Teneat equum Solis

The night had been a very long one for Jon; probably one of the longest of his young life. As he had prophesied, neither him nor Twilight had gotten a wink of sleep. They had instead spent the entire night talking and drinking.

Both the human and princess talked about many things in the quiet darkness of that little room in the middle of the castle. Much of it was uncomfortable, and even a little painful. There was some crying, hugging, a chair was thrown, as were more than a few half-empty bottles. They talked until their throats were raw and their limbs were heavy and their heads hurt from cherry wine and black whiskey that burned going the whole way down.

In the end, Twilight had somehow kept him from drinking himself to death. She also—incredibly—managed to talk him into considering their proposition. He still had his reservations about the whole business, and many, many questions—why wouldn’t he?— but he wasn’t taking the first train out of Canterlot this morning. And that, at least to her, was a start.

As Celestia’s sun came up, and its golden, luminescent rays pierced through the window of that little room, chasing away the shadows and bringing color and life to everything it touched, both the alicorn and the human could sit back and take in the state of themselves.

Twilight’s light purple fur was matted heavily. Her wings, usually so immaculately maintained, now had feathers sticking up at every angle, some of them even broken or torn. Her mane and tail were likewise ruffled and messy, either sticking wetly to her forehead or neck or jutting out every which way. There were dark rings under her half-lidded, drooping eyelids. Her mouth was partially opened, and her cheeks were stained with still-drying tears.

Jon’s state wasn’t much better than hers. His hair was messy and dirty. His eyes were so bloodshot than not a bit of white could be seen in them. Tears were still drying on his slightly clammy, pale face. Both his shirt and pants were wrinkled, smelled heavily of booze, and were torn and ripped in more than a few places.

The two of them were exhausted, both mentally and physically, but it was a good kind of exhaustion. It was the kind of bone-numbing fatigue that one experienced after baring his or her soul—wounds and hopes and all—to another. This exhaustion was a cleansing one, and though Jonathan still felt the cold, hard truths that were realized the day before bearing down upon him, they didn’t seem quite as crushing as they could have been.

“…Twi? Is there anything left in any of those bottles?” the human asked as he closed his eyes, pressing his back against the wall.

Twilight, who was sitting next to him—splayed out with her head on the carpet and her tail tucked between her legs— grunted. One of her eyes lazily opened and she began to paw at the upright bottle in front of her. Her hoof wasn’t quite long enough, but with some steadfast determination and a spell, the long-necked glass bottle was in her grasp.

Cracking open her other eye, its pupil adjusting to the light that was washing over her face, she gave the bottle a little shake. “Nope. It’s empty,” she proclaimed, dropping the bottle onto its side and rolling it away with a flick of her hoof.

Jon groaned. “My head hurts,” he mumbled.

“That’s because you tried to drink Canterlot dry,” the princess pointed out, closing her eyes with a throaty burp. “You dummy.”

Groaning again, the human reached over and shoved his purple friend. “It’s your fault,” he said, sounding more exhausted than accusatory. “If you would have just whacked me like you were supposed to you wouldn’t have me thinking about all of this heavy shit.”

Twilight snorted, giving him a shove right back. “That doesn’t mean that you should be drinking like this.”

“I mean, I’m never going to have kids,” Jon continued, ignoring her statement completely. “Hell, I was never all that into the idea of having a bunch of monsters, but in the back of my head I always kinda thought that it would just… happen.”

He made a vague gesture with both of his hands before letting them drop to the floor. Then he sighed again and tapped the back of his head against the wall.

“I’d find someone nice, we’d get married, fool around for a couple of years. We’d buy a house out in the middle of nowhere, get a sweet car, maybe a dog or a cat or something.” He covered his face with both hands, head angled to the ceiling. “Then one day she’d tell me that she was pregnant, we’d have the fucking kid, then she’d want more and...”

Twilight nuzzled her cheek into the carpet as he trailed off. “You still might be able to have kids, Jon,” she murmured. “You can’t just give up. If this works out, you’ll get all of that and more.”

