to leave for Wonderbolt tryouts, Rarity would need to go to fashion shows, even Fluttershy would leave on occasion to defend her championship in ‘Shhhh.’ But her friends lived here, and always came back.

Celly lived in Canterlot, and even if she was here now, and could visit later, it didn’t change the fact that one day she’d just be gone and would have to do Princess Celestia things and she wouldn’t be there to try out a new recipe or talk about how cute the Cake twins were.

Thinking about it too much made it so time laid down and stuck its tongue out at Pinkie. 

But that was a worry for Future Pinkie. The Present Pinkie (not to be confused with Pinkie’s Presents) was going to go see Twilight and Celly both as soon as the day finished going by. She felt a little sorry for Future Pinkie, but there was always hope for her. Hope was a good thing. It was basically happiness you wished on yourself and others in the future.

“I need some more carrot cakes, Pinkie!” Mr. Cake called out to her from the cash register. 

“Coming right up!” Pinkie singsonged back. Luckily, she already had those baking, and only needed some time for them to cool so she could frost them. She took out the cake pans, letting the rich carroty smell out of the over in a waft.

Time did finally pass after taking its sweet time while Pinkie made sweets. First breakfast time, then lunch, and finally it was time for Mrs. Cake to relieve Pinkie. She then spent a little bit of time with the twins before collecting a few things to take with her to Twilight’s library; a couple loaves of bread, a dozen doughnuts, a half dozen cupcakes, and something undefinable she’d made by mistake while she’d been distracted. She hadn’t figured out a name for it yet, because she wasn’t quite sure what had gone into it besides a lot of flour and sugar and a few eggs. It looked and smelled interesting, at least. She saw a few things that might have been chocolate chips, or raisins, or both.

She decided to name it the Experience, and wrapped it up to take with her. Experiences needed to be shared with ponies you loved.

“Bye, Mrs. Cake!” she said as she dashed out of the kitchen.

“Oh, goodbye!” Mrs. Cake replied to Pinkie’s rapidly moving form.

Pinkie hummed happily to herself, moving at a brisk gallop and watching time fly alongside her as if it had been waiting for her all day. She smiled at it, then turned her attention back to the library a short distance away. 

It was rapidly approaching, or that’s the way it looked to Pinkie. 

Things tended to approach her fast a lot. Friends, treats, Gummy, the world just liked to zoom up and say ‘hi’.

“Hello!” she called out into the library as she entered. She frowned after a moment, not hearing a reply, but after a moment or two she slapped the smile back on her face and went to the kitchen to deposit her snacks. If Celly and Twi weren’t where she expected them to be, it just meant she had to spend a little time finding them.

Time, like money, liked to be spent. Especially on the ponies you loved.

A search of the kitchen proved fruitless; Twilight needed to restock on fruits, especially apples. It was not saladless, however, as one was waiting in the fridge presumably to have for lunch later. Pinkie put the Experience next to the salad, unsure if it was the sort of thing that should be served chilled. That was the trouble with unidentifiable food. You couldn’t be sure how it was meant to be stored. She supposed they’d need to eat it quickly lest such problems continue to compound.

She’d already checked the library, so she reasoned the next most likely place was the bedroom. That’s where half of her mystery was solved, as she found a Celestia-shaped object under a pile of blankets. Lifting one end of the blankets revealed a mostly pink tail, with streaks of other faded colors. The other end was where she found a very tired-looking Celly sleeping soundly enough to not even notice the broad daylight all around her.

Pinkie frowned for a moment, feeling just a little bit put out that she wouldn’t get to share the Experience with Celly, but after a moment of consideration she decided that the Experience could just stay on ice where it was until later, when she could share it with both Twi-twi and Celly. She wasn’t even sure if it was any good, but she wanted to find out with both of them.

Besides, she had lots of other things she could share with Twilight while they waited for Celly to finish her nap.

She carefully lowered the blanket onto Celly’s head, tucking it around her muzzle and covering only Celly’s eyes while leaving her free to breathe. On a whim, she kissed the tip of Celly’s nose, then carefully left the room. 

She still had a Twilight to find, but that would prove both easier and more difficult. If Twilight wasn’t in the library, the kitchen, or the bedroom, that only left the lab, which Pinkie was supposed to stay out of unless Twi invited her down into it. She could still call down into it, though. It just required opening the door, which she also wasn’t supposed to do but was less bad than intruding in the lab. 

“Twilight!” she called down into the dimly lit stairway. 

“Pinkie?” Twilight’s voice replied. 

Pinkie smiled, pleased that she’d at least found one pony awake. “I’m back from work, and I brought snacks!”

“I know,” Twilight said from behind her. “Thank you. I kinda forgot to eat since...” A few seconds went by before Twilight admitted: “I think since yesterday's dinner.”

Pinkie spun around with a gasp of barely suppressed glee. “Twilight!”

Twilight yawned, and flashed Pinkie a smile after she finished. “Welcome home.”

There was no suppressing anything after that, least of all Pinkie’s charge and the hug-tackle that followed. Though Twilight did brace herself to avoid being bowled over entirely by making her hooves stick to the floor. Even so, Pinkie heard the floorboards creak as they impacted. Afterwards, she was busy showering Twilight’s head and neck with little kisses and not really paying attention to the protests of Twilight or the building they were in.

After she was satisfied that every square inch of Twilight’s face had been thoroughly kissed, Pinkie pulled back from Twilight and just looked at her for a long moment. Twilight looked tired. Not in that ‘I just climbed a mountain to tell off a dragon’ kind of way or ‘I just made my way out from a huge cavern to tell off a changeling invasion’ kind of way, but tired nonetheless. But... she didn’t look unhappy. And for the first time in days—

“The crinkles are gone!” Pinkie said with a gasp.

Twilight tilted her head slightly to the left, favoring Pinkie with a confused but not irritated look. “Uh, what?”

Pinkie looked again to be sure. Under Twilight’s eyes, shadows hung deep and heavy. But the edges of Twilight’s eyes, by contrast, were relaxed, whereas normally Pinkie would see very small creases growing more pronounced as Twilight grew more stressed. Instead, the edges were smooth, in a way that Pinkie rarely even saw when watching Twilight sleep at night. 

Pinkie took Twilight’s muzzle between her hooves and pulled her forward to stare directly into her eyes, then looked as close as she possibly could at the edges. There wasn’t a single solitary crinkle to be found. She released Twilight’s face, then wrapped her forelegs around her in a big hug, picking her up and spinning her around. “You’re okay!” she exclaimed in a rush. “Really, really okay! Celly was right!”

“W-what was she right about?” Twilight managed after being set down.

“She said I was probably worried over nothing. Sometimes I’m too much of a Thinky-Pinkie and it all just piles up in my head—” Pinkie stopped in mid-sentence as she saw the reaction Twilight was having to her answer, and her smile slid off her face and shattered all over the floor.. “Oh no! They’re back again! I didn’t mean it, honest! I wasn’t worried, really!”

“I didn’t mean to worry you, Pinkie.” Twilight said. “It’s just... I’ve been making plans and they never felt right—”

Pinkie firmly pressed the frog of her hoof against Twilight’s mouth, effectively muffling her. She was silent for a long moment while she studied Twilight’s face, at the end of which her shoulders slumped. She drew her hoof back to herself, cradling it with her opposite hoof as if she’d just been burned just like that first time she’d been so excited to take out a cake that she’d forgotten the oven mitt. 

“It was the third date thing, huh?” she said after a long moment, staring at Twilight’s feet.

“I just wanted to get it perfect, Pinkie—”

“Are you going to be there?” Pinkie replied, still not meeting Twilight’s gaze. 

“Yes?” Twilight said, sounding confused.

“Then it’s already perfect!” Pinkie all-but-shouted. “That’s all I want!”

Pinkie looked up in surprise as Twilight hugged her.

“I’m sorry I made you worry,” Twilight whispered. “I should have just told you what was wrong.” She pulled back from the hug, and though Twilight’s eyes were glistening with unshed tears, the crinkles were gone again. “But I think it’s okay now. Princess Celestia helped me figure a few things out. So you don’t have to worry anymore, okay?”

Pinkie buried her muzzle in Twilight’s mane, hugging her back with twice the intensity she’d used before. “I won’t worry. Pinkie Prom—”

She stopped as she felt Twilight’s magic force her mouth closed, silencing the pledge.

“Don’t promise that!” Twilight said in a rush. “Nopony should ever have to promise that. You can worry, it’s okay! I just need to stop doing things that make you worry about me.”

“Mmm Mmmmmmmm, M mmmmm mmmmmmm M mmmm mmm!” Pinkie said, and gave Twilight an extra squeeze before letting her loose. 

“What?” Twilight asked, frowning. Then she smacked herself in the forehead with a hoof. “Right, sealed your lips. There!” she said as she released her magical hold. “Now, what?”

“I said, “But Twilight, I worry because I love you!’” Pinkie repeated. “I’m always worrying that you don’t sleep enough, or that you forgot to eat, or that you’re trying to keep your worries from making me worried.” Pinkie looked down at the shattered remains of her smile still scattered across the floor. It was gonna take a lot of happy to fix that one, and she was still unsure about trying to put on another, it might just fall off again.

Because there was a worry she’d never told Twilight about, either. And she wasn’t sure she ever could bring herself to say it. Part of her worried even more about ever saying it, because it might make it true.

She’d told Celly, once. 

“With me, she gets cranky, and sad, and... it’s like there’s a part of her I can’t reach. I just want to hold that part, and hug it until everything is okay.”

The worry deep inside her sometimes whispered that the reason she couldn’t reach that part was that she couldn’t. She was just a Pinkie Pie, and even if Twilight said she loved Pinkie... maybe it wasn’t enough.

Or worse, maybe it wasn’t true.

Twilight nodded sadly. “I’m sorry, I should have just told you. I just... I want us to be okay again.”

Pinkie hesitated for what seemed like an eternity, but probably not. Time could be such a sour-face when it felt ignored. She swept up the smile, glued it back together with every bit of happiness she could find, and when that ran out she borrowed as much hope she as she could to finish the job.Then she put it back where it belonged, good as new, maybe even better. And while she was at it, she pushed the worry back into the darkness, even daring to stick her tongue out at it before slamming the door in its stupid not-face. “We’re okay!” Pinkie insisted. “We’re okay as long as we both want us to be okay. And if we’re not we’ll make it okay! You’ll see!”

A final look of concern flashed across Twilight’s face, but she let it fade away into relief when Pinkie’s smile refused to budge. “You’re right.” she took a deep breath, exhaling it noisily.

“So... doing anything this weekend?” Twilight asked, answering Pinkie’s smile with one that felt truer than Pinkie’s own. 

It was a little shy, but genuine, and it made Pinkie fall in love all over again.
> Chapter 8: Figments
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sleep was an old friend to Celestia, and she enjoyed it whenever possible. In recent years she’d been able to enjoy more of it, as her sister took up at least some of the day to day governance, and of course, she’d been getting even more while recuperating from the massive magic expenditure required to cure Rarity of her magically induced affliction.

Dreams, on the other hoof, were not. After banishing her sister, the one duty she’d been utterly unable to take on in her sister’s stead had been that of Defender of Dreams. Even moving the moon had proven less difficult. Not only could she not act in Luna’s stead, but Celestia herself had found that to dream was to open herself to nightmares without end. For over a millenia she’d protected herself with powerful magicks, unable to face the wrath of her sister’s realm in her absence.

Even now, she felt a trace of the old fears as she disabled charms meant to shield her mind as she slumbered. She trusted Luna, but experiencing the ravages of the Dream Realm as she had in the wake of Luna’s banishment was something she did not wish on anypony. A lesser pony would have gone quite mad.

“It’s a good thing you are not a lesser pony.” her own personal madness said, staring at her from the opposite side of the bed. 

Celestia blinked.

“I thought you might like a gradual transition before jumping haunch-deep into dreams,” Astra said with a wink.

“Must you look like me?” Celestia asked eventually.

“To be honest, I’m not much to look at. This was the form you gave me when you sought me in your dreams, and...” Astra paused, smiling apologetically. “Well, when you tried to murder me.”

Celestia frowned, uncertain how she was meant to respond.

“I’m not blaming you, Celestia,” Astra said quickly. “But as I told you that day; I have no form other than the one you yourself give me.”

“You chose your own name,” Celestia replied. “Is a new form so difficult?”

“I...” Astra paused, tapping a hoof to her chin. “To be honest, I’ve never thought about it that way. When not in your dreams I have no need of one. Let me try something.”

The tall white alicorn stretched out on the bed and closed her eyes. Her form blurred and shrunk in on itself, taking on different but still familiar proportions. The long multihued mane became shorter, and overwhelmingly pink. The overall body became smaller, plumper, and younger.

“Is this better?” the fillyish pony asked as she opened her wide glistening eyes and spoke with the voice that Celestia had come to associate with Astra.

Celestia stared down, reflecting on just how adorable she’d apparently been as a filly. “That... that will do.”

Astra stood up, stumbling slightly as she tried to get her legs under her. “I... I think I like this body. It’s lighter, and...” she paused feeling the give of the bed under her hooves, and gave an experimental hop. “Oh my...” she hopped again. “Oh! That is fun!”

Celestia just watched for a time, reasoning that since she was dreaming, time was very much not of the essence. After what she judged to be several minutes, she finally asked: “Have you had enough for now?”

Astra, still bouncing with a look of intense pleasure, replied: “You’re just jealous that you couldn’t do this without breaking the bed.”

“I...” Celestia trailed off, uncertain how to respond, because it was somewhat true. “Are you saying I’m fat?” she eventually asked.

Astra halted herself mid-bounce, giving Celestia a serious look that came off looking very silly from the body she had assumed. “I’m saying you’re large, Celestia. We both know you have proportions other ponies aspire to have, most never realizing it takes special physiology to attain.”

“You’re not answering my question...” Celestia said with a frown.

Astra rolled her eyes. “If you’re expecting me to tell you that you might want to skip a serving or two of cake, I think you’ve misunderstood what I am. You’ll have to dig a little deeper into your mind if you want somepony to encourage you to have self-control.”

Celestia’s frown deepened, and she let out a little huff of annoyance.

Astra hopped down off the bed, saying: “Actually, now that we're talking about it, lets go downstairs and have some cake.”

“I'm dreaming, what would be the point?"  Celestia demanded.

Astra blinked, then smiled. In the next moment, a multi-layered, multi-flavored cake hovered between them both. "Good point. We don't even have to leave the bed!"  

"No, I mean... you can't really eat in a dream..." Celestia managed to say while watching Astra take a large chunk out of one side. 

"I can't eat at all,” Astra countered. “But I know cake tastes good from your memories, and that's enough to enjoy the act of eating it.”  

"But—"   

"Besides, here you can eat without worrying about getting 'larger.'" Astra said, sticking out her tongue to lap at the dollop of frosting on her nose.

Celestia stared at the cake. It was a thing of decadence, covered in multihued frosting, adorned with fresh fruit and donut sprinkles, and topped with what appeared to be chocolate-covered pretzels. It was everything she normally tried to avoid at silly dinner parties thrown by nobles, clearly the work of a madpony. Under no circumstances would she have ever allowed herself within a dozen yards of such a thing while in public.

Her eyes briefly shifted to Astra, who was standing next to the thing with a big smile, seemingly very pleased with herself. It was the simple joy in that smile that made Celestia reconsider just ignoring the monstrosity. It couldn’t hurt to try it, after all. She got down off of the bed and trotted towards the floating confection. 

Celestia took an experimental bite, and as the first flood of flavor hit her tongue her eyes opened wide.

“Do you like it?” Astra asked, hopping up and down as she watched Celestia chew. “I had only your memories to go on, but the instances of cake could fill volumes in real pages. I decided this one should taste like every other cake you’ve ever eaten.”

“That... should be disgusting...” Celestia said after finishing the bite in her mouth.

“Yes, well, cake should never taste bad, so I simply imagined all of the flavors meshing together in perfect harmony,” Astra said with a grin and a wink. “Being a thing of pure thought is quite useful in dreams. So, what do you think?”

“You may have ruined cake for me.” Celestia said. 

“Let’s not be silly,” Astra said, sticking her tongue out and blowing a raspberry at Celestia.

“I am being serious,” Celestia replied. “I don’t think mortal hooves could ever achieve this.”

“Nor should they try, or they would go mad in the attempt!” Astra said with a cackle. “But let us be honest with each other. You enjoy simplicity in your cakes far more than complexity. Thank you for indulging me.”

“I’m going to have to ask the kitchen staff to get creative the next time I have them make me a snack,” Celestia replied. She looked regretfully at the cake. Calling it a unique experience was not quite right, as she had literally tasted every type of cake that this amalgam was composed of, yet they were obviously not intended to be enjoyed in quite this way. The mere concept of such a thing was alarming, and only the fact that it did not truly exist helped her cope.

Astra pouted, then banished the cake from existence. “Fine, we’ll get down to business. It’s more fun when you actually eat things, anyway. It makes for new memories.”

Celestia nodded gratefully. “For what it’s worth, that was very interesting, and it’s helped make me feel like being a bit more adventurous with my pastries might be interesting.”

Astra frowned at her, muttering something about hoping to inspire adventurous behavior elsewhere, but after a moment she was smiling again. “I suppose if you pull off this little behind-the-scenes helper routine more interesting things should follow. Let’s go see Luna, then!”

Celestia nodded, then with a brief burst of thought she ‘teleported’ outside of the library. Astra followed suit after a moment.

“So, what did you have in mind to contact her?” Astra asked after a moment.

“I thought I might go to her,” Celestia replied.

“Oh? And how did you plan to get there?”

This question gave Celestia pause. Her first thought had been Canterlot, and the one that followed had been simple flight. She supposed she could fly faster than normal, perhaps even add some acceleration spells. But the idea of her current environs not being real, despite appearances, gave her another idea. 

Light form was not something she used often, or indeed at all of late history. Converting one’s entire form into energy and moving at something that started at the speed of light was not something you needed to do to get to the donut shop, after all. True, she’d used it on occasion to visit the outer edges of her little solar system while she waited for more interesting things to begin to happen on her world, but she hadn’t felt the need to venture past into the vast field of stars that were more her sister’s domain. 

As a rule, if one needed to get to a place quickly, one teleported. If you weren’t needed there instantaneously, there was always carriage or, in her case, flight.

All in all, this form had more drawbacks than advantages, not the least of which being that there was a nonzero chance of setting the atmosphere on fire, and a very high likelihood of alarming thousands of easily alarmed little ponies. That being said, there was something to be said for its uses in a space that was not defined by pesky things like physics.  

Astra flew beside her, looking at her curiously. Her eyes widened as Celestia’s inner light encapsulated all of her form, then her physical form dissolved, and in the next instant, Celestia was just outside the window of her own court.

Behind her was a trail of fire and budding thunderstorms rolling out from her wake that surely would have impressed the few who were not convinced it heralded their doom. Air, like water, did not like being displaced so quickly, and tended to collapse back together with a lot of noise. Celestia was confronted with Astra directly in front of her clapping her forehooves together and whistling. 

“Bravo! Encore! Encore!” Astra said with a huge, unrepentant grin. “When on earth did you learn to do that?”

“Nevermind,” Celestia replied with a smile that was just a little smug. “If you really want to know, you’ll have to dig quite far into the past.”

Astra nodded, and peered into the window with interest. “Do you think Luna will be in there?”

“Not until later. Given that she is likely keeping different hours while I am in Ponyville, I would expect her to be asleep at these hours. Which should mean she is in her bedroom.” Celestia said as she flew upwards towards the only tower as tall as her own.

It was a foreboding spire, and had been planned by its occupant to be one. If Luna had gotten her way, it would have been crafted of ebony and emblazoned with diamonds. ‘Let all our citizens behold the glory of the night sky at all hours!’ 

It was only when Celestia pointed out that a pitch black structure would be somewhat prone to being crashed into for anyone out for a nighttime flight that Luna had reconsidered, though Celestia had let Luna run with her interior designs to her heart’s content.

Despite keeping the color scheme of the rest of castle, it was still as tall as her own, and Luna had gotten the one other design choice she’d made; it was topped with a roof shaped like a wizard’s hat, meant to evoke that of one of their favorite tutors.

It also boasted the most comprehensive magic defense matrix of any location in the castle. Luna had done the work herself, having utilized every type of protection, detection, and repulsion magicks she’d learned or created in her centuries of studying magic alongside her sister. Some of the spells used were entirely unheard of, having been developed by Luna herself during her long imprisonment, their structures based on the very arcane locks that had kept her banished. 

Celestia knew of their existence, though had never studied them, having never needed to. The balcony was not the primary entrance to Luna’s room, after all. Assuming Celestia could not simply see Luna at breakfast, if she’d needed to speak with Luna she would have normally just gone to her chamber door and knocked. 