“That’s the problem. I don’t even know if I want that!” Jon complained. “I mean, what would our kids even look like if we could have them? Would they be some hybrid freak? Would they look like some weirdo human with wings and a horn? Would it be some pony with my hands or feet instead of fucking hooves?!”

“We don’t know,” Twilight confessed, helplessly shrugging. “This is unfamiliar territory. The only thing that we can do—if you want to do it, that is—is keep moving forward and see where this… thing takes us.” She picked her head up. With some finagling, she managed to open both of her eyes so she could look at him. “If it makes you feel any better, most stallions would kill to be in your position.”

He gave her a glare. “If you don’t be quiet I’m going to boop you senseless, you little nerd.”

Twilight, letting her head fall back onto the carpet, stuck her tongue out at him. “Just think about it. Remember, we’re not going to force you into anything.”

Jon just snorted, closing his eyes and banging the back of his head against the wall with so much force that the wall shook. “I’ve been thinking about it all night, Twi,” he said. “The only thing I have for it is sleep deprivation and a nasty hangover.”

Twilight giggled. “You liar,” she said, flicking his arm with her tail. “I know that you’re considering it. I can see it on your face.”

Jon snorted again, vindictively tugging on her tail before she moved it away. “I’m not telling you to fuck off,” he said. “That’s the best that you’re going to get today.”

Twilight, as nauseated and hungover as she was, couldn’t help but smile. “It’ll take it.”

The light pouring through the blinds was beginning to shine in Jon’s face. Grunting, he tried to slap away the light, with very little success.

“So what are we going to do now?” he asked.

Twilight licked her lips, her nose crinkling in disgust as she tasted old, stale booze. Her wings opened and closed—tapping against the now very dirty rug and her friend’s side—and her nose scrunched up in thought.

“Do you wanna go and get something to eat?” she grumbled.

One of the human’s eyes cracked open, regarding her. “…I could go for some pancakes,” he admitted.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

While Twilight would have usually insisted that Jon clean himself up before running around where ponies could see him, today she couldn’t find the energy to do so. As drained as she was, she couldn’t even find the energy to drag herself into a shower. So, as the two of them trudged through the halls in a zombie-like fashion, noble and commoner alike got to see them in all of their filthy, hungover, and haggard glory.

Though given an odd look or two—wherein a group of stallions may or may not have begun whispering to each other in horror—both the human and princess were given a wide berth and mostly left alone. Not that they noticed or even cared, however.

Their pace through the castle was slow. Twilight, while having spent nearly her whole life here, had rarely walked these halls in such a state. More than once, she led the two of them down the wrong corridor to a different section of the castle entirely. On two occasions, they found themselves in a janitor’s closet pawing at brooms and mops. Eventually, however, after some tired, half-hearted arguing and a bit of playful rubbing, the two eventually found themselves in the royal kitchen.

As always, the place was alive with activity. Ponies were scurrying back and forth, carrying plates and pots and ingredients. The sounds and smells of food being prepared were thick in the air. Cooks yelled at other cooks, the sounds of knives slamming against chopping blocks rang out, water screeched as it hit hot steel.

One of the chefs, a light blue pegasus that almost looked as bad as the two of them, perked up when they entered the room. “Good morning, your highness, Mr. Jonathan. Is there anything that I can hel—”

“Coffee,” Jon mumbled.

“Pancakes,” Twilight grunted. “And lots of bacon. Hay for me and pork for him.”

Jon nodded, though the movement seemed to give him just a bit of trouble. “And butter toast. A plateful.”

“Make the coffee black please.”

“I want the bacon as crispy as you can make it. The blacker the better.”

“And we want a lot of syrup for the pancakes.”

“Lots.”

The chef, surprised by the barrage of request, took a nervous step backward. “Um, ah, alrighty then,” she said, her gaze flicking between the two. “We’ll get all of that ready for you right away! Now, if you’ll just make your way to the dining area, Princess Celestia is already there waiting for you.”

The two grunted—Twilight nearly falling over as the world decided to begin spinning—before very slowly, and very, very carefully turning around and doing as the chef asked.

The castle’s dining room—as it always was in the morning—was filled to the brim with ponies. The smell of syrup and orange juice was thick in the air. All around, ponies were laughing and joking and jostling each other. The mood was light and happy and carefree, but not infectious however, if the way that Twilight and Jonathan stared at the room with dead, pained, lifeless eyes was any indication.

“It’s too loud in here,” Twilight mumbled with a flick of her tail.

“I wanna turn that big, bright light off,” Jon said, covering his face with a hand.

“That big light is the Sun, Jon.”

“I know what I said, Twi.”

Twilight cracked a small smile. “Come on, we have to go to the princess's personal dining room,” she said, bumping his side lightly with her rump. “Princess Celestia will be waiting there for us.”

The two navigated the crowds with little fuss, making their way through the massive room and toward the back, where a pair of guards were stationed on either side of a golden, ornate door.

Seeing them, both guards saluted. “Good morning your highness, Jonathan,” one of the guards said, quickly reached over and opening the door. “Please go inside. Princess Celestia is expecting you.”

Mumbling their thanks, both Twilight and Jon stepped through the door and into a very small, very plain room.

Its walls were white, with very little in the way of decoration. The floors were made of a type of hardwood and polished to a sheen. At the center of this room was a table with four old but comfortable-looking wooden chairs. Seated in one of these chairs, nibbling on a donut with a steaming cup of black coffee beside her, was Princess Celestia.

The princess was slumped forward slightly. Her mane hung limply against her neck. While she was wearing her peytral and crown they hung on her oddly. Her amethyst eyes were bloodshot and there were bags under her partially closed eyes. She looked, for all the world, like she was ready to fall asleep right there at the table.

“Didn’t get much sleep either, huh?” Jon asked.

The princess jumped, sending her donut flying across the room with a yelp. She quickly looked up at the two of them, her eyes wide.

“Twilight? Jonathan?” Seeing the state that she was in, she quickly righted herself and cleared her throat. “Good morning. I had not expected the two of you for a few more hours. Come, come, sit.”

Her horn glowed. Each of the empty chairs were pulled out. “Have the two of you ordered yourselves breakfast?” she asked, doing her best not to stare at Jonathan. “If not, I can have a servant come and take your order.”

Jon was the first one to move, walking over to the table and sitting down. Though he looked just a bit uncomfortable, he sat down right next to the princess. Celestia—though she stiffened just a hair—made no comment as Twilight took the seat on the other side of the table parallel to the two of them.

“We already went to the kitchen and ordered, princess,” she said with a smile. “But thank you for offering.”

Celestia smiled back at her. Though most would have thought it just a regular smile, Twilight had been around the princess long enough to know that it was a nervous one. A very nervous one.

“Very good,” she said, her wings unconsciously twitching.

She looked over at Jonathan, who was staring at the table quietly with his hands in his lap. She then looked back over at Twilight, who continued to smile brightly at her.

A certain tension began to grow in the room. Though Twilight and Jon barely felt it—the two of them just focused on not falling out of their chairs—Celestia could feel it very well. It made the fur on the back of her neck stand on end. Anxiousness began to grow in her stomach. Each passing second that was spent in silence felt like an hour.

Finally, after about five minutes of this, Celestia could take no more.

“Jonathan? Have you considered my… proposition?” she asked, just able to keep the tremble out of her voice. “If it doesn’t interest you in any way I understand. I will not force you to—”

“Twilight’s nearly talked me into it,” Jon interrupted, lifting his arms up and letting them fall onto the table with a meaty smack. “I think anyways.”

The princess trailed off as Twilight’s smile doubled in size. “She…has?” she said slowly, carefully, as if she suddenly expected him to get up and run out of the room at any moment.