These were not normal circumstances, however. She reasoned this was enough justification to use the balcony instead. However, her first attempt met a violent repulsion, sending her back with a brief but intense gale force wind.

Celestia, after recovering from her skybound tumble, hovered in place and cast mage sight to look over the obstacle. No matter how complex it all was, every lock had a key, and as Celestia flew in front of the truly dizzying spell matrix, she found the equivalent of a hollow rock on the outer edges of it. For anypony else, it would have appeared as another pattern in the mix, but for Celestia, it might as well have read “Welcome, come inside.” It was not a spell, but a passphrase, meant only for those who could recognize it.

“The night time is the right time,” Celestia said with all the gravity she could muster while sporting such a large grin. Even after returning to her having suffered one thousand years of imprisonment, Luna still enjoyed making little digs at their age-old rivalry.  

Astra flew beside her, cocking her head to one side, “For what, exactly?”

“Oh, all sorts of things,” Celestia responded airily. She landed on the balcony, passing through the spells like air, and opened the doors to her sister’s chambers.

It was like blasting open the entrance to a cave in. The light went in only so far and stopped abruptly, as if it feared to intrude further. Beyond the edges was what could only be described as magically produced gloom. It was a darkness that seemed alive. Less an absence of light and more a hunger for it. The sort of dark one encountered in places where light might only come from glowing fungus or bioluminescent fish. 

Deep inside the shadowed environs, she could see Luna’s personal bed. It was an interesting conceit, sleeping inside the cradle of the crescent moon. In truth, Celestia was a little jealous, as the sun was not something that lent itself to the ideas of rest.

Inside the bed, snuggled deep inside the covers, was Luna. Between her and Luna was another set of wards, and this one did not have a convenient key phrase embedded into the design.

Celestia frowned, uncertain about how to proceed. She’d intended to shake her sister awake, hoping that by interacting with her sister’s representation in this dream reality, she might alert the actual Luna to her presence. Unfortunately, Celestia’s subconscious seemed keenly aware that Luna would not have left her unconscious form open to attack. Luna’s wards had held off entire squadrons of changelings, after all. She had been so secure as to not have even noticed an invasion was happening to begin with.

“Is something wrong?” Astra asked. 

Celestia let out a loud sigh as she sat down heavily. “Yes. I can’t get to my sister,” she said, looking away from Luna for the moment. “I had planned to attempt to wake her.”

Astra looked at Luna in consternation. “Okay? I mean, she’s not actually there, this is your dream, not hers. But let’s ignore that and focus on why you think you can’t get to her.”

“My sister uses very complex wards. I was able to get past the ones on the balcony—”

“Your sister does, yes, but why would that matter?” Astra demanded. “This is your dream.”

“I—” Celestia stopped as she answered, considering. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I just know that I can’t break these, and I can’t bypass them.”

Astra’s jaw opened and hung agape. “You... you’re thinking of this all wrong, Celestia. This is not reality.”

“Yes, I know that, but—”

Astra held up a hoof, then summoned a pair of shears from the aether. She opened and closed them in her magic, smiling at Celestia. “Just cut the ribbon, Celestia.”

“It’s not that simple—”

“Of course it is. A dream is as simple or complex as you make it,” Astra said dismissively. “You dreamed all of this, and in the doing you made a barrier you can’t pass. So unmake it.”

“You’re barking up the wrong tower there, Miss!” A voice called out from outside. 

Astra spun around to face the new voice, but was greeted only with a flinty, misshapen grin adorning a similarly misshapen body. “Who—”

“Well, not a who so much as a what, at the moment. And as I was saying, Celestia’s a bit too much of a goody-two shoes to break the rules. Most of the time, anyway.”

Celestia’s expression darkened. “No—”
“Hello, ladies. Are we feeling our oats a little? Perhaps sowing some wild ones?” The statue tapped a clawed hand to his chin. “No, I suppose not. So repressed that your own psyche developed a crack. Hello there, nice to meet you, Schism.”

“My name is Astra, thank you very much,” Astra replied testily. “And you should be down in the garden posing, shouldn’t you?”

Discord smiled, his gray, mismatched teeth baring widely. “Oh my, yes. But this is Celestia’s dream, and she knows that actions have consequences. Don’t you, my dear Princess?”

“You’re still a statue,” Celestia replied carefully. “You were imprisoned by the elements. By ponies with stronger convictions than even my own.”

“Yes, yes. You’re quite correct. Still a statue,” Discord knocked on his head with the knuckle of his paw, making a dull thud sound. “And very much so outside of this little realm as well, but in dreams, statues can talk and do all sorts of nonsensical things. Things like tear holes in the sky to let the monsters in to play. Shall I, Celestia?” He looked behind him, letting out a dark chuckle. “Oh, my. I suppose I don’t have to. You tore the sky open yourself.” 

Celestia rushed to the balcony, and saw a rift in the sunlit sky, past which a swirling morass of darkness could be seen. And from that darkness, creatures of nightmare were flying through, or dropping in some cases. They became armies of former foes long slain, current foes thought bested, and the more nebulous possible foes always on the horizon for a mare who had lived for generations upon generations and expected to continue doing so.

The sound of two stone-clad appendages clapping could be heard just to her side. “You know, I always knew you had it in you, Celestia.”

Celestia bowed her head, allowing herself a moment to weep in frustration. She’d seen this once before.

Her sister had taught her that dreams were a place of infinite possibility. And during their long centuries together, Celestia’s dreams had ever been beautiful, and peaceful. Within was a world as she hoped it would one day be, without conflict, happy.

After her sister’s banishment, however... her dreams had darkened. Then... the Nightmares had come. 

They had accosted her endlessly, making her every night a fight for survival, until she’d been afraid to sleep. The final night she had ever dreamed naturally had seemed like an eternity of endless battle, and while she could envision success in most cases, she was a realist at heart. Even in her dreams.

Her dreams could be whatever she imagined, and she could imagine her own defeat easily enough. Rather than face that, she’d simply stopped sleeping, until she’d managed to cobble the wards and charms necessary to stop her from dreaming again.

“Celestia?” Astra said from her side. 

Celestia let out a snarl of defiance, and summoned forth her armor and blades from the aether. If her Nightmares were here to face her again, so be it.

“Celestia, wait!” Astra screamed after her as she dove off the balcony and opened her wings to take to the sky.

Celestia readied combat magicks she’d not used for centuries. Most of her spells were best suited for fighting armies, and the last time she’d had to use them was some centuries ago against Griffonstone’s forces. It left her at a slight disadvantage when facing single opponents, which was where the armor and blade came into play.

They were not forged so much as held to shape by powerful spells, being formed of the metals that swirled deep inside the heart of her sun. Superheated well beyond what even the hottest forges or spells could produce, the armor did not block blows so much as melt anything (or being) that touched it to slag and ashes.

Not the sort of thing you kept around on an armor stand to collect dust.

The sword’s point and edge were sharpened to an edge so fine it could not be properly perceived without extreme magnification. It did not so much cut as pass through what she swung at, leaving two finely cut and cauterized edges behind.

She’d had to agree never to use it again as part of a peace treaty with the dragons, who had, in turn, gifted her with the knowledge of dragonfire as a means of sending missives to continue communications between the nations, and with a small purple spotted egg as a gesture of goodwill.

She’d normally never dream of breaking such an agreement, but she supposed she was dreaming of doing just that now. She imagined old Torch would forgive her under the circumstances.

“Why don’t you just ask him?” Discord said, lazily lounging on a cotton candy cloud. “He’s there amongst the other dragons thirsting for your blood. Ooo, is that Yinglong I spy?” He pulled out a spyglass, chortling as he adjusted it. “My goodness! It’s a veritable who’s who of would-be world dominators down there, and up there, and over to the left and right too!”

“Can you be serious for one moment?” Celestia demanded as she weaved another layer of protection magic into her armor.

“I’m hurt, Celestia. Or, I would be, if I wasn’t made of stone. You’ve cut me to the quick,” He held out a knife and thrust it at his chest, only to have the tip snap off. He tossed the broken knife away, where it stabbed into another cloud which promptly let out a loud scream. “Of course I can be serious. I simply choose not to be. Somepony has to help balance you out, and your little friend is clearly not enough.”

“I’m doing my best, I’ll have you know!” Astra shouted at him as she swooped up to join them both. “It’s not exactly easy to get her to cooperate!” She turned to Celestia, putting both forehooves on her hips. “And you! You’re going along with this? This is your dream, Celestia. You can control it.”

Discord chortled heartily. “Poor little Schism. It’s easy to be calm when you don’t exist as others do. I would know, after all. I’m a bit of a figment myself. A physical body is just a means of interaction for us, its destruction an inconvenience at best. But for her, this is all nearly as real as when she’s awake. Her pulse quickens, her adrenaline surges, she breaks out in a sweat. There’s a reason Luna tries to protect ponies from their own nightmares, and it’s not just because of a guilty conscience. Enough fear can kill, and hers have been waiting around for centuries to have another chance at her.”

Even as they watched, more horrors dropped from the tear in the skyline. Sombra’s armies appeared on the horizon, the Hordes of Minos, and from the center rose a figure of sheer menace, his visage agape in mismatched and bloodied teeth. His eyes glowing red, his face a mask of rage. From his fingertips, thousands of strings made an army of grey ponies dance a dirge played by the wailing sound of a marching band of accordions, none of which seemed to be in tune.

“Why, of all the—” Discord let out a disgruntled huff. “Is that meant to be me?”

Celestia turned to him and nodded, looking paler than usual.

“I am not some ravening beast, Celestia!” Discord protested. 

“You are in my worst nightmares,” Celestia replied with a weak chuckle. “If it makes you feel better, I know you’re capable of much worse than this.”

Discord frowned, then nodded. “Well, so long as you’re aware.”

Astra frowned down at the massing horde. The potential for violence was permeating the very air, but so far, the armies were not attacking. It was as if they were waiting for a response.

“All right,” Astra said after a moment. “What do we do?”

“I cannot run,” Celestia answered. “I tried that once, and only awoke hours later feeling utterly exhausted. I must face them.”

Astra nodded, a smile growing on her face. Her form shimmered, and coalesced into the same filly form clad in golden armor, a blade floating beside her. “And what about you?” she said, turning to Discord. “Plan to just watch?”

The stone form of Discord placed a claw tip to his chin, tapping thoughtfully. “Honestly? I hadn’t given it much thought. It has been greatly amusing watching Celestia be her own worst enemy. Much more so than seeing the pigeons squabble.”

“Would you like to join in?” Astra asked. “Could be a lot of chaos involved in a battle with this many foes.”

“Well, threaten me with a good time!” Discord replied with a grey toothy grin. “But, just so we’re clear, I’m doing this because it amuses me, so don’t get any weird ideas.”

Celestia shook her head, wondering which of the monsters was worse. Then she bared her teeth, aiming for the center of the armies, flanked by the pint-size fury that was Astra and the odd figure of Discord poised as if surfing on the cloud he was standing on. Seeing her glance his way, he put on a dark park of sunglasses and pointed two of his clawed fingers in her direction, making pew pew noises she could somehow hear over the deafening wind of her own descent.





Luna saw the world from multiple perspectives as her selves searched the Dream Realm for disturbances in the dream bubbles of her people.

Feeling guilty for indulging herself in an actual honest-to-goodness dream with Fleur and Fancy, she’d been working herself extra hard after dismissing them both to their own respective dreams. In such a state, with information flying back and forth to her from the many, many instances of Luna, it was a bit difficult to keep track of time. 

Fortunately, a newly forged but still tenuous connection to the sun, and the solid, tried and true connection to the moon gave her a vague sense if she paid attention to it. She had been up very briefly, just before sunrise, and had made her way out of Fleur’s bed with a minimum of fuss and two fond kisses for her still-sleeping bedmates. Since then she’d brought the sun out of its slumber, and had gone to work for those whose day had yet to begin.

While it was true that many ponies still lived their lives by the sun, with the advent of a thing called ‘electricity’ some now kept later and later hours, which naturally meant they were later risers. Luna could be near-omnipresent in her realm, but try as she might, she could not manage to patrol the Realm during all of the hours ponies now slept, leaving her with the unfortunate decision of who to help. She hoped to remedy this disparity just a bit by exploring the dreams of those late risers who often still slept while the sun hit its very zenith. A little reward for ponies who, while not truly nocturnal, very much appreciated the serenity of darkness after all others sought out their beds.

Her other selves had found many such needy ponies; those whose dreams were disturbed by the morning sounds of life around them. Such rarely needed more than a small change in the environment of their dreams to sleep peacefully.

There were fewer and fewer dreams as the day wore on, dwindling down to a mere ten thousand or so as the sun neared the height of its climb. Had she not been searching so hard, she might have missed the lone dream in a place she’d normally not expect to find one at such a late hour.

Ponyville was not a town full of late risers by any stretch of the imagination. Even Twilight Sparkle never quite approached noon, no matter how many candles she’d burned low the previous evening. But there was a lone dream reported by one of her other selves, and worse, it was attracting negative energy from the Dreamscape. Its exterior was the kind of black that only existed in a realm that saw no true sunlight, its surface traumatic like a stormy sea.

Were it some other small town, she might have allowed the dream clone of herself to go within, but Ponyville was special for many reasons, and certain inhabitants more special still. It was also a place of disproportionate danger, like some sort of magnet for strange occurrences. Luna could not hazard a guess as to why, but knew it to be so.

And so she transversed the Dreamscape in her own body, entering the dream through a large gaping hole breached in the dark surface.

Within, she found horror. It was the smell that assaulted her first. One never truly forgets the smell of battle. It had a pointed wrongness to it. Ponies were not, by nature, a violent species. Yes, there were battles of dominance, and in some cases battles over territory, but such rarely led to bloodshed if confined within the species. Even the clashes of old before the races had gotten over their differences for the sake of their own survival had rarely caused real casualties.

But in this dream, she was assaulted with the smell of blood, and burning flesh, even the smells of scorched earth. As the smoke cleared for a moment, she saw why.

Two bright points of light streaked across the battlefield, leaving ashes in their wake.

The smaller of the two resolved itself first, revealed to be a remarkably younger-looking Celestia clad in full battle regalia and wielding a golden lance, which Luna found confusing. But the larger was even more so, as it was very clearly Celestia herself wearing The Sun’s Glory and swinging The Sun’s Fury with what could only be described as reckless abandon. Celestia had not resorted to using them in more centuries than Luna could immediately count, largely because their very existence had been declared a war crime amongst the races civilized enough to sign treaties with Equestria.

All in all, seeing a statue of Discord grappling with another Discord that seemed even more insidiously evil than the one she remembered seemed rather normal afterwards.

Just being in this space both frightened and invigorated her, and for a long moment she struggled with herself, wanting to join in the fray, not even certain which side it would be on. She could feel the energy of the Nightmare resonating in the darkness, and resisted the temptation with furious anger. Instead, she flew high, and bellowed forth a single word.

“Halt!”

For a moment, she wasn’t sure if she’d done it right. Night Blossom had shown her that time itself was within her influence, but she’d never had occasion to wish to exert that sort of control over somepony else’s dreams.

But then, she’d also never seen her sister fending off armies from the four corners of the globe simultaneously. 

Two points of light continued to flit about in the smoke and ash, seemingly confused at the sudden lack of opposition.

After a brief moment, a pink cloud rose from the mass of bodies below, a grey figure perched atop it, chortling mightily. “Well, how do you do to you too, Princess of Dreams! Did you come to join the party? There’s just scads of fun to be had!”

Luna eyed the statue of her old foe coldly. Even for her, it was disconcerting to see it move and speak so. She resolved to go and check on the statue later in the day, to reassure herself it hadn’t changed. “Figment, know your place.”

The statue looked surprised, but cast his eyes downward in deference. “But of course, Your Highness! I meant no disrespect.”

“Tell me what has transpired here,” Luna said brusquely.

“Oh, just a little bit of night terror in the middle of the day, Princess. How very like your sister to be having it during these hours, eh?” The statue looked up at her waggled its flinty eyebrows comically. “She seems to have been repressing her nightmares for some time, maybe you could give her a lesson on what happens if you do such a thing for too long.”

“Enough of this farce,” Luna’s horn flashed, and in the statue’s place, a small spark remained. 

“Awww, I was really getting into the spirit of being the essence of chaos,” a small voice said with a hint of resentment.

“I set you with the task of guarding my sister if she chose to dream, Figment. Yet here I find her in a warzone.”

“I tried, Highness. But she attracts a lot of attention. I was watching her from the garden when I saw havoc approaching from all directions. I thought it might at least be of use to warn her of what was coming.”

“You would have done better to fetch me immediately,” Luna said. “Still, you did well to aid her in what way you could.”

The spark flashed, its voice sounding pleased. “Oh, thank you, Princess!”

“You can thank me by never using his voice or visage again,” Luna said with a shudder.

“Awww, but Princess Celestia seemed very fond of it,” Figment replied in protest.

Luna regarded the spark with a single raised eyebrow.

“Well... she didn’t... hate it?” Figment offered pitifully.

“She’ll be fond of other things when she dreams again. Pick something else,” Luna replied firmly.

Figment flashed in a rather muted way, its voice heavy with disappointment. “Yes, Princess...”

Luna smiled gently. “We are not wroth with thee, faithful one. Thou didst well, indeed, more than well. Now, hy thee hence from here, Our sister approaches.”

“Yes, Princess!” it replied, sounding much happier. Figment momentarily blinded Luna as it transformed into a cute little nimbus cloud and drifted away apace, where it held its position in defiance of the direction and speed of the wind.
> Chapter 9: Butterfly Migration
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

In battle, the goal is, at its core, to get the other being to stop attacking you.

This was, of course, the most simplistic way to describe it, but it was one that Celestia held true to whenever forced into a situation in which she had to fight another being. Her goal was never to injure, or to kill, but to end hostility in whatever way she needed to.

What she was engaging in with her nightmares was therefore not a battle, but wholesale slaughter.

The creatures of nightmare gave no quarter and asked for none. They came at her from all sides, attacking in what could only be described as a flood. She in turn did not so much attack or defend as she did carve a path through the horror.

She was aware, somewhere in the back of her mind, that what she was attacking was not pony, nor even griffon or dragon or yak. It was good to remember as she cleaved through a royal guardspony with blood red eyes and a greyed out mane and coat. She chanted it in her head as the two halves burned away in her sword’s wake. She knew the stallion well. His father, grandfather, and great grandfather going back at least seven generations had all been guards before him; he had recently married and his wife was expecting. She had even approved his promotion last month.

Somewhere to the left of her, Astra’s voice cried out in delight. “That’s one thousand two hundred and three! How many are you up to?”

“I’m afraid I stopped counting around the time I cleared out the majority of the griffon forces,” Celestia replied. She threw up a wall of force to keep the rest of the horde from coming any closer, if only to spare herself more unpleasant recognitions.

“How am I meant to know if I am winning, then?” Astra replied, blocking a blast with her golden shield while thrusting her lance into the breastplate of a charging earthpony.

Celestia finished casting the spell she’d been crafting, and the center of a horde of Sombra’s Crystal Forces approaching from the west erupted into flames the height of grown trees. “I think I may have pulled ahead again with that one,” she said with a sigh.

Astra groaned loudly. “Must you take the fun out of everything?”

Celestia’s mouth quirked up into a half smile. “We’ll call that eight hundred as a rough estimate. I’m afraid I didn’t have time to do a more accurate count. That makes fifteen hundred or so.”

“Yes, but you’re cheating! I thought we agreed we’d strictly be fighting hoof to hoof and blade to blade.”

“We never discussed how to fend them off at all!” Celestia protested, sending her molten blade spinning into and through a line of spearponies advancing on her flank.

“It was implicit!” Astra demanded. “If we’re going to be tossing off spells I’ll need to figure out how you cast them from your memories and that will add precious seconds because I’ve no wish to just make things happen in place of spells, that would be cheating myself!”

Celestia’s ears perked up. “Wait... you’re saying you could simply cause explosions without the spell casting necessary?”

“Of course! I’ve already told you, I’m a being of pure thought, this realm responds to that very easily, but that would be cheat—”

“Then cheat, for the love of the sun!” Celestia bellowed. “Clear out some of these—”

In a wide radius around her, roughly four similar sized explosions to the one Celestia had caused went off, decimating the forces centered near them and leaving a large swath of charred battlefield between them and their aggressors.

“We’re not counting those,” Astra declared with a surly tone.

“As you wish,” Celestia replied.

Astra took a moment to fly to her side, observing the steadily advancing armies as they closed in. “I suppose I can’t properly experience terror, since I don’t really fear this form being hurt, but why were you having such trouble when this happened before? I find this rather fun!”

“It wasn’t like this,” Celestia answered. “I was younger, I’d just lost my sister, and that alone made me feel so unsure. I ran, and flew, and only fought when cornered.” She gave Astra a brief but heartfelt smile. “And I had no allies to defend me.”