Jon nodded. “I’m not a hundred percent on board, but I’m not totally against the idea,” he said, keeping his gaze glued firmly onto the table in front of him. “I have no idea if this is going to work, or if I even want it to work, and I don’t know if this is just the lack of sleep talking, but I’m willing to put my feet in the water and see where this takes me. Takes us.”

As he finished, a complete change swept through the princess. Her slightly tense and guarded body language dissolved away. Tears began to form out of the corners of her eyes. A smile, bright and honest and happy spread across her face.

Without a second thought, she leapt from her chair and over to the human, her wings fully extended. Before he could do anything, her hooves wrapped around his middle, forcing him against her furry chest.

Jon stiffened in surprise as she began to nuzzle the side of his face in unbridled, unrestrained joy. “Thank you,” she murmured, encasing him within her wings. “Thank you.”

He could smell the vanilla and chocolate on her shockingly soft coat as he could before, but there was also the barest scent of alcohol on her person as she rocked the two of them back and forth.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” she whispered breathlessly, again and again and again, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Without thinking, Jon tried to push away from the hug, only to be forced right back against the very big and very strong mare’s chest. She was warm, almost incredibly so, and underneath that thin layer of plush fur he could feel bundles of hard, corded muscle tense and flex each time that she moved. Her massive wings tightened around his back, further encasing him in a feathery cocoon of heat and comfort.

“Thank you.”

The human tried to struggle for a few moments more before sighing. Letting his body go limp, he slowly wrapped his arms around her and gave her a little squeeze. Celestia hugged him all the harder, quietly repeating her mantra over and over as she rubbed herself against him like a happy cat.

“…Um, excuse me, your highness?”

Celestia paused her nuzzling to look somewhere behind him. “…Good morning, Silver Chalice,” she said, her voice gentle and motherly, with just a hint of embarrassment mixed in.

Jon, squished up against the big princess, tried to once again untangle himself from the mass of hooves and wings. Celestia, feeling him squirming and wiggling, held him all the tighter.

“I… um, should I perhaps come at another time, your majesty?” the mystery pony asked anxiously, rocking back and forth, which caused his hooves to tip-tap against the polished floors.

The princess quickly shook her head. “Of course not, I’m sure that Twilight is very hungry. Please, set the plates and mugs on the table.”

“I… and… of course, Princess.”

Behind him, Jon could hear the pony—no doubt a servant or something of the like—work quickly in setting the plates and everything else onto the table. A little too quickly, perhaps, if the sounds of plates hitting the wooden table a little too hard were any indication.

“T-There you go, Princess Twilight, enjoy.”

Twilight giggled. Whether it was from nervousness or because the alicorn found his situation amusing he couldn’t guess. “Thank you very much, Silver. It looks delicious.”

“Yes, um, well, thank you, your grace. Would the thre—two! Would the two of you like anything else?”

“I’d like to be freed, please,” Jon said as best as he could through flesh and feather and fur. “Pretty please. With a cherry on top. A big cherry.”

Both princesses giggled, albeit a bit nervously.

“He’s fine,” Twilight reassured, the chair squeaking as she shifted her weight. “The princess is just giving him a hug. A, um, very in-depth hug”

“It’s… It’s none of my business what my lady d-does in the privacy of her own dining r-room,” the servant shakily replied. “If that is all, I w-will take my leave, your highnesses. Good d-day.”

The hurried hoofsteps that rang out immediately after that signaled that the servant didn’t quite run out of the room, but it was a near thing.

The second that a door could be heard closing, both Celestia and Twilight’s laughter filled the air. The Princess of the Sun released Jonathan from his warm, soft, feathery prison and took a step back. Tears were still streaming down her face, but she had a smile from ear-to-ear.

“Forgive me, Jonathan. I am just… excited,” she professed as the human dusted himself off. Her horn glowed, pushing in his seat. With another spell, a plate full of food and a cup of coffee was floated over to him. “Please eat. You must be famished.”

Jon took a deep breath—noticing, with a hint of trepidation, that the princess’s scent now clung to him—and looked down at his food. He picked up a piece of black, shriveled bacon, and popped it into his mouth. He shivered as the sharp, burnt taste hit him in the back of his jaw like a punch, coating his tongue and overpowering his senses. It was just how he liked it.

“So how is this going to work? Because I’m not just going to take my pants off and have at it,” he said, eyeing Twilight. “Are you guys going to give me a turkey baster or something so we can artificially inseminate or…”

Both of the princesses looked at him in confusion as he trailed off.

“…Artificially inseminate? What the hay is that?” Twilight asked, cocking her head to the side.

Wiping the bacon grease from his lips, Jon opened his mouth to answer. “See, you take the sperm from someone and you…” He trailed off again, thinking hard. “You take the sperm and you shove it into a girl’s womb… I think?” His shoulders sagged as his mind drew a blank. “To be honest, I don’t know a whole lot about it…”

“I do not think I want inanimate objects being shoved anywhere, thank you very much,” Celestia said, looking slightly horrified. “Especially a “turkey baster”, whatever in harmony’s name that is.”

“Nopony’s shoving anything weird into anypony,” Twilight said as she popped a piece of toast into her mouth. “Because I have a much better idea!”

In three quick bites—that sent crumbs and bits of half-melted butter everywhere—Twilight finished her toast. She smacked her lips, reaching for a piece of hay bacon.

“Jonathan doesn’t see ponies in a romantic sense, which is very important in getting a stallion to, um, perform,” she said matter-of-factly, taking a huge bite out of the bacon. “This means that we’ll have to work you up to it gradually.” Chewing nasally, she quickly swallowed and stuffed the rest of the bacon into her mouth. “According to Soft Hooves’ pyramid of intimacy, there are three stages of affection.”

“Nerd,” Jon muttered, only for a piece of toast to smack him on the forehead a moment later.

“The first tier, or stage, is general affection, here a pony will hug, touch, and perhaps nuzzle another pony without either feeling uncomfortable,” the purple princess continued. “This is the beginning of two pony’s relationship. The second stage is increased affection, where kissing, some exploration and appreciation of the body, even some heavy petting may occur.” Picking up her fork, Twilight began cutting her pancakes into squares. “The third stage is intimacy. This is when the…” She trailed off, tapping her hooves together a few times before clearing her throat. “When they, you know, become intimate.”

Stabbing the pancakes, then a few pieces of bacon, then a piece of toast, Twilight brought the jumbled mass of food to her lips and engulfed it. She closed her eyes and hummed, her cheeks bulging as she chewed. Swallowing, she coughed, quickly grabbing her coffee and taking a few hurried sips before letting out a sigh of relief and then a burp.

“Oh, excuse me,” she said, putting her mug down and wiping her mouth with the back of her hoof. “That might be the most clear-cut, dummies’ guide version of the pyramid of affection, but that’s the gist of it. We have to bear this in mind as we work Jon here up to ‘do the deed’ as they say.”

Jon frowned. “So you’re saying that you’re going to help us solve this mess by using a patented three-step plan?” he asked, brow furrowing in disbelief as he leaned back in his chair. “Next you’re gonna want to sell me a nice piece of land on the moon.”

Celestia smiled at the jab. “I don’t think you’ll have any issues with that, Jonathan,” she said, hopping back into her seat. “My sister doesn’t seem interested in real estate.”

Twilight shoved another mouthful of pancakes into her gullet. “You’ve lived amongst ponies long enough to already be used to the first level of affection,” she said, nearly spitting up half of her food in the process. “You already hug and hold ponies without getting uncomfortable.”

“I don’t get uncomfortable most of the time,” Jon corrected. He looked away from Twilight as a shudder ran up his body. “Trust me. There’s some ponies that I don’t want near me with a ten-foot pole.”

A certain far-too old jenny came to mind. There was also that little filly that was strong enough to lift up entire buildings with one hoof. Shivering again, he took a bite out of some toast, his brow furrowed and his eyes cloudy.