“And you couldn’t have imagined armies of your own?” Astra pressed, answering Celestia’s smile with a cocky smirk.

“I would never have pictured commanding armies at all. My sister and I were the most reluctant sort of rulers, then. One thousand years of building a government, training guards... even if only for basic defense as they rarely see oppositional forces... it changes your mindset. I’ve fought every single one of these forces in the past, but it’s all been in the more recent time after I lost Luna.”

“I suppose you have matured just a little in that time.” Astra replied. 

Celestia chuckled, then coughed as a cloud of ashes that had previously been her third regiment blew past them. “Just a little.”

Astra looked all around at the advancing masses. “This doesn’t seem to be ending anytime soon.”

“Getting bored?” Celestia replied as glibly as she could under the circumstances.

“Hardly. But I think I’m beginning to understand the concept of hopelessness better. Which is a bit odd, as I was born from hopes and dreams being repeatedly dashed. I’m all hope and want. But this... yes. I think I see now.” She rapped her spear against her shield, her countenance firming into grim resolution. “Fine, let’s face your fears, Celestia.”

She charged forward, a streak of gold and white shouting promises of violence and fury. Celestia watched her charge with her brows high in surprise, then followed, aiming for a giant hulking minotaur brandishing what looked like a stone pillar as a club.

She expected some show of defiance from the ones in front of him, after all, he was clearly a warleader of sorts and would have a squad around him for defence. Instead she found a sea of frozen fury glaring at her, unmoving and silent.

Astra was some distance away, almost looking like she was dancing as she tore through the similar lack of opposition as if through tissue paper. She too stopped after a moment, surprised and looking somewhat unnerved by the oddness of it.

They mutually returned to each other’s side and away from the frozen armies after a few moments.

“Are time outs a thing in war?” Astra hissed in undertone when she was within hearing distance once more.

“Not in any that I have participated in,” Celestia replied. She frowned, uncertain if she could even afford a sigh of relief without knowing how long her respite was going to last. She threw up a shield around the two of them, just in case it was some sort of trick.

After a few moments, she let the shield fall once more. She approached the Crystal Army, still shuddering at seeing the slave helms that robbed them of any expression and turned even the most innocent into a mindless machine of war. They seemed to be in mid charge, only two of their hooves touching the ground in what would seem a horrible position to even attempt to balance in.

“Discord’s gone!” Astra called out from the other side of their self made clearing. 

Celestia turned, and found Astra pointing downward from above at the nightmarish Discord grappling with open air, his foe having apparently fled. This didn’t surprise Celestia, as it had been a surprise that he was willing to help at all, but it also seemed to indicate that the friendlier statue version of Discord had left the battle after all of their foes had spontaneously gone immobile.

A bright flash of light in the sky above caught her attention, and she looked up at its source to see her sister hovering above them. 

“What do we do now?” Astra asked.

Celestia flew upwards to meet her sister, not even stopping to consider whether this too might be one of her nightmares. She knew of only one pony who could so affect another’s dreams.





Luna had finished creating a nice cloud upon which to stand by the time Celestia finished her ascent, and she smiled and embraced her sister as she landed. “Tia! You should have sent word, I would have watched over your dream personally.”

“It was a spontaneous decision,” Celestia replied, returning the embrace. 

Luna eyed her curiously after they’d separated, then responded: “Really? That’s rare, from you.”

A mere moment later found them joined by the younger looking version of her sister, who landed in a bit of a tumble of limbs and wings, coming to rest at Luna’s feet. She spat out a tuft of cloud, grinning up at Luna. “I know! She did some selfish and impulsive things! It was glorious!” She hopped to her feet, her wings still outstretched in apparent excitement as she lifted a hoof and pointed at Luna. “She came, Celestia! Just like you said she would!”

Luna looked at what she could only describe as her younger sister with consternation, then found her own face lit with an equally bright smile. “Celestia? What am I looking at, exactly?”

The little one frowned, piping up in a sudden fit of pique. “Hey! I have a name, you know! And I think that qualifies me as a ‘who’, not a ‘what’.” she frowned in sudden thought. “Actually, you probably wouldn’t know. I didn’t have one the last time you saw me! It’s Astra, I picked it myself!”

Luna’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “I... see?”

“Astra is my own personal little madness,” Celestia said conversationally. “We called her Fiend when we first encountered her in my dreams.”

“Oh!” Luna said, appraising the smaller Alicorn anew. “I remember you being bigger,” she said after a moment.

‘Astra’ stuck out her tongue playfully, “I’m not anything at all, really. But I like this body. It’s quick and light! Plus I can do this!” she said, hopping in place and apparently expecting the surface of the cloud rebound her. She looked down in evident disappointment. “Beds are nicer for it. Clouds are surprisingly solid.”

Luna nodded sagely, “Stratus always are. If you want a good bounce you need a cumulus. They are very fluffy.”

Astra’s eyes grew round with wonder. She peeked out over the edge, scanning the surrounding sky. “Really?” she whispered.

“Pegasus beds are crafted from them.” Luna replied, nodding knowingly. She too knew the joy of a good bounce. “ ‘Tis softer than the finest down, and springy as a sponge cake.”

Astra turned back to Celestia, “Tia, can we please—”

“Another time, Astra,” Celestia answered wearily. “I need to speak with Luna.”

Astra pouted, but didn’t argue, muttering about ‘holding Celestia to her promise’. She sat down heavily on her rump, looking at Luna expectantly. “All right,” she said with a little huff.

Luna gave her sister a curious look, then sat down herself. “I’m going to guess it’s something important if you were willing to brave nightmares to get my attention. You could have just sent dragonfire, after all.”

“That one is still a little taxing,” Celestia admitted sheepishly. “And in fairness, I wasn’t expecting such a difficult time.”

“She was expecting to shake you awake somehow,” Astra said with a chuckle. “How that was supposed to work, I have no idea.”

Luna nodded, still looking at Celestia expectantly, “Speaking to the moon might have been more effective, but a representation of me would have gotten the attention of one of my selves. Intent has power, here.”

“So, wait...” Astra replied, cocking her head to one side. “The silly idea would have worked?”

“It’s not silly!” A smaller and younger-looking Luna said as she landed on the cloud with a pompf. “Dreams just have their own rules.”

Luna’s mouth quirked up in annoyance. “Figment, I told you to get out of sight.”

“Well then, tell her to stop being wrong!” Figment said insistently as it pointed at Astra. “I’m not the one coming into somepony else’s dream and trying to tell them how their world is supposed to work.” 

“Hey!” Astra protested. “It’s not my fault if your silly dream logic is silly!” She stuck out her tongue at Figment and blew a raspberry.

Figment’s expression grew surprised and upset, her little wings raising in a posture of imminent violence. “I just said—”

“Figment!” Luna said sharply. “Stop that at once.”

Figment’s mouth snapped shut, her wings dropping to her side and ears laying back in dismay. “I didn’t mean—”

A quick but meaningful frown was all it took to silence Luna’s virtual doppelganger.

Luna sighed, smiling apologetically at Celestia. “Forgive this little one’s impertinence, sister. Figment means well, but should know better than to make a nuisance of itself.”

It was Celestia’s turn to look nonplussed, and she did so, looking down on the tiny blue alicorn and asking: “A little friend, I presume?”

“A figment,” Luna explained. “Inhabitants of the Dreamscape. They enjoy acting as impetus for ponies in our dreams, shaping themselves to our memories, becoming parts in the play of our mind. This one was tasked to watch for you, and keep you safe from nightmares. It was not tasked to argue with its betters.”

“She’s not better than me!” Figment protested vehemently, pointing at Astra.

Celestia frowned. “And she does this while taking your form?”

“I wasn’t in this form!” Figment protested. “But the princess said I am not allowed to use the other form I used anymore.” she pouted momentarily. “I thought that one was fun, although holding still all the time wasn’t. But I did get to fight off an army!”

Celestia looked surprised at this revelation, giving Figment a grateful smile. “I see. You stayed in character very well, little one.”

“I told you she liked it!” Figment crowed in triumph. She hopped around in a circle, looking very pleased with herself. Astra watched with evident interest.

Luna shook her head incredulously. “Yes, well, I still haven’t heard what was so important. But perhaps let’s sojourn to a place not filled with ravening hordes.” She opened a door in midair, gesturing to her garden beyond. “Hurry through. I’m not entirely sure I know how I’m holding them still and I would hate to be interrupted further.” 

Astra went first, emulating Figment’s pronking with obvious pleasure. Celestia eyed the door for a moment, then stepped through herself. Luna was last, stopping at the threshold for a moment to halt Figment from joining them.

“Go and rest, little one. The night comes apace from now, and others will need your aid.”

Figment frowned, looking ready to protest, which was a little disconcerting as it was still maintaining the look of Luna’s younger self. After a moment it nodded. It gave her a look of determination before it allowed its form to dissipate into stardust, after which Luna shut the door behind her.





“Darling, we’re going to fall behind.” Rarity called back to Fluttershy.

Fluttershy was engaged in a staring contest,and had been for some time. She was not making any headway, due to the fact that her opponent did not possess the capacity to blink. It was not going to end well for her. The unknowing opponent was dressed in a rather plain dress and was also threatening Fluttershy’s title for the quiet game. Of course, no judge would ever rule in favor of a painting, but Fluttershy seemed to be determined to defend her title nonetheless. 

Fluttershy eventually turned away, trotting after Rarity. Perhaps she had silently declared herself the winner. “I like her smile,” she announced sporting one that was similar enough to the painting as to be uncanny.

“She’s known for that, yes,” Rarity replied with a smile of her own.

All around them ponies gathered in little groups, some led by tour guides like their own, some on self-guided tours. Here and there she could see groups of Griffons, which, while not as numerous as the ponies, were in large enough numbers as to blend in quite well themselves. Rarity suspected that mix might be the reason for the omnivorous diet to be found in most of Prance. 

There was little of red meat to be found in the local cuisine (and thank goodness, as it would have greatly concerned her marefriend as to the source) but fish, both fresh and saltwater, variety seemed to be staples. Fruits, vegetables and grains were thankfully in attendanceas well, but one did like to attempt new dishes on occasion.

There was a lot to see in Mareis, and indeed, they’d seen much in the week that they’d spent there so far. And yet...

More than anything, she wished she could kiss her sister good night, or absently pet Opal while working on a sketch.

She felt thoroughly ungrateful for these thoughts, as this trip and all the bits they were using for various souvenirs and extravagences were all being afforded to them by Fluttershy’s impressively large bank balance. No assurances of not needing the money for ‘much of anything, really’ could dissuade Rarity from her feelings of guilt. And sadly, no feelings of guilt could quite make the feelings of homesickness go away. 

Mareis definitely had its appeal. It was the city of love, and lights. The culture of the ancient world, the couture that continued to shape the rest of the world’s. The museums, the restaurants, Mareis had everything.

Everything except... her sister, and her perpetually hard-to-please cat, and her dreadfully tacky parents in their dreadfully tacky home. And her other four best friends. And her little shop where she could create some of the things she’d been dreaming about for the last week and had filled her sketchbooks with, and—

“Rarity?”

Rarity slapped a smile on her face and turned back to Fluttershy quickly. “Yes, darling?”

Fluttershy had stopped in front of another painting, a rather famous piece by a pegasus painter called Many Clouds, who had spent much of his life painting scenes of large gatherings from his perch atop his namesake. It was a scene of ponies and griffons having a picnic near a lakeside, the foals and griffon cubs frollicing with their friends and respective pets.

Her darling seemed a bit fixated on the pets, and when she turned to Rarity she seemed a bit apprehensive. “Rarity... um... can I tell you something without you getting too mad?”

Rarity cocked her head to one side in confusion, uncertain what exactly Fluttershy could have been worried about but doing her best not to treat her newly wedded wife’s worries without a proper respect, even if it might possibly upset her. “Of course, Darling!”

Fluttershy took a deep breath, glancing back at the painting for a moment before looking at Rarity once more. “Would... would you mind if we maybe went back home for just a little while? I know we said two weeks but I’m worried about Angel and all my friends at home and I would really feel better if we could visit for a while, then maybe come back here, or go anywhere else you wanted, really.” She exhaled as she finished, looking slightly relieved to have said it, but still a bit nervous to see Rarity’s reaction. “Please?" She added.

Rarity simply looked at Fluttershy for a long moment, then broke out in a brilliant smile. “Darling, of course we can! Truthfully I’ve been struggling with a bit of homesickness myself, but I didn’t want to mention it because I didn’t want to spoil the mood!”

Fluttershy rushed forward and hugged Rarity tightly. “Thank you! And it’s okay, you don’t have to make me feel better. I just... I get worried, and I didn’t want that to keep distracting me—”

“Darling, I wasn’t lying, truthfully the last couple of evenings the only thing I have wanted as much as being at your side at night was to kiss my baby sister goodnight! I only hope my parents haven’t been letting her cook, and Celestia only knows how Opal is faring—”

Fluttershy pecked her lightly on the cheek, then shook her head. “You’re so nice. It’s okay, really. Let’s just enjoy the rest of our day here and I’ll book us an airship back home when we get to the hotel.”

Rarity thought to protest further, but wisely kept it to herself. If Fluttershy wished to believe she was exaggerating her own worries, it certainly hurt nothing to let her. “And this won’t cause you too much extra expense?” Rarity asked instead. She’d done her very best not to concern herself with the cost of this trip at Fluttershy’s insistence, but even having seen the sheer volume of Fluttershy’s accumulated payments from the carrot juice company for the continued use of her image as their mascot (she still remembered the mixed look of fear and delight that had been on the bank manager’s face as they wheeled the carts full of bits inside), she felt they must have made a serious dent by now.

Fluttershy laughed lightly. “Actually, after I sent Ms. Photo Finish a letter to thank her for all of their payments and explained I was using the money to go on honeymoon, she wrote me back with their best wishes, and they sent along another much bigger check as a wedding present.” she sighed. “They’re really too nice.”

Rarity opened and closed her mouth wordlessly, keeping her thoughts to herself. She knew very well about how embarrassed her new wife was with regards to the unexpected (and largely unwanted) largess of her benefactor. Fluttershy just seemed happy to have some reason to spend some of it, and Rarity felt it would be incredibly ungrateful to express any sort of jealousy over Fluttershy’s income while she was on a trip paid entirely by it.

Yet, as a mare who considered her success largely self-made, seeing somepony stumble into fortune by sheer happenstance made her just a smidge envious, despite herself. She consoled herself yet again with the reminder that money was, in and of itself, merely a tool, not a measure of success.  

It was not an attitude many of her peers in the industry shared, but she herself wanted ponies knowing her work, and valued that over mere income.

Still, bits did help in many situations.

She took a look around at the majesty before her. She’d dreamed of seeing this city since she was a foal, but had never imagined actually getting to do so. The idea of leaving without seeing every little bit of it would have been something her younger self would have protested endlessly.

Fluttershy smiled at her shyly as she met her gaze once more. 

Mareis was wonderful, and there were many sights left to see. But it could wait awhile. 

“We... um... we’ll need to pack in the morning, but... we still have the suite tonight, with that great big fluffy bed... I can have room service bring us something nice for dinner, and then we could maybe...” Fluttershy blushed hotly.

Rarity nodded wordlessly. 

Mareis was lovely, but it could wait a while. She promised her younger self they would return soon, and then allowed herself to stop worrying about it. 

Fluttershy kissed her softly on the cheek as she laid a wing over her back. “Thank you,” she whispered breathily.

It was an old city, and could take care of itself until she returned. Rarity had other things to worry about.

This was a honeymoon, after all.   





Pinkie Pie was unreasonably happy.

Which wasn’t to say she was happy beyond reason, that would be silly. She was just so happy that nothing could reasonably make her not happy. Not even a silly bunny throwing carrots at her.

Which was a good thing, because she had a silly bunny and his silly bunny friends throwing a lot of carrots in her direction.

“Silly Angel, carrots are for eating, not throwing!” Pinkie said as she caught them all easily in the baskets she’d brought them in. “Fluttershy would be very upset with you right now!”

The fact that Fluttershy was not there to be upset with him was most likely the reason for all the flying produce. But unfortunately there wasn’t much Pinkie could do about that, as Fluttershy and Rarity were still half a world away on their honeymoon.

Being a good friend, she had of course promised to make sure to check on Fluttershy’s animal friends daily while the two of them were gone. She shared this chore with Sweetie Belle, who had been by earlier in the morning, but had been unsuccessful in her attempts to enter the house. This was due to the aforementioned silly bunny who seemed to think making his temporary caretakers upset would bring his primary one back more quickly.

Thinking about that for more than a moment threatened to make Pinkie unreasonably sad, so she quickly thought about how happy Angel would be to see Fluttershy again when she did come home. It helped her keep her spirits up when one of the carrots got stuck in her mane and she had to shake it out, then was forced to gather up the bowling ball, tea set, and detective’s hat that tumbled out after it.

It reminded her that she was due to take inventory in there soon. Also, that she hadn’t been bowling in a while.

Angel stuck out his tongue at Pinkie, but he waved off the assault, looking pouty as he did so. Pinkie, not one to be a sore winner, carried the baskets of produce back to the bowls, doling out carrots to everybunny, even adding a little sprig of parsley to Angel’s dish because Fluttershy had insisted it would make him happy. It didn’t seem to be working, but Pinkie knew why, at least.

“I’m really sorry she’s gone, critters. She’ll be back before you know it, Pinkie Swear.”

Angel offered no further response, picking up a carrot and chewing on it with a look of dejection.

Pinkie decided to let him be, reasoning that it was the most positivity she was likely to see from him under the circumstances.

Feeding the rest of the animals in the house proved much easier, and of course Sweetie had already fed the animals outside, though Pinkie did check on them to make sure their water and feed were still full.

She hummed a little tune on the way back to the market. It was one of several thousand songs bouncing around in her head at all times. Most of them didn’t have words, but could easily have them added for the right occasion. Words were for other ponies, of course. Pinkie didn’t need them to know what her songs were about.

This one was about how happy shopping made her, how much she looked forward to combining the ingredients she was buying into foods for Twilight, Celly, and herself to eat, and how it was a little sad that she wasn’t making food for more of her friends, but also of how she looked forward to throwing them welcome home parties soon. She wasn’t entirely sure how she would have put those feelings to words, but she’d done more with less when put on the spot. 

Shopping finished, she pronked home with her saddlebags laden with the fruits she hadn’t found in Twilight’s kitchen, more vegetables for salads, and lots of baking ingredients so that she and Celly could bake together. She had this one she wanted to try with chocolate chips and vanilla and lots of butter and sugar—

She stopped mid-pronk, struck with a curious sensation. She was a mare who could meticulously schedule parties for all of her friends and family. She had dates and times memorized and entire files on everypony she knew, but even she couldn’t necessarily account for every little wrinkle that might happen in a pony’s life. 

The sensation was one she rarely felt, but had come to identify after the fact. A little twinge in the frog of her left hindfoot, and a pinch in her right forearm. It meant she needed to be ready to throw a party a little earlier than she’d planned.

Her feet hit the ground with a dull thud. She didn’t have many parties planned in the near future. There was Berry Punch’s birthday in two weeks, Cheerilee’s the week after that, followed by a whole lot more in the months that followed. 

Really, the only two she had really soon were welcoming home Dashie and Applejack in a few days, then Rarity and Fluttershy the week after...

She gasped, and the little frown that had been finding purchase on her face as she thought fell off into the dust at her feet, to be replaced with one of the biggest smiles she’d sported so far today. 

She couldn’t be sure, because her combo predictions weren’t very exact, but she had a hunch maybe somebunny would get to see his pony sooner than expected.
> Chapter 10: Meetings Of Sun And Moon
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Luna breathed a deep sigh while closing the gate to her garden. 

Figments, she thought wryly. 

As useful as they were for helping to police the dreamscape, they had become rather more rebellious than she was willing to allow. That one, in particular, would need a firm hoof, as it was responsible for one of the most important ponies she had in her life. 

Misbehaving Figments aside, Celestia’s dream posed the most questions on her mind. They had talked at length after her return, and while Celestia had filled her in on many events she’d missed, she had never heard mention of Celestia ever taking on an army by herself. Much less multiple armies.

Battle had always been a point of contention between the two sisters. Luna had ever been the one urging them to the front lines, whereas her sister had preferred the tactician's tent, moving regiments around like her chess pieces. Certainly, her sister was capable of battle, it was not cowardice that stayed her hoof. She simply did not view it in the same way Luna did. For Luna, a battle was expedience. Overwhelming force had worked on the griffons and yaks, after all. But then Sombra’s armies had challenged that philosophy. An army of enslaved ponies did not fear death. Many seemed grateful for it.