“Even so, you’ve been here long enough to be properly immersed in the first level,” Twilight retorted, pointing her fork at him. “And, even if you don’t realize it, there’s a good chance that you’ve started to naturally become acquainted with the second step. If we let it occur naturally, I’m guessing that in a year or two at the most a mare would be able to snatch you right up without a problem and you’d be completely fine with it.”

Jon and Celestia exchanged glances, one of them unsure and the other still a little nervous.

“…Okay, all of this psychoanalytic stuff is great and all, but you still haven’t told us what we’re going to be doing,” Jon stressed as his fingers drummed against the table.

Smiling to herself, Twilight rested her hooves on the table and leaned forward, her tail flicking side-to-side. “It’s simple, my little human. We’re going to drastically shorten the transition time from one step to another,” she said, as smug and confident as he had ever seen her. “And to do that we’ll need the two of you, a big bed, and a bunch of candles.”

~-~-~-~-~-~

The bed hadn’t been very hard to find. There were many, many beds—of all shapes and sizes— in Canterlot Castle. All it had taken was a request from Celestia and the servants had gone running.

The candles had also been simple. All that was needed was a quick trip down to the market via teleport and two dozen pumpkin-scented candles—Jon’s favorite—had been purchased and brought back to the castle.

All of this had—surprisingly—been brought back to the room that Jonathan and Twilight had all but trashed the night before. Under the purple princess’s supervision, the room had been cleaned, the old bed and much of the furniture had been removed. Candles had been placed all around the room—some of them sitting on shelves, some of them floating on the air—and lit. The blinds had been closed and the lights had been turned off so that only warm, flickering candlelight illuminated the room. The air smelled heavily of burnt wicks and pumpkin and newly washed sheets. Other than some light breathing, the room was completely silent.

Jonathan—having cleaned himself up a few hours’ prior—was sitting on one side of the bed, nervously fidgeting with the covers. Celestia—also cleaned up and without her finery—was seated on the other side of the bed with her tail wrapped around her rump.

The mood in the room wasn’t exactly tense. There was a bit of nervousness, yes, as was there a bit of trepidation and hesitation to begin this journey, but there was also some excitement. This was the first step to something that could change the world or shatter hearts. A lot of hope was riding on this—hope that could be completely and utterly unfounded—and everyone in the room could feel it.

Twilight, who was sitting in the corner with a notepad in her lap and a jar of ink at hoof, cleared her throat. “Alright. Is everything in the room to your liking?” she asked, tapping the tip of her quill against her notepad. “Do you want me to get anything else? Do you need more light? Different types of sheets? Maybe you want something to drink before you lay down?”

She turned her head to Jon. “What about you, ‘Jon? Is there anything that you need? I know how fussy you colts get in these situations.”

The human shook his head. “Nah. I think I’m good.”

Celestia shook her head in agreement. “I don’t think I’ll be needing anything else as well,” she added, half-extending her wings before tucking them back into her sides.

Twilight nodded, scribbling something or another onto her paper. “Alrighty then. Let’s get down to business!” she chirped.

Both Jon and Celestia jumped at the sudden change of volume, snapping their heads over to look at her with a pair of frowns.

Twilight’s smile turned sheepish, her ears pinning themselves against the sides of her head as she hid behind her notebook. “Sorry. I’m just a little… excited.”

“We can tell,” Jon dryly remarked before looking over at Celestia. “Are you ready, pri—”

“Remember Jon, we need you to be completely comfortable around the princess,” Twilight quickly interrupted. “No titles, no formal names, nothing like that.”

Celestia smiled. “I commend your manners, Jonathan, but Celestia will be more than enough.”

“Then you’re going to have to start calling me Jon,” the human replied. “Every time I hear Jonathan I think I’m about to be yelled at.”

Celestia sweetly giggled, covering her mouth with a hoof to hide her smile. “It’s a deal. Now—” Her horn glowed, pulling the topmost cover halfway down the bed. She gestured toward the mattress, her purple eyes almost glowing in the candlelight. “—lord’s first.”