She recalled many arguments in those selfsame tactician’s tents. Celestia had been ever the one pointing out weak points in supply lines and defensive structures while Luna proposed direct strikes to the main force to drive them off. Celestia’s plans had an annoying habit of working out, ending the conflict as the opposing force left the battlefield rather than continue to fight on empty bellies. Even a brainwashed pony required food.

Her sister was a wise and thoughtful pony, yet no less brave for that caution. However, when confronted with odds out of her favor, Celestia chose to retreat over a desperate stand. That knowledge was something the Nightmare inside of her had used to great advantage when at last she’d gone completely mad and had decided to slay her sister.

She had to grudgingly admit, in that specific circumstance her sister’s instincts had served her well, as the best outcome of fighting the Nightmare would have been that Luna herself was injured or slain. Though it led to a long incarceration, she was grateful to have not been the victor of that battle.

Figment had mentioned that her sister drew a lot of attention from the dreamscape... That in itself was hardly unexpected, though the news was unwelcome. Luna had witnessed firsthoof as she had taken up her mantle after her return; her realm had experienced a backlash of negative energy that had resulted in countless nightmares. Those nightmares had been born of the rage of Nightmare Moon as she had been banished, imprinted with hate of Celestia. And while Luna had destroyed many of them, apparently many more remained.

Luna frowned thoughtfully as she considered the battle she’d seen Celestia face once more. Nightmares came in all shapes and sizes, and were not necessarily an unhealthy thing. Indeed, such a scene might have been a wonderful time for one such as Luna. Celestia... did not experience the same rush of excitement that Luna did when fighting. Confronted with endless opposition, her sister may well have chosen retreat from dreaming itself as the most logical recourse.

And yet, the mere idea of doing such a thing boggled Luna’s mind. Dreams were vital to a pony’s health. They helped a pony’s mind stay sane, helped the body rest, and were quite enjoyable, under the right circumstances. She could only conjecture at what would happen to a pony who had not allowed herself to dream in so long.

She resolved to send Figment a regiment of its kin to aid in guarding her sister in the future. If Celestia was beset by armies, she would have armies of her own. Perhaps she would enjoy plotting out their movements in her little tent.

“Well, that was something,” Luna said with a breathy exhalation. 

“It was,” Celestia said, simply. She had her back to Luna, having apparently wandered away from the door and into the garden proper. 

Luna opened her mouth to say more, then closed it again. Much as she wished to probe her sister about the dream, Celestia had proven reticent to discuss it in the past, as she had proven evasive about so many things. “So, what worries bid you to seek me out this morning, dear sister?” she said instead.

Celestia had been looking up at the statue of the two of them together, but turned her head as Luna addressed her. “This is lovely,” she said. “Is this where you go when you need rest yourself?”

“Not for many, many years,” a voice replied from the shadows. “Though she has returned more often of late.” 

Night Blossom stepped forth, her form coalescing from the shadows as if she were emerging from a deep fog. “Her dreams were dark, for a time, then featureless, when first she was healing. Now she dreams anew, and this place changes with it.”

Celestia glanced curiously at the unknown pony. “Another figment?” she asked Luna.

“Not exactly,” Luna replied.

“A memory,” Night Blossom answered with an enigmatic smile. “It is good to see you well, Princess Celestia.”

Celestia frowned at Night Blossom, looking for all the world as if she were racking her brain for a name on the tip of her tongue. “A... memory?” she asked finally. Turning to Luna, she tilted her head slightly and said: “I thought all of the other beings in our dreams were figments?”

“Think of me as a hoofprint in the sand of Luna’s mind, Princess,” Night Blossom replied with a coy smile. “I’m certainly nopony of import anymore, I merely tend the garden here. You, however, are very important... it’s nice to see you here.”

“It’s nice to be here,” Celestia replied somewhat automatically. She frowned for a moment longer. “I just wish I could—”

“She was Luna’s gardener,” Astra announced suddenly. “They were very close.”

“Ah!” Celestia said with evident relief. “Yes, that was it! Blossom... something or other.”

“Night Blossom,” Astra supplied.

“That was it!” Celestia said, clapping her hooves in delight. “Yes, I recall now. Very skilled. She died of old age.” Celestia turned to Luna, smiling. “You remember her in this way. That’s very sweet.”

Luna had silently watched the exchange, uncertain of how she could even respond. She’d already shared her tale of Night Blossom with Fancy and Fleur, and as such, it had been easy to explain her presence in Luna’s dream to them. 

She’d always wondered if her sister knew just how close the two of them had been. She didn’t blame Celestia for not knowing, of course. Their lives had been quite literally as night and day, with little overlap in between. How was Celestia to have known when Luna herself had taken pains to hide it? 

But she had hoped that her sister did know, and had tacitly approved. Being disabused of that notion hurt.

Despite this, Luna smiled gently, as she would when addressing a child who had at least tried their best. “Yes, Blossom was... very special to me, and remains so. But surely you didn’t seek me out to ask me about my garden.”

“I remember now... she was your shieldmare as well...” Celestia said in a quiet voice. “You never seemed to... connect with any of the rest of your servants. But her... her you liked.”

Celestia walked around Night Blossom, observing her from all angles. She stopped, and nodded decisively. “We’ll erect a statue in her honor.”

Luna sighed heavily. “Tia, not another statue—”

“Not a large one!” Celestia said quickly. “Something tasteful. A memorial.”

“She already has one in my old garden,” Luna replied sullenly. 

“Perhaps a window, then?” Celestia said hopefully.

“I think Blossom might have liked a window overlooking the garden,” Night Blossom interjected with a mischievous smile.

“The new garden is further from the castle than the old one was,” Luna replied irritably. “There aren’t any windows facing it which could properly be seen from the garden.”

“Perhaps a memorial toolshed?” Blossom grinned with no hint of remorse.

Celestia nodded with a smile. “You know, I don’t usually get to discuss these things with the departed. It’s very convenient!”

Luna rubbed at one of her temples, feeling a migraine starting to form. “We will discuss the matter at length, Tia. Please, let it go for the moment.”

“In fairness, Blossom has been gone from this world for many centuries. Another memorial is not a pressing matter,” Night Blossom said with a polite lowering of her head. “She would have appreciated the thought, however.”

Celestia’s brow furrowed, but she did not press the matter further, thankfully. “All right,” she said, sitting down on the cool stone path. “As you said, I didn’t seek you out to see your lovely garden,” she nodded to Blossom, who flashed her a smile in return. “I... I need your help, sister.”

Luna nodded judiciously, “I had surmised as much. Is your recovery continuing apace?”

“Better than I had expected,” Celestia replied. “I can manage some small things, now. I even dared to don a disguise to venture out amongst the citizens of Ponyville, and was met with no small measure of success.”

“A disguise?” Luna asked, confused. “For what reason would you need to be disguised, Tia?”

“If I may...” Night Blossom interjected. “A memorial toolshed could have a window, could it not?”

“Oh! Yes, if it were big enough—” Celestia replied with a smile.

“Fine!” Luna exclaimed. “I will construct a grand toolshed, the likes of which the world has never seen!” She flung her hooves skyward. “The gilded tools will have hafts encrusted with jewels! It will have finely crafted stone pillars, a giant stained glass window depicting you watering the garden in full plate armor, and above the doorway, it will read ‘Night Blossom Memorial Toolshed’.” Luna said with a roll of her eyes. “Will that suffice?”

Night Blossom smiled widely. “I think that might do.”

“Also, you were fairly certain Luna was sleeping with her,” Astra said after a moment or two of Luna glaring at Night Blossom. “You found them to be adorable together.”

Celestia’s eyes lit up with remembered excitement. “Oh my sun, that’s right! I was so happy for you, Luna! Goodness... that was so long ago...”

Luna closed her eyes, taking another deep breath as she rubbed at the bridge of her nose. “You knew?” she asked Celestia.

“I... suspected,” Celestia admitted. “You always seemed so happy when you went to the garden. You... weren’t happy most of the time, back then. Then it got so much worse after she passed...” she trailed off with a haunted look. “I’ve had some very good servants over the years, and having one pass is always hard, even when they’ve trained a son or daughter to replace themselves...”

“She was... much more than merely a good servant, to me,” Luna said solemnly. “I will never know her like again.”

“Surely you can visit her here?” Celestia asked gently.

“The Blossom you see is but a shade, Princess Celestia,” Night Blossom replied, looking crestfallen. “The Blossom that was no longer exists, and all that remains are memories of what was.”

“I fear she would have been most disappointed to see what became of me,” Luna said quietly.

“Blossom would have happily watched the world burn to be at your side, Princess Luna,” the shade said, a note of finality in her voice. “You were... are... everything to her.” 

“Or apparently I would have corrupted her alongside me!” Luna said with a wince. 

“To be fair,” Blossom replied, “Blossom only cared about you, to begin with. The world was not a concern of hers, only you, and the things you loved.”

“Unconditional love is so refreshing,” remarked Astra. “It’s truly the greatest gift one pony can give another, even if it’s a bit of a burden as well.” she thought for a moment, then amended: “Well, it’s a burden if you care about the pony giving the love. More so if you return it.”

“I cared, and returned it one thousandfold,” Luna said fervently. 

“Blossom knew, and reveled in it,” Blossom replied, trotting over to Luna and giving her a chaste peck on the cheek. She turned to Princess Celestia and gave another sweeping bow. “Forgive me, Princess. As you said, you did not come to talk of ancient history.”

“I didn’t, but I don’t mind,” Celestia replied. “I only regret not having gotten to know you properly while you were alive.”

Luna shook her head, saying: “You’re going to tease me about this, aren’t you?”

“Endlessly,” Astra confirmed.

“Why? Because you took the gardener as your secret lover?” Celestia replied with faux innocence. “Maybe just a little.”

Luna groaned. “Just... tell me how I can help you, Tia.”





Twilight Sparkle was reasonably pleased.

She had a plan. Not a perfect plan, but a plan.

Of course, the mere idea of a perfect plan was a fallacy to begin with, what with all the variables that living in a world of unpredictable ponies could bring, and that was before even beginning to attempt to account for the bundle of pink random that was her sweet but somewhat maddening marefriend.

Despite knowing all of this, she had been worried about any plan she made being as perfect as possible. Infatuation did odd things to her, apparently.

Thankfully, Celestia had been nice enough to show her that her attempts to avoid flaws were, in themselves, flaws. And so, despite the new plan seeming incredibly flawed, it was perfect for Pinkie.

Which was what she’d been striving for all along. 

She felt a deep sense of relaxation as she absent-mindedly sorted and shelved books in the library’s romance section. The preceding weeks had been full of preparation for Fluttershy and Rarity’s wedding, then planning and more planning for her own upcoming date with Pinkie Pie. Finally settling on a plan for the latter was also being able to check off a tick on her mental checklist that had been nagging at her for all of that time.

Pass or fail, she was as prepared as she was going to get. Now. she only had to wait, and show Pinkie a good time when the time came.

Her front door swung open, and she was reminded of another tick that needed checking: replace the lock on the front door.

“Twilight!” a pink blur announced milliseconds later.

Twilight had just enough time to brace herself with a quick bonding spell she had prepared for just such an occasion. It made her hooves stick firmly to the wooden floor and prevented what could have been the two of them tumbling end over end into the bookshelves.

It had only taken Twilight one time reshelving the entire chemistry section to commit that particular spell to memory, and twice before she began preparing it on any given day Pinkie might arrive without notice. As much as she enjoyed sorting, between Dash’s crashes and Pinkie’s Pinkieness, the book bindings couldn’t take much more abuse.

She made a note to research spells for binding repair, just in case.

“They’re coming home!” Pinkie said into Twilight’s ear as she hugged her closely.

“Who is?” Twilight asked quite reasonably. She forbore asking the second question that came to mind, which was of course how Pinkie knew. The last time she had, Pinkie had told her, and Twilight had needed a long soak in the tub and some willow bark pills to rid herself of the resulting stress headache.

“Well, it’s either Fluttershy and Rarity or Rainbow and Applejack.” Pinkie replied after a moment. “Either that or I’ve gotten somepony’s birthday way off and I don’t think it’s that. And I don’t think it’s a new party event either, since that would have been my left knee instead,” she nodded. “Yeah, it’s gotta be them.”

Twilight nodded slowly. “All right. That’s unexpected, but hardly unwelcome.”

“I need your help,” Pinkie added expectantly.

“My help?” Twilight asked. “I mean, of course, but what did you need?”

“Well, I know one of our two sets of friends is coming home early, so I need to get a welcome home party party-ready, but I’m not sure which pair is coming home first, and Applejack and Rainbow have very different party preferences to Rarity and Fluttershy. Thing is... I could use a hoof trying to come up with a party that would make either couple happy?” Pinkie stepped back, letting Twilight detach herself from the floor and settle herself comfortably while they talked.

Twilight hesitated for a moment before admitting: “I thought your parties were all more or less the same.”

Pinkie laughed, finishing with an adorable little giggle-snort. “No! I mean, most of the parties you’ve been to are the same, because those are Dashie-Jackie-Rare-Twi-Shy parties! But remember twelve weeks, two days, and six hours ago when Fluttershy couldn’t make it because Angel had a cold?”

Twilight, after some thought, did vaguely recall something about Angel being sick. “Sure?”

“Well, for that one, I moved the table to make more room for the hoof-wrassling that Applejack and Rainbow did later that night.” Pinkie said, holding up a single hoof. “Normally I need to leave a corner of the room open for Fluttershy to go to when she’s feeling a little overwhelmed and needs a moment to catch her breath, and Rainbow tries not to be quite as rowdy when she’s there because she knows Shy gets worried about her. Also, I serve a different punch,” she said, holding up a second hoof. “Different cake,” she said, holding up a third. “And I have different party games,” she finished, holding up her fourth hoof for a long moment before putting them all down at once.

Twilight’s left eye twitched almost imperceptibly before she closed both eyes and took a deep breath. As much as she adored Pinkie, there were times when she felt like she stood at the precipice of the abyss and just watched as it grinned at her. During those times her brain howled at her to make sense of the world that contained a creature like Pinkie. She’d come to recognize those moments as being both unproductive and unkind to Pinkie, who could not help her own nature any more than she could explain it.

“All right,” she said, doing her best to emulate the tones of infinite patience she always remembered Celestia using after Twilight had destroyed something especially expensive. “How can I help?”

Pinkie pulled a small chalkboard out of her hair, followed by a collapsible easel. From her tail, she produced a professor’s cap, and playfully batted the tassel around before adopting a serious look. “First. We’ll need to decide how Celly changes the flow of the party. I need you to tell me everything about what she likes and dislikes,” she tapped another section of the chalkboard meaningfully. “Then we need to make models of how Applejack and Rainbow’s needs compare to Rarity and Fluttershy’s needs and see how to fit either within an acceptable margin. Also, balloons. So many balloons.”




“I’m sorry,” Rarity said, blinking at the griffin behind the desk. “Could you please explain that again?”

Rarity had encountered relatively few members of the griffin race in her life, and because of that, she wasn’t entirely certain if she was merely having bad luck with individuals, or if some traits held true as a rule. Her dealings with them thus far had led her to come to the conclusion that she would encounter, by and large, a somewhat grumpy creature, prone to sudden fits of anger. Consequently, she tended to walk on eggshells when she was interacting with one. It had served her well so far.

Gretchen, as the nametag proclaimed this griffin to be, was a breath of fresh air that made Rarity wonder if perhaps it was only the griffins in and around Equestria that were so disagreeable by nature. She was a bright-eyed and friendly creature with well-groomed plumage of vibrant colors. Just looking at her made Rarity wish to take out her sketchbook to jot down some ideas for hats.

All of this was made more frustrating by what Gretchen was saying in a cheery tone.

“I said there really isn’t a way to get you two home any sooner,” Gretchen repeated. “Sorry.”

Rarity pointed out in the direction of the shipyard. There were two airships in the dock, one being made ready for a trip back to Equestria, another having clearly arrived recently that was being unloaded. “Surely we could find room on either of those?” she asked. “I understand our booking isn’t for another week but I wasn’t expecting first class if we can’t manage that.”

“I’m afraid both of those ships are booked to capacity,” Gretchen replied. She tapped the reservation book on her desk. “I do have a flight bound for Stalliongrad in four days—”

“We need Manehatten, Gretchen. Stalliongrad would add another day’s worth of train travel to our trip.” Rarity interjected.

“Well, that would be a little better,” Gretchen said. “Other than that we’d have to book you by train or ship. Those are much easier to get this time of year.”

Rarity frowned, dreading what she suspected she was about to hear. “I’m going to guess those aren’t terribly fast.”

Gretchen nodded. “By ship, you’d arrive two days after you would have if you waited for your original booking. The train isn’t much better, you can only travel so far along the coast before you have to take a ship at least part of the way. We could get you to another airship port, but I couldn’t tell you ahead of time if there are even seats to be had on those flights. This time of year, it’s virtually guaranteed you won’t find an opening.” 

Rarity frowned unhappily. “Perhaps one of the passengers would be willing to accept compensation for a later booking?” she asked hopefully.

Gretchen smiled wider, much to Rarity's discomfort. Beaks evidently weren't made for smiling. "I'd be happy to ask, Ma'am, but these flights are booked months in advance by creatures with busy lives and schedules. While it isn't really for me to say how they'll respond, I imagine that they would be less than happy. You wouldn't wish such uncomfortable encounters on the airship personnel, would you?" 

The beak stretched a little wider, so wide it made the small hairs on the back of Rarity’s neck stand on end. Ponies were not confronted with predators very often, but some things were instinctual. "No, I suppose not," she said quickly, sheepishly rubbing the back of her neck.

Gretchen’s smile relaxed somewhat, becoming more genuine and less strained. “All I could recommend is that you check back tomorrow morning. We do a headcount on all passengers several hours before boarding, and if someone hasn’t presented themselves we might be able to find space for you.”

Rarity nodded, flashing Gretchen a grateful smile. “I appreciate your efforts on my behalf, and I am sorry to be a bother.”

“Not at all, ma’am,” Gretchen replied. “You just asked a few questions. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you more satisfactory answers.”

Turning away from Gretchen (who, despite the slight tension they’d just experienced, had done wonders for her overall opinion of griffins) Rarity left the office to deliver the sad news to Fluttershy. Despite being unable to book earlier passage, she took solace in the fact that they were no worse off, at least.

She made her way back to the restaurant within the airship port terminal, finding Fluttershy in short order. It wasn’t a very large establishment, serving sandwiches and gelato to travelers who were either just arriving or preparing to disembark on their respective journeys. There was even a bar for those who wanted to make their passage a little less coherent or begin their revelry before they entered Mareis.

Fluttershy perked up when she saw Rarity, standing and waving her over excitedly. Rarity followed the beckons, a big smile on her face, which faltered slightly when she saw her wife had a companion. He was a large earth pony, with a grey coat and a black mane, and a cutiemark that Rarity supposed was some sort of wheel.

She took a dislike to him rather immediately.

She chided herself almost instantly. Making companions of fellow travelers was common enough, and just because Fluttershy’s new friend appeared to be a strapping older stallion with a gentle smile and a deep soothing voice was no reason to be in any way wary of him.

“Rarity!” Fluttershy said as she rushed over and kissed Rarity excitedly. “You have to meet my friend!”

Rarity embraced Fluttershy, just forgetting the world for a moment or two while she reveled in it. Then she slapped on a tight-lipped faux smile that she saved for clients she fully expected to hate. “A pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“Rough Seas, ma’am,” the stallion said, “That being my name, that is. You must be the Rarity Miss Shy been gushin’ about.” 

Rarity’s tight-lipped smile got just a little tighter. “Missus,” she corrected him. “We’re here on our honeymoon.”

“Oh!” he replied. “And where be the lucky Misters?”

Rarity closed her eyes and counted to a sufficiently high number before she replied. “There are none, Mister Seas.”

“Captain, actually,” he said with a chuckle. “Though I don’t think I’ll be sailing again for a time.” he paused, giving her an appraising look. “Meaning no offense about the mister's comment, ma’am. Nothing wrong with that, mind, but two pretty things such as yourselves, I just assumed.”

Rarity nodded curtly, allowing herself to calm down just a little. He couldn’t have known, after all. “No harm done, Captain.”

Captain Seas smiled wider, “Allow me to buy you fine ladies a drink, to toast your marriage and all.” He got up and went to the bar, pointing at a bottle and asking for glasses. 

Rarity sat down at the table, slumping back into the chair. “We may as well,” she turned to Fluttershy as she sat down as well. “It doesn’t look like we’re going to be going much of anywhere ourselves for a bit, darling. We might have to see if the hotel already rebooked our room.”

“They didn’t have any openings?” Fluttershy asked, looking crestfallen.

Rarity shook her head. “Perhaps tomorrow morning, if someone doesn’t arrive for check-in. But it’s a small hope. Bookings are quite full this time of year.”

Captain Seas returned with his prize, and poured out three glasses of champagne. “There we are!” he said, lifting a glass in salute. “To your health and happiness, lasses.”

Rarity smiled despite herself, deciding that first impressions weren’t all that they were cracked up to be. “And to yours as well,” she said, tapping her glass to Fluttershy’s and the Captain’s glasses before downing her own in one long draught. She set it down with a sigh of satisfaction. “Yes, that helps a bit.”

“So, you two be stranded here as well, eh?” The Captain asked as he poured another round.

“Well, not stranded, per se.” Rarity admitted. “We had originally planned on a two weeks stay.”

“I asked if we could maybe go home early, then come back,” Fluttershy said. “I just... I have animals, and I worry—”

“Perhaps it’s for the best, darling,” Rarity said as she took a more demure sip from her second glass. “We can still use our return tickets in a week, and while we might need a new hotel room, I’m certain we can find one with relative ease.”

“Ah, that’s a shame,” Captain Seas said. “Me, I’m stuck waiting for my ‘Bonny Sue’ to get patched up. The gas up top started leaking on our way here. We made it into port but she won’t fly until I get her patched good and proper.”

“The griffin at the counter was nice enough, but I got the strong impression she might bite me if I tried to bribe one of her passengers for their tick—” Rarity stopped, her ears perking up by sudden interest. She turned from Fluttershy back to their new friend. “I’m sorry, did you say your ship was leaking air just now?”

“Gas, ma’am. So it can float in the air, you see.”

“So your ‘Bonny Sue’—”

“Be an airship, aye,” The captain said. “She did no’ used to be. But some smart lads in Equestria hit on the idea of taking sound sailing vessels and adding some bits and ropes and engines and then they fly, so now I sail the skies.” he sighed heavily, pouring himself another drink. “Except my ‘Sue’ won’t fly until we finish repairs. So I be stuck here. Still, I meet nice travelers, and the food’s good. Not all bad,” he held up his glass in silent salute before emptying it again. 

“Repairs...” Rarity repeated. “Tell me, how long will that take?”

“May take a while. The crew here is mostly for fueling and unloading. Major repairs usually are no’ needed.” Captain Seas frowned and spat into his empty glass. “Ran afoul of pirates. Wanted me cargo. Chased em off but they hooked a couple harpoons into the bag. Left big holes when they scuttled off.”

“So... the only thing keeping you from flying is some mending,” Rarity mused, a smile growing on her lips. She looked at Fluttershy, seeing understanding in her wife’s eyes, and enthusiastic agreement.

“It don’t be so simple,” the Captain protested. “We need materials, and workponies—”

“Um... Captain...” Fluttershy said. “If you can tell me what you need, we can get it for you...”

“And I’m certain if I myself cannot mend your ship, we can find you workponies to do so,” Rarity added. 

Rough Seas looked back and forth between the two of them. “Lasses, this do no be your problem. My ship will be fixed soon enough...”

“Or, you could let us lend you a hoof, and in exchange, you could go a bit out of your way on your return trip to Equestria.” Rarity replied smoothly. “We’re trying to get to a little town near Canterlot.”

“We were bound for Canterlot next,” The Captain mused. “Spices and tea, you see.”

“I’d be happy to pay you for passage, too,” Fluttershy added. 

The Captain looked doubtful, offering: “My ‘Sue’ no be a speedy ship like these gals in dock that take the tourists back and forth. ‘Sue’ be an honest working ship, and surely too messy for you fine lasses.”

“Can you provide us with a little privacy and get us to Ponyville in under a week?” Rarity asked with a smirk.

“Well, depending on repairs, and loading cargo... two to three days, I would say,” the Captain said, tapping his chin. “And if you be paying for passage after already helping with repairs, I can have you stay in me own cabin while I bunk with the boys.” 

Rarity shared a look with Fluttershy, who simply nodded. “All right, Captain. I believe we have a deal.”

The Captain shook his head. “We do no’ have a deal quite yet, but that’s mended easier than my ship.” He spat on his hoof, extending it forward.

Rarity hesitated for the briefest of moments before spitting on her own hoof and clasping it to his. “Right, a bargain is struck. Now, let’s begin with materials you’ll need, then have a look at those holes.”
> Chapter 11: On The Importance of Regular Meals
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Luna closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

As much as she admired her sister, she could be so very dramatic at times. “And this was really the only way you could think of to speak with me?”

Celestia smiled, a look of gratitude on her face. “Of course not, but I thought it would impress upon you just how much it would mean to me if you were to help. I know the zoo animals may be a little over the top, but...”

Luna raised a single hoof, shaking her head. “I understand. Of course I’ll help. ”

“Well, I wasn’t planning to do anything more drastic than— wait, you will?”

“Celestia, a simple dragonfire letter would have been enough for this. I understand how much she...” she paused for a second. “They, mean to you. What eludes me is why you think your meddling is required. All I ever hear is how proud you are of Twilight’s self-reliance. What’s different this time?

“I wasn’t meddling... precisely?” Celestia offered with a weak smile.

“You just wish to observe,” Luna said.

“Yes.”

“And meddle only if necessary,” Luna said with a roll of her eyes.

“...Yes,” Celestia replied after a moment.

“So the zoo animals are... what exactly?” Luna said with as bland a face as she could manage.

“Well...” Celestia made a gesture with her hoof. “Right now, Twilight is too focused on her relationship with Pinkie, and I fear my presence hasn’t helped. I thought that perhaps if she had some sort of challenge to focus her attention on it might make her feel more confident and relaxed afterwards,” she said, growing more quiet with each successive syllable.

Luna said nothing for some time, finally nodding. “That actually made a fair amount more sense than I’d thought. Still a bit unhinged, but less so than I had supposed. Rest assured, I’ll make sure that Twilight receives a suitable challenge to bolster her confidence.”

“I was rather hoping for at least a manticore...” Celestia said softly, frowning momentarily before she nodded, “That’s fine. I’ll leave it in your hooves.”

“And you’ll want a full report?” Luna asked after a moment. “Is that why you wanted the nearest spy?”

“Well, yes... but...” Celestia leaned in closer to Luna, prompting Luna to do the same. “I’m going out of my mind with boredom just sitting around the library and reading. But I can’t just go outside or there will be questions and possibly headlines about why I’m in this state, and I just cannot deal with any of that right now. So I could use a bit of help with a foolproof disguise.”

Luna considered that for a moment. “I see. And you haven’t tried transformation magic because—”

“It still takes too much out of me. I need something of a more practical nature. I did manage a minor illusion on my horn, though. I spent the day being a pegasus. It was nice.”

“A pegasus?” Luna asked. “I would have thought unicorn to be preferable.”

“The wings are harder to hide.” Astra piped up from between the two of them. “She did her mane and tail up nice and put on a dress from the old castle. We called her Aurora! She was so pretty!”

“I see...” Luna replied, only now becoming aware of the strangeness of speaking with a schism of Celestia’s personality within a dream of her old garden even while the magical imprint of her long dead lover gazed over Celestia’s shoulder at Luna with a look of pure amusement.

Celestia, apparently not bothered at all by any of the oddities all around her, or perhaps so mentally exhausted from everything she’d gone through to get to Luna to begin with, went on: “Besides that, transformation leaves lingering traces. I am quite sure that magic on that magnitude would make me stand out more to Twilight than wearing a complete clown suit would.” 

The Dream Realm, being a nebulous, malleable place, could almost be called consciously capricious at moments. Luna experienced one such moment as her sister, upon saying these words, blurred for a moment to reemerge dressed in baggy yellow pants, a bright green shirt complete with fake flower (which Luna knew would squirt water if appropriately triggered) her mane restyled into a shocking giant ball of flowing color, and a large red bulb at the end of her snout.

Luna suppressed a giggle, but did not quite resist the urge to reach out with her magic and tweak the red orb, which let out a satisfyingly loud honk.

Celestia was speechless for a moment, then fell back on her haunches, staring at the bulb as if it was a poisonous insect and pawing at her nose, thereby smearing the bright red smile she’d had painted on her muzzle. She kept at it for a scant few seconds before giving up with a defeated huff. “I hate this place.”

Luna smiled gently, reaching out with a hoof and releasing a wave of magic through that touch to restore her sister’s former visage. “I’m sorry, Tia.”

“It hates me.” Celestia said, getting back up and trying to regain some semblance of dignity. 

“Dreams are... what you make of them,” Luna said after a moment. “I... I know more than many, but even I do not fully comprehend them. I merely try to aid where I can.”

“You have your talent for it,” Celestia said sullenly. “This place is so much more difficult than the moon was, and that was like wrestling an Ursa Major.”

“Because you don’t wrest the moon around, you guide it—” Luna stopped, taking a breath before continuing. “Forgive me, Tia. It’s easy to forget how it is when you don’t have the talent. Your own sun plagues me each morn.”

Celestia chuckled. “It’s like trying to pull the covers from a stubborn foal. That’s why I do it quickly, before it starts grumbling.”

“I did that, and it was noon for several hours!” Luna exclaimed irritably.

“You overshot, I had that happen a couple times myself... during your time away.” Celestia replied with a knowing look. “The history books marked those days as ‘odd Celestial events’.” She leaned forward again, and spoke in a whisper: “I did it with the moon once or twice too. We had to rebuild parts of Baltimare and Manehatten because of the resulting tidal wave. Thankfully this was back when those were still fishing villages so we didn’t lose anypony, although we had to rescue a few ships swept out of dock from their moorings.”

“You overslept?” Luna said, her face a mask of disbelief.

“I... the first century or two were hard, Luna. I don’t remember very much of what happened, just that I depleted most of the country’s stocks of wine and hard cider. I’m fairly certain I was hungover for a good twenty years when I was finally coaxed to stop by some ponies who cared more about me than their own lives.”

Luna was silent for some time before Celestia added: “But it was worth it. All of it. You’re back, and you’re you again.” She smiled quickly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get maudlin on you. I think too much when I’m not busy.”

Luna nodded, her eyes still widened in shock. Perhaps it was the unreality of this place, or Celestia’s admitted feelings of isolation during her enforced recovery, but hearing her sister open up about anything that had happened immediately after the Nightmare had been banished was incredibly rare. She was grateful to have heard even this much, and while she might have pushed for more, she felt doing so might make matters worse. “Well,” she said, throwing a foreleg around her sister’s shoulders. “I suppose we should help you get to that important business of not-meddling, eh?”

“Luna...” Celestia said with an exasperated tone.

“What? You’re allowed to poke fun at my lover from ages ago and I cannot even rib you about the two you’re considering taking under your wing?” Luna replied, looking wounded.

“What about the two you have your eyes on?” Astra piped up with wide eyed innocence.

“Which two?” Luna said with a little smirk.

Celestia looked at Luna in surprise. “Sister... what have you been up to?”

“She’s started a harem.” Night Blossom said from behind Luna’s shoulder.

Luna stomped her rear hoof into the stone path, making one of the stones crack in its wake. “I have not started a harem!” 

“Fleur De Lis has decided to build one for her, and Fancy Pants has agreed to join as well.”

“None of these things are true!” Luna exclaimed. She paused, took a breath, and added: “Well, not entirely true. I named the Dame and Knight as my consorts and plan to announce them as such publically, as is my will. As de facto monarch my will is law, none shall gainsay me.”

“Fleur De Lis will most definitely build her a harem.” Night Blossom repeated. “She has already begun preparing a list of prospects ready to meet Princess Luna.”

“She told me she was only considering who to ask!” Luna all-but-shouted.

“That is what she told you, yes. The times you’ve been chatting with her over wine she’s been asking you questions about your likes and dislikes. Especially detailed questions that wouldn’t normally come up in casual conversation... She has been taking notes. For several months now she has been adding to, and refining a list of candidates, and is ready to begin the ‘interviews’ given but a hint of interest on your part. The harem will include a mix of stallions and mares, and I believe she may even have found a yak that might—”

Night Blossom froze in place midword, looking for all the world like one of Celestia’s statues.

Luna said nothing for a long moment, finally turning from Night Blossom to face her sister once more.

“Luna, I—” Celestia began. 

“Not a word, Tia.” Luna said tersely.

“I was just going to say there is nothing particularly wrong with you having a harem. Platinum had one, as I recall—”

“Platinum was a debauched harlot and we both know it.”

Celestia merely looked at her sister with an askew grin that all but screamed ‘if the horseshoe fits.’

“It’s not just about having a choice of partners.” Luna said defensively. 

“Luna, you really don’t have to justify—”

“She’s quite smitten with Fleur.” Night Blossom said, this time from behind Celestia’s shoulder. “Though Fancy is rapidly gaining her favor. He is a very skilled and considerate lover, if somewhat more inhibited than she would like.”

“Why are you still moving?!” Luna demanded. 

“I am a part of your magic, Princess.” Night Blossom said matter-of-factorily. “You could no more stop me than you could stop your own heart.”

“Then why did you stop when I willed it?”

“I was being polite.”

“Then could you please be silent once more?” Luna asked with a pout.

“If that’s what you truly wanted, certainly.” Night Blossom replied, looking completely unrepentant. “I’m not doing anything you don’t secretly want me to, Luna, if only so you can hide behind this deception of having your secrets spilled for you. Your heart wishes to proclaim your love for all to see and hear. And so, I will do what little I can to aid in that.”

“Ha!” Astra crowed. “It would be so much easier living in Luna’s head. But then, I suppose I’d never have been needed. I don’t think you’ve denied yourself anything in your life.”

Luna frowned, thinking for a long moment. “Honestly, I wouldn’t see the point. If you desire something, you attempt to attain it. If it’s denied to you, you earn it by deed or favour. If it cannot be earned, you put it out of mind. Unless it belongs to a foe, in which case aggression is always an option. I’ve started wars over the trade rights to certain foods.”

“She denied herself the pleasure of her Fleur’s company for some time, fearing she was a homewrecker.” Night Blossom intoned quietly. “And in so doing nearly made it a reality.”

“There was no such thing! The two of them are as thick as thieves.” Luna spluttered.

Night Blossom replied with a smile. “I was merely teasing, Luna. Though you did cause poor Fleur some distress with your antics.”

“I already apologized to both of them for the misunderstanding,” Luna said quickly. “I was not to know those idiots would sack their home and bundle them up like so many potatoes in a bag. I merely needed them brought to a neutral location away from prying eyes under cover of darkness.”

“Luna... what did you do?” Celestia asked quietly.

“She hired the Black Hoof to bring Fancy Pants and Fleur De Lis to her.” Night Blossom said matter-of-factually. “Really, she’s lucky they didn’t bring her their heads on a silver platter.”

“I would have razed their organization to the last had they harmed either of them beyond what they did.” Luna said, seething in remembered rage. “I very nearly did regardless.” 

Celestia quirked an eyebrow. "Have they really stooped to full-on kidnappings? I'd told them to do just enough to make it look legitimate. Or... illegitimate, as it were."

“They claimed that what I asked was not quite what they normally did, but I explained that my need was great, that I would make it worth their while to do my will. When that proved not enough to convince them, I told them that I would not look kindly on their future existence in the realm, and further that I might take it personally. They were more willing after that.”

“Wait, what do you mean you told them?” Celestia asked, dumbfounded. “They are a clandestine order of assassins, you don’t speak to them so much as you place a request in a hollow of a dead tree along with a sum of gold.”

“I mean that I sought them out in their dreams and bade them to meet me at an abandoned home some distance from the castle.” Luna replied succinctly. “It seemed more expedient.”

Celestia stood, pacing back and forth in sudden and apparent agitation. “Luna, what did you do? They aren’t supposed to be utilized in that fashion! I mean, I have had them perform a kidnapping or two in the past, but normally only to save the life of somepony who would otherwise be killed by other less reputable assassins.”

Luna tilted her head to one side, a small frown on her face. “You... know of these ponies?”

“Yes!” Celestia said vehemently. “I’ve been their de facto leader for some eight centuries, ever since they attempted to kill me in my sleep after an especially long drunken stupor. Some of the nobles thought it might be easier to just kill me and go back to the old ways of having groups of unicorns take care of the sun, even if that happens to be especially fatal for those without alicorn stamina. I was a little upset at the time, and I’m fairly certain I banished the lot of them to Tartarus until I got over the hangover.” She shook her head. “The nobles, I mean. The Black Hoof I presented with a simple choice; work for me, or... well, I guess it wasn’t much of a choice, honestly. They seemed rather enamored with the idea of not upsetting me further. I later learned that I was... am... a bit of an angry and violent drunk.”

“This explains much,” Luna replied, reflecting on barely heard exchanges in hissed undertone as the Black Hoof had discussed her request. They’d mentioned the ‘dark sister’, which Luna had long been used to, but they seemed equally fearful of the ‘light’, if not more so. The idea that they feared Celestia more than they feared her had struck her as odd. She’d put it down to some sort of political pressure Celestia had exerted on their order sometime in the past, but Celestia’s explanation made the whispers, and especially the nightmares, make a lot more sense.

“They’ve been mine for centuries, I’ve had them build up a mystique about themselves. They’re nearly as much legend as you yourself were, and you had them fetching and serving for you...” Celestia said with an incredulous look.

“What? Can’t your little sister play with your toys?” Luna demanded with a mocking grin. “They didn’t seem to mind so very much, after I’d paid them instead of crushing them to a fine paste.”

Celestia smiled, though it was no genuine smile but rather one she might give to a dignitary who had just unwittingly insulted her. “Not toys, Luna. They are tools, lovingly crafted and honed in word and deed. Ponies are not even entirely sure they truly exist, and yet—

“And yet you call me obsessed,” Astra interjected with a roll of her eyes.

“Tia,” Luna said, infusing as much patience and love in her voice as she could muster. “I had need of tools, and mayhap this was not as they were meant to be used, yet they functioned. Will you forgive your poor sister for her ignorance?”

Looking torn, Celestia chewed on her lip for a long moment, before sighing and bowing her head. “Of course, Luna. Just have a care how you use them in the future. I’ve only called on them a hoof full of times in the centuries since I demanded their allegiances, and only at great need.”

“So, they are to be used sparingly. Understood,” Luna said, wisely omitting that Fleur had already turned them into her own clandestine delivery service. A fact they seemed more than fine with, come to think of it. Celestia did not need to know every little thing. “It’s fine. Should I ever feel the need to end somepony’s life, I shall do so personally.”

“Luna, please don’t say things like that,” Celestia replied, looking worried.

“I’m not saying anypony in particular, although I do still have a list if you’d like to—”

“We are not culling the aristocracy, Luna,” Celestia said firmly.

“Fine fine. Though I am told culling can be a healthy thing, what with the removal of dead or otherwise useless parts making the whole stronger. But failing that, I can presently think of nopony in particular I would end. Is that fair?”

Celestia nodded slowly. 

“Fine, then we proceed as follows: I shall plan for a minor challenge to Twilight to bolster her confidence as you wished. You shall get in contact with whichever operative we have working in Ponyville—”

“Luna, I need a name. Even I don’t know all of them. They mostly just blend into society, that’s why I’d like some help with my disguise.”

“I shall get you a name. Midnight will surely be aware of your spymaster, he will give us a contact you can trust. Are these plans pleasing to you?”

Celestia sighed heavily. “Yes, that will work. Message me with the name when you have one.”

“Very well, sister. We’ll be in touch with dragon mail shortly. Till then, get your rest, and get plenty of sun,” Luna got up and embraced her sister fondly. “And do not fear, your dreams will be restful from now on, even if I have to reshape large swaths of the Dream Realm myself.”





Luna emerged from the Dream Realm after having seen her sister safely off to finishing her dream, posting several of her Dream Selves within reach if Figment reported any more nightmare activity. 

Having settled that, she took a moment to look herself over, noting the time as being around midday.

Being up around these hours had a certain sense of unreality to her. It was far too bright for her tastes, ponies seemed much too chipper in their general demeanor. She glared balefully at the windows and wondered if there might be some way to make the sun less bright, and if that would cause a panic.

The answers to which are likely ‘no’ and ‘yes’, Luna thought with resignation. Though the idea of perhaps placing a barrier between herself and the sun bore some merit. Perhaps if there could be a localized storm system stationed just above the city... Something to ask Cloudsdale about.

Beyond that, her options were less good, as magically blinding herself seemed likely to cause problems. Though she imagined she could still make her way around by using a variant of echolocation, as it was how she was able to get around while in mist form.

Something else to ask Middy about, she thought with grim determination. Not the blinding herself part, as she could obviously do that herself if she so chose. Beyond the storm and blinding herself, there was also the option of static spells in all of the rooms of the castle to absorb light, although that could result in effectively blinding the entire castle for lack of visible light by which to see.

Troublesome, Luna thought, letting out a sigh. The more she gave it thought, the more she was drawn to the idea of simply extending the evening hours so that the world did not have to be so very bright during the hours she had to keep in her sister’s stead.