Jon thickly swallowed, looking down at the bed before looking up at the princess. Celestia just smiled encouragingly, tapping a wing against the covers.

“Alrighty then. Here I go…”

The bed creaked as he swung around and crawled into it, wiggled a few inches, and rolled onto his side. Celestia, seeing this, quickly rolled into the bed as well and began to make herself comfortable. It took some quiet coordination, but eventually the two of them found themselves both lying on their sides about a foot from each other. With a simple spell the covers were then thrown over their bodies, fully tucking them in.

Twilight, with a pleased smile, nodded. “Very good. Now remember, don’t take things too fast. If either of you are uncomfortable with touching tonight, then don’t do it. You want to get comfortable in each other’s presence first and foremost.” She looked down at her notepad, flipping through its pages. “Talking to each other, getting to know one another, will help with that.”

Jon eyes narrowed slightly in concern as he stared back at the princess. “Are you gonna be alright with me being this close to you?” he questioned. “I know how some of you ponies get when you’re in season.”

Celestia playfully scoffed. “I’ll have you know that I’m not some filly that cannot control herself, my little human,” she said, puffing her chest out. “I will be fine.”

Jon couldn’t help but smile—as nervous as it was—scooting a little closer. Celestia smiled back, scooting a bit closer as well.

“So, Jon, Twilight has told me that you’ve been given employment at the local sweet shop in Ponyville,” the Princess of the Sun said, nuzzling her cheek into her pillow. “How has that been treating you?”

“It’s alright. Bonbon can be a bit of a hardass sometimes, but it pays pretty well,” the human said, the bed creaking as he wiggled around to get more comfortable, trying to ignore the anxiousness in his stomach. “It’s a pretty fun job all-in-all. We make a lot of candy down there, and I really get a kick out of seeing grown ponies running around the store like a bunch of kids.”

Candlelight danced off Celestia’s coat as she smiled. “I’m very happy to hear that. Once, a very long time ago, I was a candy maker myself.”

“Oh?”

Celestia nodded, scooching a hair closer toward him. “Back then we didn’t have nearly as many candies. All we made were some chocolates and this very chewy type of gum that we made out of tree sap. I remember the work being very hard, but I still remember it very fondly.”

“It’s always nice to come home smelling like butter and chocolate and sugar,” Jon admitted, wiggling just a hair closer. “I really had to cut down on the sweets though. I gained something like twenty pounds the first two months working there.”

“If you’ve gained any weight you hide it very well.”

“That’s because I started taking up running. You kind of have to in Ponyville, what with all of the parties and Pinkie shoving cake into everyone’s mouth every five seconds…”

For the next few hours, the two talked. They talked about many things; work, their friends, hobbies, thoughts on the world and all in it. None of the talk was very deep or personal, but it didn’t have to be.

During these few hours, the two continued to inch closer and closer toward each other as Twilight frantically observed, recorded, and hypothesized in the background.

“—I don’t know what to tell you, Jon. I can have somepony go down to Ponyville, but I don’t think it would do you any good.”

Jon sighed, picking his head up to give a certain purple princess in the corner of the room the stink eye, which said princess purposefully ignored. “I’d still appreciate it. If the Apples see some government employee running around asking questions, they might actually let some other fruit besides apples in the market. I’m sick of eating fucking apples every single day.”

“If you’d like, I could start sending you a fruit basket,” Celestia offered, not bothering to hide her amusement or her smile.

“No, that wouldn’t work,” Jon sourly replied. “The second that a pear or an orange makes its way into town Applejack somehow knows about it. I swear to god that mare is part bloodhound. If you sent that basket she’d be knocking on my door holding a baseball bat in ten minutes.”

Jon unconsciously moved a bit closer to the princess. He was just about to continue his rant on the Apple’s iron-grip on the fruit market when his chest bumped into something. Quickly looking down, he realized that he was finally chest-to-chest with his bedmate.