She shook the idea off just as quickly, not wanting to risk another mass panic.

Although... if I gradually increased the night and shortened the day, and explained my plans to the populace... perhaps then... I’ll ask Middy about that, too. Perhaps he’ll be less grumpy about the eternal storm if I pitch longer nights or darkening the castle first... baby steps.

She nodded at the mirror, satisfied with what she saw. The mare who looked back was somewhat the worse for wear, having gotten little actual sleep the previous evening, but she had recovered her regalia from the tangle of garments on Fleur’s floor. Even if she didn’t feel especially regal, she at least looked the part.

She left her chambers, nodding to the Day Guards watching vigilantly for approach from outside, and thus startling them as she came from behind them, ‘accidentally’ running a wingtip alongside their hindlegs and stifling a giggle as both of them struggled to maintain composure.

“Excellent job, you two. You may take your leave for the moment, if you wish. I shall be speaking with Midnight Oil at length for what remains of the day.”

They said nothing, only exchanging questioning glances with each other before shrugging and following her downstairs. They stopped at the base of the stairs, taking position to either side of the stairway.

Luna opened her mouth to repeat herself, then closed it quickly. She hadn’t exactly ordered them to leave, leaving it up to them. If they wished to guard an empty chamber, she was not going to stop them.

Instead she walked on, doing her best not to grunt as the castle staff went by. Though seeing their cheery waves and smiles did remind her to check on whether the staff raise appraisal had been completed. She’d already decided it was going to happen, but still needed to know how much it would potentially cost in the budget.

Arriving at Middy’s chambers, she walked past the guards and knocked loudly. Several moments went by with her staring at the closed door expectantly before one of the guards cleared his throat. A moment or two more found her still watching the closed door, and one of the guards actually speaking up.

“Princess, I’m afraid he is in Princess Celestia’s office, going over paperwork.” The one on the left said with just a hint of nervousness in his otherwise tough demeanor.

She turned in surprise, frowning. It bothered her at times how very still they were, almost coming to resemble statues. So much so that when they actually moved or spoke it could be quite jarring. She’d broken many of her Night Guard of that particular habit while in her presence, at least. “I see,” she said after another drawn out moment of waiting for him to say more. “Fine, could one of you send for lunch? I don’t imagine he’s had that as of yet.”

“Midnight left without waiting for breakfast this morning, Princess,” the one on the right side said, almost as if he wasn’t responding to her at all.

“He can sometimes be persuaded to take lunch, but only under protest,” the one on the left said.

Luna frowned upon hearing that. Being an alicorn, the need to eat was somewhat less important, as her body would sustain itself nigh perpetually if needed. Food was nice, and her stomach liked to be paid attention to on a semi regular basis or it would complain, but it was not a necessity for one such as she.

Ponies like Middy did not have such luxury. They needed to eat or grow weak and weary and other things Luna was not prepared to think about. Middy was not a young pony, but neither was he so old that she should have to think about him not being there. 

He also had a wife to consider, who would no doubt very much like for him to be healthy when she next visited.
“Very well. If he protests, We shall feed him Ourselves,” she said, adding just a touch of the Voice to her proclamation. “You on the left, the talkative one, you shall have food sent to the office. You on the right will continue to guard his chambers.”

The talkative guard snapped a quick salute, marching down the hall towards what was presumably a kitchen. Luna made a mental note to get the know the layout of the castle better. Knowing where food could be found was important.  

She nodded to the less-talkative guard, approving of his slight nod in return. 

Perhaps some of the Day Guard can be persuaded to be less stoic in Our presence, she thought, feeling somewhat pleased. 

It was the small victories that often mattered most.





A short journey later found her in her sister’s tower, in the offices that were just below Celestia’s living space.

It was a rather large and sprawling chamber for one pony, because in the past it had been occupied by many more ponies than just Celestia. As recently as fifty years ago, in fact, she’d had a small team of clerks to help her in her daily affairs.

Whether by happenstance or simple thoughtlessness, they had not been replaced as they’d died off by old age. If rumors were true, the last group of clerks had uniformly been ‘married to their work’ types, not even feeling the need for interoffice dalliance, and thus having no children to pass their skills down to. With nopony to replace them, Celestia had absorbed the extra work into her own schedule, and before long it had been her alone.

Luna shook her head. It was just like her sister to simply ‘work harder’ to make up for the deficiencies of others. Not her. The room would be fully staffed before Celestia returned to her share of the duties. This, too, would be rectified just as soon as she knew the impact it would have on the finances.

Perhaps, she thought, We should consider offering bonuses to those who produce their own heirs, or failing that, a robust apprenticeship program.

For the moment, the one pony occupying the space was Middy, looking very small in a chair built to hold a much taller and (though her sister would be wroth with her if she said it aloud) wider pony than he. Such was the size of the desk that he actually had to get up to look over some of the documents spread out on the surface, before thinking better of it and simply lifting them in his magic.
He did not stir immediately on her entry, the door having been left wide open for any and all to approach. At first she was incensed that he didn’t have several guards watching the entryway, but then she became curious as to how it was accomplished.

She cleared her throat at a volume just above her normal speaking voice, careful not to invoke the Voice, much as it might have pleased her were Middy any other pony. She had no wish to startle him.

“Ahhhh!” Middy exclaimed, a sheaf of papers flying up into the air as he jumped in the oversized seat.

Luna frowned, but quickly caught the pages in her own magic, restacking them and placing them back in a neat pile in front of Midnight.

“P-princess!” Midnight said as his eyes landed on her after wildly darting in all directions for the source of the noise. “I hadn’t gotten word that you’d returned!”

Luna regarded him with a single raised eyebrow, then smiled. “I only just finished my rounds. I wanted to talk to you about a few matters. Have you eaten?”

The question seemed to puzzle him, as he looked down at his empty coffee cup. “I... something yesterday, I believe. Or perhaps the day before? I’ve been occupied.”

“Just as well I sent for lunch, then,” Luna said, pulling an empty chair from a similarly empty desk and putting it down in front of the large desk. “So, that is a lot of paper before you. Is any of it important?”

“Some,” Midnight answered, stifling a yawn with a hoof. “Much of this is of the ‘rubber stamp’ variety. It’s supposed to be more of a formality than anything, but given what’s happened with the embezzlement everything needs to be double checked. Really, there was one thing I wanted to bring to your attention over it all, however—” he said, pulling a brown folder from the mix of papers.

“In a moment, Middy,” Luna replied, deflecting the envelope from her airspace. “My sister is going to need to get in contact with one of the spies in Ponyville, so I’ll need you to reach out to the spymaster for cutiemark and passphrase information, or however they do that these days—”

“Princess—” Middy said, “I’ll make the arrangements, but you really should look at this—”

“Also, I need to know how much it will cost to give the castle staff a nice raise. Something generous but not likely to break the treasury.”

“I’ll... check with the ponies in the accounting office,” Midnight said with a look of surprise. “We’re still recovering the funds from that embezzlement problem some time back but I believe we’re flush enough to make that happen. Now, if you could look these reports over—”

“Finally...” Luna began, then looked away from Middy as she trailed off, uncertain how best to ask her next question. “Middy... I’ve... I’ve met somepony. Or... well, two, and I wanted to make a formal announcement about them, perhaps have a ceremony of some kind... We’d have to make it up, there isn’t even a name for what they’d be to me, but I want ponies to know about them...” Luna trailed off again, blushing. She looked at Midnight once more. “I’d need help trying to decide if it’s more of a wedding or a government appointment... Well, they won’t be getting paid, so I suppose it’s not a job...”

A picture floated across her field of vision, obscuring Midnight from her. It was of herself, Dame De Lis, and Sir Pants enjoying a drink in their private chambers. A second one followed, of Fleur sneaking a kiss on Luna’s cheek.

She smiled despite her confusion. Fleur looked adorable as she blushed, something Luna only rarely got to see. She debated whether to have the image framed for her bedside table. “Middy, what am I looking at?” she asked after a moment.

“These were taken from the rooftop of a building some three blocks from the estate of Fancy Pants, Princess—” Midnight began.

Luna cooed as she saw that the next picture was of herself kissing at the nape of Fleur’s neck. Fleur had laughed so very loudly, but of course, Luna had been unable to see her expression, having had her muzzle buried in Fleur’s mane.

She gathered the photos in her magic, carefully stacking them. “Are there more?” she asked, in the vain hope that the answer might be ‘yes’.

“There are, though some are far more... personal,” Midnight replied, looking away from her to the desk. 

Luna’s eyes lit up, and she took the proffered envelope from him and began looking over the images one after another. What she saw amazed her, as she knew well what parts of Fancy’s private living quarters they’d been in at the time, and getting a direct line of sight would have required traveling some number of miles to the west of where the original shots had been taken.

“These are from our spies, Middy?” Luna asked after carefully putting away one image in particular that showed her having climbed atop Fleur on Fancy’s bed. Her eyes flashed to the door behind them, and her magic firmly closed it. “I suppose I have only myself to blame, I only asked for my guard detail to allow me to go alone. Expecting I would not be observed at all was foalish.”

She pulled out another image, this one of Fancy rearing up behind her, and quickly put it back deep inside the folder, the blush on her cheeks deepening. 

“These were recovered by one of our spies, Princess,” Midnight said carefully. Diplomatically.

Luna frowned, taking out another image. “These... were not taken by one of our own?”

“They were taken by a reporter trying to get a scoop at your expense, Princess. Luckily, one of our own did spot him doing so, and managed to apprehend both him and his photos before he made a nuisance of himself.”

“Ah, so he was imprisoned,” Luna replied, feeling somewhat relieved. 

“Not... exactly,” Midnight replied. “We would have had to put him on trial, which would have potentially involved introducing his pictures as evidence. He’s currently a guest of the castle, though not of his own choice.”

Luna pulled out another shot of her sipping wine out of Fleur’s mouth, her frown deepening. “A presspony took these?”

“Press Pass, he was a member of your sister’s Press Corps. One of the ones you drove out for failing to do what they were there to do.” Midnight replied. “He seems rather driven to embarass you.”

Luna nodded thoughtfully, “And he is our guest?” she asked quietly.

“Until it’s decided otherwise,” Midnight replied. “I wanted to consult you on the matter, after making certain to acquire the evidence.”

“I see,” she said, mentally calculating how many miles this press pony had traveled, how much research had been put into finding the perfect locations from which to observe, and the timing it had taken to get the perfect angles for these pictures.

Luna was many things to many ponies, but she could appreciate the dedication and time this pony had put into what was presumably a revenge of sorts. She had seen it as dispensing with ponies who had grown complacent, but he likely saw it as a grave injustice. The need to correct such a thing lit a fire in one’s gut. 

Fires could be useful, if correctly controlled.

“Middy, I would like you to hire this pony for me,” she said.

“Princess,” Midnight replied with a look of ever-suffering exasperation. “I’ve told you before, we cannot just set ponies on fire—”

“We said hire, Middy. As in We wish to recruit him to observe and report for Us,” Luna clarified, slipping into the royal We as she spoke for the crown in that moment.

“Princess, this pony invaded the privacy of yourself and that of two prominent members of society!” Midnight replied, looking somehow more shocked than ever. “We should not just let that go unpunished!”

“Well, you were the one who said we couldn’t go setting ponies on fire...” Luna said with a smirk.

“Princess...”

“Fine, fine, no immolation today, then. And I didn’t mean not to punish him, Middy,” Luna replied patiently. “He did do as you say,” she paused, considering Middy’s words. She could understand his confusion, as normally a pony stalking her might have bothered her, but revenge was something she understood. Something she, in fact, could even admire. 

She certainly admired it more than the complacency she’d seen in the faces of the Press Corps just before deciding to chase them all from the room. If even one of them had shown the type of initiative she was seeing, she might have spared them all. 

She could also see talent in these images. Particularly the ones he’d captured of Fleur blushing, and the one of her in mid-moan. “Fine, not a job then, community service. We require of him a deed, to prove his contrition and his worth as a potential contractor.”

She held up the envelope. “I will be confiscating these, as well. They will not be needed, as I have no wish to imprison this stallion for thwarted efforts.”

Midnight seemed ready to protest, but apparently thought better of it, which was just as well, because having had them come into her possession, there was simply no way Luna was going to be parted from these pictures without having had a thorough chance to study them in detail, most likely alongside Fleur.

Perhaps, if things went well, this Press Pass could be persuaded to take more.

“I suppose it would be one way to deal with him, and he’s certainly been loud enough about wanting to be set free. Though somehow I doubt his own living space is nearly as nice as the rooms he’s occupying now, and he certainly doesn’t mind receiving room service,” Midnight replied. “Very well. Would you like to meet with him?”

There was a knock on the door, shortly followed by a smiling unicorn mare carrying a silver tray, which she set down and opened to reveal two plates filled with steamed vegetables and rice, two salads, and a piping hot crusty loaf of bread next to a tray of butter.

Midnight’s stomach grumbled loudly. “Forgive me!” he said with a blush. “I think perhaps it’s been longer than I had guessed. I... suppose he’s been waiting for this long. A bit longer can’t hurt.”

Luna nodded. “Yes, we’ll leave just as soon as you’ve had your lunch,” she paused, then added: “And while we eat, I wanted to talk to you about the sun, Middy, there is far too much of it.”

“Wha?” Midnight said around a mouthful of rice.

“I suppose I could position a disk of the purest darkness over the city but I’m not sure how ponies would react,” she said, spearing her fork into a carrot and waving it around for emphasis. “The same is true for the light diffusion spells, though I suppose we could solve that by giving everyone in Canterlot an extra lamp or two, I’m trying to find a solution that won’t require me blinding myself, you see...”

“I do think that would be a little drastic,” Midnight opined genially as he buttered a slice of bread.

“I thought so too, but I’m willing to entertain other solutions.” Luna replied, taking the proffered knife and butter dish from him. “I was thinking we could also gradually increase the length of the night by an hour or so, or set up some sort of perpetual storm system—”
> Chapter 12: Being Worthy Of Trust
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Luna blinked her eyes several times as she put the darkened lenses back over her eyes. 

“That... is exceedingly clever!” she remarked, taking them off once more and glaring balefully at the sunlight’s return. “And they call these ‘sunglasses’ you say?”

“Yes, Princess,” Midnight replied. “I apologize for not mentioning them sooner, but I honestly assumed you were aware of their existence. I suppose they were a relatively recent invention, as things go.”

“For all that they are named after it, they don’t seem like something made for those who like sunlight, more like for those who wish to not experience it,” Luna said, turning the ‘sunglasses’ over and over in her magic.

“Sunlight is an important and necessary thing, Princess,” Midnight said patiently. “However, even those who willingly live and work during the height of the day will admit too much sun is somewhat harsh. These were made for ponies who must work during the heat of the day and can’t just relax in the shade when they need to. And also for ponies at play when they plan to spend much of the day at places with little shade.”

“Exactly!” Luna said excitedly. “Even the sun lovers don’t want too much of it! I really need to ask my sister if the blasted thing can be dimmed somehow...”

“That is what the glasses are for, Princess.”

Luna turned her attention back to the darkened lenses, putting them back atop her nose and relishing in the lessening of the assault to her eyes. “Yes, I see now. These should be issued to all of the Night Guard, and the Day Guard as well, and anypony else who has to work these awful hours. Make it so, Middy.”

Midnight blinked at her owlishly. “You want me to issue a pair of sunglasses to the entirety of the castle guard?”

“And the servants, Middy. They are good ponies, despite how peppy they are so very early in the mornings. And don’t forget the raise for everypony. I’d like cost estimates for various percentages,” she paused for a moment, trying to remember anything else she’d needed him to do. “Oh, we still need the name of a Ponyville agent of Celestia’s spy network... Please.”

His eyebrows raised a little, and while he had looked ready to protest, he bit off whatever he’d been about to say upon hearing the Word of Power. “Fine. Just don’t make it part of their uniform,” Midnight said after a long moment.

“Of course not!” Luna replied with a grin. Uniforms were meant to be worn at all times, as she was well aware. While these ‘sunglasses’ were clearly useful during the day, she could not see much use for them at night. 

Unless they could be enchanted... Luna mused thoughtfully. I wonder if they could be made with basic Magesight to allow the non-horned amongst the guard to see through illusions and changeling magicks... Or perhaps even piercing the darkness to see life force itself?

It was an avenue worth pursuing. 

The glasses offered the added benefit of making it difficult to tell which direction her eyes were pointed in, or (she imagined) if they were open at all. Repeated attempts to catch a glimpse of herself with her eyes closed to confirm this proved fruitless, but reflections in her glass with the shaded lenses on pleased her. Even she could not tell what her eyes were doing. 

I could perhaps sleep right in the middle of court with none the wiser!

She clapped her hooves together in glee at the very thought.

“Princess?” Midnight asked from somewhere in which Luna was not dreaming of having a nap in broad daylight.

Luna turned her head from gazing at her own reflection in the empty glass, her face feeling flushed, which she hoped was largely covered by the dark lenses. “Yes, Middy?”

“I was wondering about the other things you mentioned. Is there any reason in particular you wanted to pass out a raise for the staff?” Midnight replied, draining a glass of apple juice to finish his own repast.

Luna hesitated to answer. The true reason was a rather selfish one, as giving everypony a raise meant indirectly benefiting Midnight. She felt as if Midnight would object to such a thing, even if it did mean the entire rest of the staff would benefit. But there were several other reasons that applied that she could mention. “Well, We just feel that many of the employees could be valued a bit higher than they currently are. Their jobs are important and We wish for them to feel that sense of value the crown holds for them in a tangible way. Money buys nice things that ponies like, so it’s one way to reward their efforts. And when they buy those things, more money goes into the economy, which ultimately comes back to Us in the form of taxes.”

Midnight listened with his elbows laid on the table as if he were at a desk and she were some supplicant, hooves steepled together in contemplation of her words. He nodded after a time. “Very well. I just wanted to make sure we wouldn’t be throwing money away on a misguided idea of getting the staff to like you more than your sister or some such. Celestia gives annual raises, you see, and I can personally assure you that there are few complaints with the salaries paid. But if you feel their performance warrants a raise beyond what is normally given, I’m certain nopony will mind,” he smiled, and Luna had to suppress a little squeal of excitement in response.

She covered her smile with a napkin, making a show of patting at it. “Well, I certainly do. I don’t mean to imply that I feel my sister undervalues you all, but having been forced to take up more of her duties has lead me personally to believe you could all be valued more,” she hesitated a moment, then added: “Also, I believe your good faith and good natures during these trying times without my sister in attendance should be amply rewarded. That last is directed in no small part to yourself, Midnight.”

“Princess, there is no need—”

“Not a need, perhaps,” Luna said quickly. “But certainly a desire on my part to reward all of you. It would hardly be fair to exclude the highest in service, would it?”

He harrumphed, frowning.

“Use it to buy Eriskay something shiny, Middy,” Luna urged. “Ponies in her line of work like nice things, too. Helps to impress the beings she negotiates with.”

He seemingly had no response, or else chose not to make one. After a few moments, he said. “Well, if you’re finished with lunch, we can go visit Mr. Press Pass. I imagine the guards left to watch over him will be glad to be assigned quite literally elsewhere. He’s not the most quiet of guests.”
 
Luna nodded eagerly, patting her mouth primly with a napkin. “Yes! Let us go meet the talented Mr. Pass, and see what he has to say for himself!”

And also find out if he has more pictures! Luna thought, her heart racing at the very idea.





Press Pass wasn’t much to look at, as it turned out.

As nemeses went, he left much to be desired, Luna decided. No black cape, no twirling moustache, and no evil sneer. He was a fairly nondescript earth pony with a grey mane and mottled brown coat. Even his cutie mark, a spyglass, did little to help her impression of him. He’d have looked at home nearly anywhere but in his current surroundings, where he looked as out of place as he likely felt.

When he saw Middy walk in before her, Press Pass gave him a look of resignation, and annoyance. Seeing Luna, however, his expression changed to one of fear. “You said if I gave up the p-photos—” he began before Luna held up a hoof.

“Midnight Oil, We desire a private audience with this pony. Please, wait outside for a few moments.”

“Majesty, do you really think that necessary—”

Luna gave him a pointed look which silenced his protests. He held her gaze for a time before nodding, leaving the room and closing the door with a quiet click.

Luna turned back to Press Pass, who looked like he was trying to blend into the chair he’d been sitting in. She said nothing, instead pulling out the envelope and opening it, pulling forth one of the pictures. It floated next to her, an image of her nuzzling Fleur while Fleur laughed. She pointed at it with a hoof silently, with a single eyebrow raised.

He flinched in response, seemingly not daring to meet her gaze.

“I expected you to be a pegasus,” she said finally, breaking the silence.

He didn’t say anything at first, but watching the expression on his face was fascinating as it warred between consternation and fear. Eventually confusion won out, and he asked: “What possible sense does that make?”

“A pegasus would have had a much easier time traveling from one vantage to the other to take these shots. A unicorn might have teleported, if they had that talent. You had to run on hoof.” Luna explained.

“And?” Press Pass demanded. “What of it?”

“I’ve traveled those neighborhoods on many a night. The distance you had to run was many miles.”

Press Pass stared at her for a long moment. “Look, are you going to have me executed or not? Because trying to confuse me to death seems cruel and unusual.”

Luna quirked up the same eyebrow. "An interesting suggestion. Did you wish to be executed?"

Press Pass frowned, “Well, obviously I’d rather live. I was just expecting—”

“Expecting I would cut you down for daring to attempt vengeance?” Luna barked out a hearty laugh. “Little pony, far better than you have tried and failed. Do you know why you’re not sitting in a dungeon right now?”

“Because your chancellor didn’t want a public trial,” Press Pass answered promptly.

“Is that what he told you?” Luna said with a smirk. “I could cast you in irons for the rest of your days without a trial, Mr. Pass. Would you like to guess again?”

“But that would be against the law—”

“Little pony, I am the law,” Luna said, cutting off further protest. “And before you start blubbering, no, I don’t plan to toss you in a cell.” she pointed at the picture of Fleur. “You’re not in a dungeon because Midnight didn’t want to throw you in one without consulting me, and you continue to not be in one because of these. Because I have questions for you about these pictures.”

“A-are you implying that I might have more or something? Because I promise you, I don’t!” Press Pass said just a little too quickly.

Gotcha! Luna thought, and she smiled, saying: “I sincerely hope that’s not true.”

“It is!” Press Pass insisted, groaning as he said it. “Your spy caught me with my camera, I hadn’t even had a chance to develop the shots.”

Luna nodded. “Yes, I gathered as much. But do you seriously expect me to believe you went to all the trouble of scouting the vantage points, setting up the equipment, plotting your path between the points, and in all of that study... you never took any test shots to see if you were judging the angles correctly?”

“W-well, I did have to check where they normally took their guests, and where I could get the best angle on the bedroom...” he said, looking away from Luna.

“And plotting the fastest route to run between shots?” Luna prompted. “I know how quickly you must have run, because you didn’t miss much as we moved locations.”

“Not as quickly as you might have thought,” Press Pass said with a smirk. “Most of the rooftops in Canterlot are close together, so I cut the time down quite a bit. Probably scared a few bats out of their roosts, though,” he thought for a moment, his smirk changing to a frown. “Probably what gave me away to your spy, now that I think of it.”

“You spent a lot of time on this scheme, didn’t you?” Luna pressed gently.

“I had a lot of time to spend on it,” Press Pass said with a bit of venom in his voice. “They didn’t even want me in the mailroom after you drove us all out. I was ruined.”

“And this story would have won you a place in your profession once again?”

“What do you want to hear?” He demanded eventually. “It’s tabloid level gossipy trash, not exactly something that would have won me any journalism prizes,” Press Pass admitted with a frown. “I wanted to get back at you. I can’t get my job back, now. You gave that to somepony else. But I could have gotten a little satisfaction.”

“You took some very intimate photos in your pursuit of recompense, Mr. Pass.” Luna said pointedly. “Photos that included some very dear friends of mine. Had you succeeded I would have been very cross with you personally...”

“They’re a lot more than friends, apparently,” Press Pass said with a chuckle. “And I was planning to crop those, or not even develop them. I wanted to embarrass you, but I’m not a monster. Little foals might see the paper, after all.” Press Pass took a deep breath. “If you’re not planning to execute me, or throw me in a dungeon, may I at least know what my fate will be?”

Luna smiled broadly. “That all depends on you, Mr. Pass. Rest assured, I have no immediate plans to end your life, nor do I plan to have you waste it in a dank cell. Beyond that...” she trailed off without finishing the thought, letting him draw his own conclusions. 

She sat down in a chair opposite him, pouring out a glass of water and doing the same for him. “So, you lack employment currently?”

“I’ve been... living off of savings...” Press Pass said, seemingly more than a little bewildered by the sudden shift in topic.

“These are quite good.” Luna said, taking out the other photos and fanning them out. “Tell me, why was it you were a reporter, exactly? You’re clearly a fantastic photographer.”

“Photography and tenacity got me into better posts. The Press Corps is a very well paid position,” Press Pass said defensively. “It took a long time to earn it.”

“And then when you’d earned it, you got lazy,” Luna said, clucking her tongue. “Like a caged lion growing used to being fed. You had to hunt again when I chased you from the enclosure. Claws still sharp, it seems.”

“It... did feel nice, going after the story instead of just being given news,” Press Pass admitted. “But I still don’t understand, what—”

Luna leaned closer to him, and extended a single hoof, touching him on the nose. “You will hunt for me, now,” she proclaimed.

He stared at her for a long moment. “You... you can’t be serious. I literally got taken in for spying on you, which I have been told at great length is considered a grave offense... Are you playing some sort of game with me?”

Luna actually managed to smile wider. “Not at all. You show great promise, if you are willing to redirect your efforts. I’ll unfortunately have to insist you stop your attempts to gain vengeance on me, but I am planning to compensate you for your work if you do my will, and they do say living well is the best vengeance of all...” Luna’s face dropped into a momentary frown. “Or, at least they used to. I’m not sure if they still say that.”

“They do still say that...” Press Pass said quietly. “But I... even if I agreed, which I am not doing, yet... how could you possibly trust somepony like me?”

“Oh, that’s simple enough,” Luna replied, letting out a little chuckle. “My sister wouldn’t have allowed you into the castle if you weren’t able to be trusted. Which, if I know her, means you can be expected to do certain things with certain pieces of information consistently.”

“If you felt that way, why did you chase all of us out of the press room?” Press Pass demanded.

“Because none of you could be bothered to do that very job she expected of you,” Luna replied succinctly. “My sister needed rest, so I took up for her where once she took up for both of us, and you lot were so wrapped up in routine you failed to notice your princess was in another castle. A reporter that cannot be bothered to gather the news is a very sorry sort of pony.”

Press Pass visibly grit his teeth together. “Fine. So why do you think you could trust me to do this new job for you?”

“Again, consistency. You were part of a group that had grown lazy, a herd of fattened ponies content to graze. If, as you say, I inadvertently cost you your livelihood, I further would expect you to do exactly as you have done, which was to seek to hurt me for hurting you. Your herd cast you out as unfit. Seeking revenge is a natural impulse, after all.”

“But that’s exactly why you shouldn’t trust me!” Press Pass exclaimed. “How could you possibly expect me to trust you when I don’t believe you can trust me?”

Luna looked at him curiously, “Are you calling my own trustworthiness into question, little pony?”

“In my profession, your word is all you have,” Press Pass replied as if explaining that water is wet. “Everypony in that press room expected what amounted to more or less a lifetime appointment. Being in Celestia’s Press Corps... you’re set. No more drumming up news about tax scandals or the latest affairs of the rich and stupid. Then you came along and ruined that.”

Luna nodded, saying: “Yes, I understood that much.”

“So, you broke your sister’s word,” Press Pass said. “Or... at least her implicit word...”

Luna’s expression cleared. “Ah, I see. You feel having broken trust with your group, that your betrayal in kind was justified. You’re right, in a sense. I would argue who broke trust with whom first, but it became apparent quickly that while my sister had your faith, I did not. And so you all became useless to me.”

“Still not hearing how I can possibly expect you would want me to work for you.” Press Pass replied with a frown.

Luna nodded, getting up and pacing back and forth in front of him as she thought. “Faith was broken with your group, as you say. Now, you are an individual, looking out for your own interests.”

“Well, I mean... yeah,” Press Pass said.

“You can be trusted to seek that which benefits you,” Luna replied, matter-of-factorily. “I am offering you a chance to use your skills to acquire a new line of employment. One where you can keep your skills sharp, and be rewarded for that.”

He considered for a long moment before answering. “I get how this benefits me, Princess. I mean, staying out of a cell is a big plus, then you’re offering to give me a job on top of it. But c’mon, level with me... What's in it for you?”

Luna smiled widely at the question. “Mr. Pass... you’ve taken some very good pictures.”

“Well, I mean... I don’t like to brag but...” he stopped, confused. “Wait, are you just really into having your picture taken?”

Luna said nothing, continuing to smile.

He shrugged. “Okay... not the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard, I guess.”

Luna sat down once more, leaning forward and speaking in a more conversational tone. “So, Mr Pass... I hope you understand more of why I wish to employ you, and why I feel I can trust that you will not leave here only to seek to continue your ill-advised vendetta. Now, you have a choice. Do you wish to live?”

“Do... do you mean ‘Do I wish to live well?’” Press Pass asked with wide eyes.

“Well? Do you?” Luna asked, her eyes sparking in merriment, not even deigning to clarify her real intent.

“I... I could write about all of this, you know. The thinly veiled threats, the false imprisonment...”

“You could,” Luna allowed. “But tell me... would it be the worst thing you've read about me in the newspapers?”

Press Pass uttered what was likely a truly blistering curse just under his breath.

“Shall I take that as a ‘yes’ to my offer, Mr. Pass?”

“What would you like me to do for you, Princess?” he replied meekly.

Luna clapped her hooves together in delight. “Excellent! I think you’ll find being in my favor far preferable to the alternative, Mr. Pass. Now, first of all, I need any and all developed photographs or undeveloped negatives that you might have at your residence pertaining to your surveillance of the Pants Estate. You will be given freedom to go and retrieve them, but you are also granted the use of these chambers if you so choose. Think of it as a reward for your inconvenience these past few days.”

Some small bit of rebellion seemed to remain in Press Pass, making him ask sullenly: “And what if I decide to burn those pictures?”

Luna smirked, saying: “Then you would not get paid for them, Mr. Pass. I will see that you are paid for the ones in my possession, of course, but if you choose to destroy any others, that is your choice. But I will pay very well for any other images of Fleur and Fancy. Especially if you caught Fleur laughing.”

“But those don’t have you in them at all. Are you still worried I plan to use those photos for blackmail or something?” he pressed. 

“Not at all!” Luna replied with a laugh. “In fact, if you were to try, I suspect Fancy would ruin you for life in every sense of the word, and that’s not even beginning to address what I would do to you,” she continued in a whisper: “Even death is no bar to one such as I.” 

He accepted this explanation with an appropriate wilting of his ears.

“No. I want them because again, you take very good pictures, Mr. Pass,” she added blithely, as if she hadn’t just threatened his very eternal existence. “As a matter of fact, I intend for you to take more of them. Many, many more. But first, I would have those which I don’t possess currently. Go and get them, and then we can talk of where and when you will take more.”





She left the chamber, all smiles, redonning the ‘sunglasses’ as she crossed the threshold. “Mr. Pass and I have reached an accord, Middy.”

“That’s... good to hear, Princess.” Middy replied, nonplussed at her sudden appearance and announcement.

To the guard, Luna said: “Mr. Pass will continue to use these chambers as he wishes for a time, though I may arrange for other dwellings within the castle at a later date. He is free to come and go as he wishes for the moment. We will not require a guard for his chambers, but I would like you and yours to report on his movements within the castle.”

“Of course, Princess.”

Luna nodded to the guard, then motioned for Middy to follow her. “He will be fetching more pictures and negatives from his home. I will want those as well. I shall be invoicing the treasury for him to be paid for his work.”

“I thought he wasn’t to be paid?” Midnight asked as he hurried along after her.

“He’s going to be doing some work to prove himself, and that work will be unpaid. These pictures, however, represent work for which I wish to pay him for,” Luna replied.

“Work?” Midnight asked incredulously. “He was stalking you!”

“Yes, and he did a fantastic job of it, Middy. Such work should be rewarded.”

Midnight was silent as he followed, eventually saying: “As you wish, Princess. Though I suspect his other victims might not share your opinion.”

“I’ll be sure to show them as well, but I suspect Fleur will be ecstatic. Fancy perhaps a bit less so, but he’ll be satisfied knowing the pictures won’t go public.”

“All right, if you are sure, Princess.”

“I am. Now, about those other matters?”

“Right,” Midnight replied, clearly still worried but willing to let the matter go for the moment. “Now, forgive me, there was the bit about the spymaster—”

“Yes, I need to know the name and passphrase of an agent in or near Ponyville,” Luna answered.

Midnight stopped dead in his tracks. “And this is for your sister, you said?”

Luna made an urgent shushing motion, not having realized up till that moment that she’d let that slip. “Yes. And before you ask, no, I am not able to say why. I really shouldn’t have mentioned her at all, but I trust you’ll keep that to yourself.”

He gave her a sidelong look, saying: “Well, that certainly spoils my coup options. I had this whole elaborate plan to betray your confidence at the least opportune moment, but now you’ve asked me nicely not to.”

Luna stared at him for a very long time before bursting into peals of laughter.

His mouth quirked up into a little smile, “I’m glad you found that humorous. Now... would you care to elaborate about this situation with Fancy Pants and Fleur De Lis? I wouldn’t normally pry but it feels as though this announcement might be a bit...”

“Controversial?” Luna suggested.

“I was going to say unusual,” Midnight replied. “Was it your intention to marry a couple that are themselves already married? Because I’m uncertain there’s precedent for that in the laws.”

“Midnight... I, and you by extension of serving my sister’s will,are the law. By all means, search the books, but we can draft something entirely new, if need be. It’s not as if Princesses are getting married on a regular basis, so there hasn’t been a need to dictate when and how that may happen. My niece was the first in living memory.” Luna replied patiently.

“I certainly don’t mean you’d be forbidden to do anything, Princess,” Midnight said. “I just mean that what you hold to be true will also be applied to the ponies at large.”

Luna laughed again. “And what of it? If some might wish to bring a partner from outside into the folds of matrimony, all the better!”

Midnight said nothing for a long moment, then nodded. “I suppose sometimes sweeping social changes can happen overnight. Very well... but I would expect many requests for renewed vows to include previously unannounced spouses, and we should probably hire more tax accountants.”

“Yes, Middy. Whatever is best in your opinion.” Luna said dismissively.

“I’ll prepare accordingly,” Midnight replied gruffly. “But do you wish to marry this couple to yourself? If so, it would be an occasion to be celebrated. As you’ve said, there are a limited number of princesses for which such a thing can be done.”

“I...” Luna hesitated, uncertain how she wished to respond. 

“Also, are they the only ponies you wish to join to yourself, or is this the start of a royal harem—”

“It is not a harem!” Luna said quickly. “They are merely very special to me and I wish to have all know that if harm comes to them I will bring vicious and quick vengeance on any who would dare!”

“And will there be more special ones who will join them?” Midnight asked pointedly.

Luna stopped in place, tapping her forehooves together in thought. “I... had perhaps... there is another couple whose company I very much value and might perhaps one day name as amongst those I prize most.”

“A very exclusive harem, then,” Midnight replied. 

“There will be no harem!” Luna shouted, her eyes tightly closed as she stomped a forehoof so hard that she cracked the stonework beneath her.

“Luna,” Midnight said gently. “I don’t mean to upset you. Royal harems are well known, historically. I’m given to understand Princess Platinum—”

“Princess Platinum was a debased harlot and all who knew her could attest to that fact!” Luna proclaimed. “I... I merely wish to acknowledge ponies that I hold dear to my heart. My feelings are more than merely carnal,” she finished with a petulant pout.

“Very well,” Midnight repeated after a moment. “Though perhaps you might clarify what exactly you wish to call it, because ponies will very likely begin calling it a harem. Perhaps you could redefine what the word means to you, in this day and age.”

Luna sniffed, and grumbled out: “We shall give the matter some thought.” After a moment, she added. “But... this brings me to another matter, Middy...” Luna said slowly. “I... I wish to commission a... memorial tool shed.”

Midnight Oil scratched the back of his head with a hoof. "That's... not quite what I had in mind with regards to 'redefining' the word, Princess. I don't know about the past, but certain practices are still considered private these days. So while I would happily help you build this... ‘tool shed’ of yours, perhaps it should not be a memorial for the public to visit?"

“No... it’s not for the public, Middy,” Luna replied, nonplussed by his reaction. “It will be in my private garden. And... it must be very tall. Tall enough for a stained glass window. And the tools will be gilded and jeweled encrusted.”

“Gilded and jewel encrusted...” He repeated, breathlessly. He shook himself, taking a deep breath. “That’s... odd, but we can certainly make it happen. Must it be in the garden, however? Usually such things are deep in dungeons...”

“The garden was her favorite place,” Luna said firmly. “I also need a giant golden plaque above the doorway. It will read ‘Night Blossom, beloved and shieldmare of Princess Luna, caretaker of her heart’.”

Midnight looked taken aback, but made no further protest. “V-very well. It shall be as you say. I’ll need a list of... the tools you require, and how you would like them decorated. And we’ll arrange for the stonemason to meet with you to discuss dimensions.” he glanced down at the large and pronounced crack in the stone beneath their feet, adding: “And... also to fix this floor, I expect.”
> Chapter 13: Meeting a Candymaker
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Celestia awoke to the smell of dragonfire as a scroll landed on her snout.

A brief moment went by as she adjusted from being dead asleep to being awake. The scroll balanced on her nose, forgotten for the moment. She checked her tenuous connection to the sun (even when she wasn’t actively moving it, she could feel its position) and judged that it was around mid-afternoon. She allowed her eyes to open finally, and saw Luna’s seal staring her in the face.

You’ve got mail, Celly, Astra’s voice announced inside of her head.

Celestia snorted into her blankets, sitting up and taking the scroll into her hooves. She broke the seal with a small flick of her magic, then unfurled it with her hooves.

‘Sister, I hope the remainder of your sleep was more restful than the start. In the future, if you wish to meet with me, simply call upon Figment, who will bear word to me. I trust our meetings in the future will be during different hours.’

Celestia nodded to nopony in particular. She hoped so as well. With any luck Twilight’s own schedule would normalize after having settled her mind about her plans.

‘In any case, I’ve included the name of the agent you requested, as well as a passphrase to alert them you are there for business as opposed to their cover. The agent is called ‘Bon Bon’ by most, though her name on tax records is actually ‘Sweetie Drops’, and she apparently runs a candy shop in the center of Ponyville. You’ll need to hold up a ‘lollipop’ in front of her and ask if you might inquire about it.’

‘She will respond with the phrase ‘How many licks do you suppose it will take to get to the center of this?”’

‘The correct counter phrase is ‘fourty-two’. Remember it well, as failure to do so will cause her to dismiss you as a normal customer.’

‘I do not know if that number is correct, however. Please purchase many of these lollipops, as I am curious about the number of licks it might take.’

“Make a note of that, Astra,” Celestia said quietly.

Already done, but I want you to taste test them. I want to experience your memories of that.

“Fair enough,” Celestia replied. “We’ll need to buy enough for Pinkie and Twilight as well.”

Remember to bring bits.

Celestia nodded in agreement, then frowned. She had used Twilight’s shopping fund when she’d gone out to get ingredients for dinner, but she wasn’t certain she felt comfortable using that to buy candy, nor was she entirely certain how much said candy might cost.

She supposed she could have ‘Bon Bon’ invoice the castle for her trouble, but that hardly seemed fair to her, and might pose risk of breaking either Celestia’s or ‘Bon Bon’s’ covers in town. Perhaps even both at once.

As if she wouldn’t give them to you free of charge, Astra said with a chuckle.

“Maybe, if I told her who I was, though proving it might be difficult. I really would rather just pay her, if possible,” Celestia mused to herself as much as to reply to Astra. “As much as royal spies are paid a stipend, if she’s been running a shop that’s her own effort earning her own reward. It’s not right to deny her that.”

You’ll need to tell Pinkie and Twilight where you are going, Astra replied. You could just ask them for permission to use the house fund.

“I suppose I could add a correction to Twilight’s monthly allotment...” Celestia mused.

You should probably do that regardless, considering extra expenses of a guest princess who has a large appetite.

Celestia frowned. “Are you calling me f—”

I’m saying you eat like a large pony trying to get larger, Tia. And before you complain, that’s literally what you are.

Celestia harrumphed unhappily, not wanting to concede the point but not having any argument against it. She looked in Twilight’s mirror across the room, attempting to see herself objectively. Her current form was not very much different than the one she’d grown into over the last few centuries. A bit more svelte, slightly shorter, but everything was in proportion, certainly.

You’re bothered by this, aren’t you? Astra asked, sounding surprised.

“I just get self conscious,” Celestia replied. “I happen to really enjoy food. And I am much larger than any of my little ponies, but that doesn’t mean— I have a metabolism that is quite literally magical in nature. Hardly any of it goes to my thighs, if anything it makes my mane longer—”

Tia, you are not fat. You are however, big. You can stop worrying now.

“I really don’t want to hear that from somepony who can be any size and shape they feel like being,” Celestia replied with a pout.

I can’t be any size at all, Tia. I’m all in your head. But if it makes you feel better, next to your heart, your brain is probably the biggest thing about you.

Celestia's frown deepened even while her cheeks burned. She was still mildly irritated but could think of no response to the sudden backhoofed compliment and the resulting mix of endorphins and anger left her taken aback. “Thank you,” she said at last.

No, thank you, Tia. If it wasn’t as big as it was I wouldn’t be here at all. Would I?

Despite the mixed feelings, she smiled. “I suppose that’s something to be grateful for.” After a moment of consideration, she asked: “Did you mean my brain or my—”

Pick either. Or both. The truth is, I can’t say which birthed me. I suspect the answer is some combination of the two. Either would have been enough.

Celestia smiled despite herself. “Well, thank you either way.”

She gingerly climbed down from the bed, feeling awkward even at this size to be sleeping on an elevated surface. Celestia had been smaller than this current form at one time, but had never been a foal, at least in her living memory. Things that happened before you gained consciousness weren’t the sort of thing one had memories about. But so long as she’d had memories, she’d been happiest to sleep close to the ground, or floor, at least.

After years on her simple but plush futon (a gift from the Neighponese Emperor some seven hundred years past who had learned of her sleeping on the floor in her guest bedroom while she’d been visiting the region. Prior to receiving it, she’d slept on a small cloud kept in her bedroom, but she hadn’t wished to cause an incident by removing a part of their sky.) having to climb down made her feel like what she supposed a yearling foal felt like: composed of gangly and hard to control limbs.

Still, she eventually got four of them off of the admittedly comfortable bed Twilight had provided, the other two she held high to help with her balance. Having finally gotten out of bed, she took a moment to do some basic grooming, then made her way downstairs.





The main floor of the library was quiet, as libraries tended to be. This immediately struck Celestia as odd, since Pinkie frequented these premises and she tended to not think very much about such social niceties.

If you were very lucky, she might refrain from firing cannons at you.

The reason why became evident as she searched the rest of the living areas: Twilight and Pinkie Pie were both absent. She closed her eyes and thought for a moment, reasoning that while it was close to the time when the three would share dinner that she herself had likely broken that cycle by being asleep during these hours.

She went to the icebox, and found a note hanging from it scrawled in Twilight’s familiar script.

Dear Princess Celestia...

It feels a little weird writing this! I just wanted you to know where we went in case you woke up before we got back, but now I feel like I’m supposed to follow this up with something more important?


Fine. Today I learned even more about Pinkie’s talent, and yet I feel like I understand even less about it. But participating in her interests is still fun for us both, even if it hurts my head a little.

In other words, we went shopping for party supplies. Be back soon with dinner.

Your Faithful... No. Not for this.

Your Twilight.

P.S. Sorry about the Princess thing. It’s even harder to write just ‘Celestia’ than it is to say!

P.P.S. Pinkie says you... look cute bundled up in a blanket. I’m sorry. She wouldn’t let us leave until I wrote that for her.

Celestia’s cheeks colored after reading that. She was normally referred to as ‘statuesque’, ‘majestic’ even. One magazine had even coined the phrase ‘Celestial’ to describe a particularly tall model. ‘Cute’ was not something ponies said about the pony who towered above everypony else.

You were cute, once, Astra opined.

“If a pony is cute in a world where nopony is around to notice, are they still cute?” Celestia asked. “How would they even know, without somepony to say so?”

Luna was there.

“Luna was always cuter than me,” Celestia said with a grimace. “She still is.”

Pinkie thinks you’re cute, Astra said with a giggle.

“Pinkie Pie also thinks her pet alligator is cute.” Celestia replied with a frown.

Her pet alligator, Twilight, and you.

Celestia rolled her eyes, realizing that she had no useful retort. She instead looked around for a quill and ink, penning her response at the bottom of the note.

My dearest Twilight,

I had business in town and needed some money for it. I will ensure you are recompensed via an addition to your monthly payment. If I’m not back before you are, please don’t hold up dinner on my account.

Yours,

Celestia

P.S. You are quite forgiven.

P.P.S. Pinkie, thank you. You’re quite adorable as well.

Astra sighed heavily, almost sounding like a gale inside Celestia’s head. Adorable? That’s the best you can do?

Celestia cocked her head to one side, raising a single eyebrow. “I thought it was nice.”

It’s a nice way to talk about a kitten or a small foal, Astra said with exasperation. Surely she’s more than just that.

“Well, she called me cute,” Celestia responded petulantly.

Yes, she did, and it made you blush, Astra replied. Wouldn’t you like to see that same reaction in her?

Celestia considered that for a time. Pinkie Pie’s life was one spent making others smile, but on the rare occasion that somepony went out of their way to do so for Pinkie herself Pinkie reacted like a foal on Hearth’s Warming would if allowed to open a present early only to find the exact present they’d been hoping for.

A fellow mask wearer could recognize pure and simple joy in the expressions of another, after all, and Celestia knew her masks. She’d seen that reaction from Pinkie in several situations, and she wanted to see more of it, whenever possible.

“You’re right, of course,” Celesta replied.

I know I’m right, Astra replied. But it’s nice to know you know it too.

In a very small expenditure of magic, Celestia removed the ink from her postscript in a single thin stream of ink, leaving behind a pristine surface. It was a silly little spell that she’d learned in the long years between when she’d been Princess Celestia of the Everfree and Princess Celestia of Canterlot, back before she’d had things like clerks and secretaries to do all of her writing for her.

The ink danced for a moment, then flew back inside of the inkwell, ready to be used once again. Celestia held the quill in her magic, tapping the feathered half thoughtfully against her cheek.

She kissed you, you know, Astra said conversationally.

“When was this, exactly?” Celestia replied, somewhat disconcerted to be interrupted, and more so for something seemingly unrelated.

While you were sleeping. You had your eyes closed, but the way she moves is very different from Twilight. She poked around your blankets, checked if you were sleeping, then tucked you in and kissed you on the nose.

“And how would you know that if my eyes were closed?” Celestia asked.

You still feel things in your sleep, Tia, Astra replied. I know what a peck on the nose feels like. Twilight gave one to you often enough when she was younger.

Celestia considered that revelation for a long moment. The idea that Astra was more or less just aware of everything she was feeling, even when asleep, was both alarming and intriguing. She resolved to ask about whether Astra might be able to alert her in the event of an intruder in her bedchambers, reasoning that she was long since past due for another assasination attempt. But the image Astra painted of Pinkie tenderly tucking her in with a little kiss was more pressing still.

P.P.S. Pinkie Pie, I’ll forgive you this time, but the next time you kiss me, I expect you to wait until I’m awake.

Astra actually chortled loudly in her head as she saw what Celestia had written. Oh, wow! That pink face is going to be positively rosey after reading that.

Celestia smiled, then placed the missive back on the ice box where she’d found it. She briefly considered rooting around inside of it for a snack, but decided against it with some reluctance. She would be having dinner soon enough.

She checked Twilight’s coffer for the house fund, taking what she hoped would be enough for the lollipops she’d decided to buy, plus a few bits besides in case she found something else that absolutely needed to be purchased. She lamented briefly at her inability to access her private storage space with her retrieval spell, but like dragonfire it required a bit more of her than she could currently manage and even if she could, it would further be entirely inaccessible while she was without the use of her horn, since Aurora was meant to be a pegasus.  

Fortunately, Twilight had coin pouches which could be tied around one’s neck, though she suspected Spike normally tied them around his waist.

“All right, Aurora,” Celestia said to her reflection as she slowly braided her hair and tail, finishing by recasting the spell to hide her horn. “Let’s go for a walk, shall we?”





A different dress completed her disguise, and she strode confidently out into the afternoon sunlight, feeling its warmth radiating through her clothing. All around, ponies were ending their days, while Celestia was only beginning hers. It made her reflect briefly on how Luna must feel every day.

She was only vaguely aware of where Bon Bon’s Sweets was located, having passed it while she had tested her “Aurora” disguise the other day. Fortunately Ponyville was not an especially large town as of yet, so a brief search did eventually lead her to her target, with only a minimal amount of meandering about on her part.

By the time she arrived at the shopfront, she had a satchel full of apples, a head of lettuce, a bag of tomatoes, and some savory mushrooms. She reasoned that the salad ingredients helped balance her otherwise horrible eating habits of late, not helped by her intent of acquiring pure sugar in the sweet shop.

“Hey, welcome to Bonnie’s Sweeties!” a chipper voice said as she entered.

“H-hello,” Celestia replied, looking around for the voice, only to be startled by its owner staring up at her from an uncomfortably short distance. The mint green unicorn nagged at her memory, she seemed familiar but she could not quite place—

Lyra Heartstrings, Astra supplied. She was a student in your school for a time, and graduated with decent grades, apparently. Just missed getting Magna Cum Laude, but she was still in the ‘with honors’ ranks. Oh, and she was one of your niece’s bridesmares, apparently, one of the ones who disappeared just before the wedding. 

“Bon is working on some recipes right now, but she left me in charge of the shop, so feel free to ask me anything!” Lyra chirped out excitedly. “My name is Lyra, in case I didn’t mention that.”

“Thank you, Lyra,” Celestia responded with a small frown. “I... I was really hoping to see Bon Bon, however. Is there any way—”

“Bonnie’s super busy right now,” Lyra said quickly. “She gets like this sometimes, disappearing for a bit, then she comes back with new candies to try. But listen, I can totally help!” Lyra insisted. She gestured to a wall filled with candies, pointing out individual sweets and reciting their names like a foal showing off artwork to a parent.

Celestia just followed for a time. She’d seen enough presentations by overeager foals and adults alike, going through one more wasn’t particularly onerous to her. She racked her brain for how best to actually make contact with ‘Bon Bon’ without actually breaking Agent Sweetie Drops’ cover, but could not immediately think of one.

Ask her for boysenberry lemondrop. Astra said promptly.

“I’m sorry,” Celestia said just under her breath. “What is that? Boysenberry what?”

Well, boysenberries are a cross species of raspberry and—

“I know what boysenberries are,” Celestis replied crossly.

“Oh!” Lyra said, looking crestfallen. “Sorry, not everypony does.”

Celestia’s ears laid back in sudden dismay, “No, I should be the one to say sorry! I just have a lot on my mind and this isn’t going as I had planned. I really needed to see Ms. Bon Bon, because—”

Tell her you need to place a large order with custom flavors! Astra urged.

“—I needed to place a large order which will include some flavors she doesn’t have on display,” Celestia finished smoothly.

“Oh! Well, I mean, I can check for more—” Lyra offered.

“Do you have Boysenberry Lemondrop?” Celestia asked, smiling sweetly.

“I... I don’t think so.” Lyra admitted, her ears drooping down against her mane. “That does sound nice, though.”

They both started at the sudden muffled sound of an explosion coming from under the floorboards.

Lyra’s ears perked up, her eyes shining excitedly. “That’s her! She must be getting tired, things don’t usually explode until she starts yawning. I‘ll bug her into taking a break so she can talk to you about your order!”

Without waiting for an answer, Lyra dashed past a set of double doors into what appeared to be a storeroom, leaving ‘Aurora’ alone with her thoughts.

They don’t usually explode, eh? That implies sometimes they still do, Astra observed.

“I would expect as much,” Celestia replied. “An agent in an established location with a basement laboratory had likely found all sorts of ways to make explosives and traps and gadgets.”

Isn’t she provided with gadgets and smoke bombs and the like?

“Of course,” Celestia replied with a chuckle. “But even this close to the Everfree, she’d have a lot of downtime. Boredom leads to innovation, which is then often shared with others.”

“Quit shovin’, Lyra!” a voice called out from the stairwell. “At least let me clean up!”

“She’s waiting to talk to you now!” Lyra said insistently.

“Fine!” the voice Celestia presumed to belong to Agent Sweetie Drops replied. “But real quick, okay? I got a lot of testing left to do.”

A very singed and ruffled earth pony emerged from behind the employee doors a moment later, her eyes darting around the room until she spotted her quarry. “Ah, there you are. Sorry Lyra couldn’t help you, but I’ll be happy to take your order.”

Celestia smiled, waving a hoof dismissively. “She was a big help, just unfortunately not the pony I needed to see today.”

“Yeah, she mentioned you wanted some combo pops. I don’t mind mixing flavors, but it might take a bit to finish depending on how many you want.” Sweetie drops replied.

“We’ll get to the order in just a moment, but first...” Celestia held up a single lollipop in her wingtip. “Could I ask you a question about this?”

Sweetie Drops rolled her eyes. “Look, I keep telling ponies, I don’t know how many licks it takes.”

Celestia’s heart skipped a beat, and she frowned, wondering if she had the right pony. “Um... do you suppose forty-two licks might do it?” she asked despite her misgivings.

Sweetie Drops’ eyes opened a little wider, then narrowed. “That’s... an interesting answer.”

She glanced around the room, noting Lyra waiting quietly behind the doors. “Let’s take that order in my office. Got a couple questions I need to ask you about the ratio of the flavors and how you want them mixed.”





Sweetie Drops lead Celestia downstairs, taking her into a small doorway that very nearly made her scrape her horn at the top of the entry despite her diminished form. She gestured to a chair facing the somewhat small desk in the office therein, sitting down in the chair on the opposite side.

“All right,” Sweetie Drops said, settling back in the chair. “Let’s talk about your order.”

Celestia perched precariously on the chair, which would likely have been fine for even the largest of stallions, but was a bit on the small side for her. “Well... that is... I...”

“Shall we drop the pretenses, Ma’am?” Sweetie Drops asked. “You wouldn’t have been given that pass phrase from just anypony.” She nodded briskly. “Agent Sweetie Drops. My friends call me Bon Bon. Do you got orders for me?”

Celestia’s eyebrows rose, but she gave a slow nod herself. “Forgive me. I’m... I need your help, Agent.”

Bon Bon pulled a flask from her desk, pulling the top with her teeth and taking a quick swig of it. She offered the flask to Celestia. “Helps bring things into focus, if you want.”

Celestia hesitated, then extended a wing.

Bon Bon’s own eyebrows rose. “Sweet Celestia, those are huge!” she exclaimed.

Celestia fumbled with the flask, managing to take a swig and simultaneously stifle a giggle at the exclamation of her own name. “They run in my family,” she said as if that explained anything at all. The liquid inside was cool, but burned on the way down, leaving a sweet aftertaste. Her eyes widened in appreciation as she returned the flask.

“So, you got a name?” Sweetie Drops asked as she returned the flask from where it had come from.

“A-Aurora?” Celestia replied after a moment.

There was a piercing look from Sweetie Drops, and for a moment Celestia feared she might be confronted for her hesitation, but no comment was made about it. “Right. And what brings you here, ‘Aurora’?”

“Well... I... I need some help,” Celestia began again. “I need to... observe a target, but I worry I might... Stand out too much?”

Sweetie Drops nodded after a moment. “You’re not kidding. Make 'em tall where you come from, do they?”

“I.. wasn’t always,” Celestia replied evasively.

“We all start off shorter,” Sweetie Drops allowed. “But you don’t usually see your kinda legs on a pegasus.”

“I...”

“Seen a couple unicorns who came close,” Sweetie Drops continued. “Not Pegasi, though. They’re usually more compact. Got any unicorns in the family?”

“Some... distant relations.” Celestia replied. “Cousins and nephews?”

“Right...” Sweetie Drops replied after a long moment. “So what do you need from me, ‘Aurora’?”

“Well... to be honest, I was hoping for some help with my disguise—”

Sweetie Drops let out a sudden derisive laugh. “Boy, you ain’t kidding.”

“I’m... sorry?” Celestia said, confused and a little off put.

“Look, I don’t know why a unicorn would want to look like a Pegasus, but those wings are a little much. Keep 'em closed if you can, they’ll draw even more attention than the rest of you.”

Celestia’s wings tightened to her chest reflexively. “I...”

“That’s good work on the horn. Hard to spot, unless you know what to look for. Dress is a problem, though. The design is eye-catching. You need something more plain. Might need something off the rack from Barnyard Bargains. Some reason you don’t want your mark seen?”

Celestia nodded silently. “It... would be very recognizable.”

Sweetie Drops considered that for a moment. “You mind?” she asked, gesturing to Celestia’s flank.

You had to know this was coming, Astra said flatly.

Celestia hesitated for a mere moment, then used a forehoof to lift the hem of the dress.

Sweetie Drops’ eyebrows lifted higher than they’d ever been, and she let out a barely audible gasp.

“Agent Sweetie Drops...” Celestia said quietly. “Be at ease.”

Sweetie Drops took a moment to take a deep breath. “P-Princ—”

“Just Aurora, please.”

“Aurora,” Sweetie Drops repeated, visibly steadying herself. “Right, Aurora. A Pegasus. Just a Pegasus.”

“With unicorns in my family, yes,” Celestia confirmed. “Earth ponies as well. It’s a large family.”

Sweetie Drops nodded brusquely. “Where is your mission, Pri— ma’am?”

“Canterlot,” Celestia replied.

“You’re... going to stick out even worse there, ma’am.” Sweetie Drops replied. “I... I have something for the mark, if you’ll allow me to help, but the dress will catch the attention of anypony with a critical eye.”

“I won’t need the dress if you can disguise my mark,” Celestia said thoughtfully. “Though it’s much more common to wear dresses in Canterlot, it’s not unheard of to go without.”

“Ma’am... Ms. Aurora...” Sweetie Drops said quietly, looking at her with a far more serious look of concern. “Is... is something wrong?”

“Hmm?” Celestia replied, nonplussed. It took her a moment to pick up on the meaning of the question. “Oh! I’m fine, my little— Ahem. Yes, I’m fine.”

“Do you require more of me than just help with your disguise?” Sweetie Drops pressed with an intent look. “Because if you do, I will be there.”

“Do I require...” Celestia trailed off in confusion.

“Permission to speak freely?” Sweetie Drops asked with a frown.

“Agent, please, treat me as you would any other pony,” Celestia replied without hesitation.

“Ma’am... you’re not here in any official sense. You’ve been declared on sabbatical, at an undisclosed location. You came here to me in an impressive disguise, but I have to wonder why it would be necessary. Are you in danger? Have you been deposed? If necessary, I will have an army at your beck and call within days. Just ask, and I’ll be at your disposal.”

Celestia regarded Sweetie Drops for a long moment before smiling gently. “Agent, I thank you for your concern, but I’m incognito for the very reason you mentioned. I am on sabbatical, recovering from an overexertion on my part. I only require time, and have left the country in my sister’s capable hooves while I regain my strength. I didn’t want anypony to worry excessively, especially not my little ponies here in Ponyville.”

Sweetie Drops frowned again, saying: “Princess... Aurora, whatever you want to call yourself, I... I just know there isn’t a pony here or anywhere that would not drop everything to help you if they could.”

“Agent...” Celestia paused, and took a breath, starting again. “Bon Bon, I believe you said you preferred... I promise you, I’m fine, if a little worse for wear and needing rest. But I have personal business that would be greatly hindered by everypony being aware of my presence, thus the disguise.”

Bon Bon brightened as her nickname was used, even smiling, much to Celestia’s relief. “Okay, if you’re all right, I won’t break your cover. But speaking of covers... what do you need to do, exactly? It’ll help me figure out how we’re gonna play this.”

“I... I need to watch over two ponies who are very important to me,” Celestia began.

“I figured, but more details might help,” Bon Bon replied, gesturing for her to go on, and passing the bottle back to Celestia.

Celestia took the bottle, taking in another long drought. “Right, I suppose... I should start with giving you an idea of what I have to work with, shall I?”

“It’d help to know why you’re not magicking up a disguise, honestly,” Bon Bon replied. “Why a pegasus, when unicorn was the obvious choice?”

“That’s... a big part of why I don’t wish to be seen publicly,” Celestia admitted. “I performed a great feat of magic, and it left my reserves severely diminished. That’s why I am as you see me. And why it was easier to hide my horn. I’m trying to conserve magic use.”

Bon Bon looked Celestia up and down. “You... shrunk?”

“Yes. Alicorn physiology, you see. Gain enough energy and some of it translates to mass, lose enough and, well...”

They talked for some time, Bon Bon occasionally stopping her to ask for clarification, and sometimes just to laugh or jot a note down. She was pleasant to talk to, possessing both a wealth of knowledge about disguises and general espionage and a delightfully down to earth approach to life in general that Celestia supposed came from living under cover successfully in a small farming town.

The note-taking did eventually make Celestia curious, and she asked: “Bon Bon, may I inquire what you’re writing?”

Bon Bon looked up from her scribbling, dropping the pencil with a grin. “Measurements, couple observations, general impressions. Never expected to get details on one of the three known alicorns in Equestria, you see. You’re going in my Bestiary Book!”