Celestia noticed this as well, looking down before giving him an unsure smile. “Jon? Would it be alright if I…” she trailed off, touching his shoulder with a hoof before pulling it away.

Jon looked back down at his blanket-covered body before nodding. “Sure, if you want—”

“I do, if that’s alright with yo—”

“Yeah, it’s alright. Really. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep. As sure as I can be sure right now.”

The two looked into each other’s eyes for a moment—neither saying a word— before bursting into giggles.

“My apologies, Jon,” the princess said with a shake of her head. “I must admit, I am far more nervous than I thought I’d be.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” the human agreed. “I’m a little… something too.” He looked up at her with a half-smile. “But it’s not as bad as it was a little while ago.”

One of his arms shifted under the covers, moving forward until his hand was on the princess’s belly. Celestia twitched, a quiet gasp escaping her lips as he gave it a pat.

“So don’t worry about it. If you want to put a hoof around me or whatever I’ll be alright with it. And if I do start to freak out I’ll tell you about it—”

“And I’ll make sure to release you right away,” the princess interrupted, the sincerity in her voice touching her bed-buddy. “As I said before, I do not wish to force you into anything that you are uncomfortable with. I will not do that to you, Jon.”

“And if you’re uncomfortable with me touching you just say,” he replied, looking up at her. “I’ll back off then too.”

“Of course.”

“Alrighty then.”

The two looked away from each other, fidgeting under the blanket. Though she had his permission to do so, Celestia did not touch him. She continued to lie there, hugging her hooves to her chest as if her life depended on it.

Though he was just as nervous as her, Jon was the first to cave in. He slid the hand that he still had on the alicorn’s belly and began to move it upward. His fingers dug into her incredibly warm, amazingly soft coat, parting and teasing the fur. Celestia twitched, her mouth partially opening into a silent gasp.

He could feel her muscles tensing under his touch as his fingers left her belly and moved up to her chest. The fur was longer there, denser. As it grew longer, it began to curl and bunch up like regular hair. For some reason, as he ran his fingers through the mass of fur, he couldn’t help but think of an old middle-aged Italian man with his chest hair sticking out past his nose. The thought caused him to giggle childishly.

The princess stiffened at the sound. “…Jon? Might I ask what is so funny?” quietly asked, just a hint of panic in her voice.

Jon brought his other hand up to the alicorn’s chest and continued to play with her “chest hair”, savoring its warmth and texture against his fingers. “I just thought of something really funny out of nowhere,” he said. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

Celestia gently frowned, her tail flicking underneath the covers. “If you’re positive…”

“You know, you’re really soft,” Jon murmured, yawning hugely. “Really soft and warm. Kinda like a big, furry dog, except you can talk.” His eyes drooped, forcing him to shake his head. “So, what were you saying about your sister?”

Celestia, feeling the human playing with her tuft, quickly found her courage. Eyeing him carefully, she slowly wrapped a foreleg around him. She tensed, ready to pull it away from him if he showed any signs of discomfort, but all he did was sigh. Releasing the breath that she didn’t realize she had been holding, she smiled once more.

“We were discussing my sister’s dietary habits, yes?” she questioned.

Jon nodded, yawning again. “Yeah, you were saying something about how no pony should be able to eat as many gummy worms in a day as she can,” he replied, his voice calm and even.

Feeling a little braver, the princess began to rub her hoof against his clothed back. “Yes, yes, thank you for reminding me.”

Celestia found herself yawning as Jon’s body heat mingled with hers. She could feel the slight rise and fall of his chest with each breath that he took. His legs—also covered in clothing—brushed against her back legs every moment or so. She could also feel those soft, smooth, nearly hairless hands of his tugging at the fur on her chest.

Instinctively, she pressed herself against him a little more firmly. With each breath that she took she could smell the candles, the pumpkin and the flames. She could also smell him. The shampoo he had used in his hair, the fruity soap he had scrubbed his body with, along with something else that she couldn’t quiet identify.

She could feel her eyes growing heavy, the lack of sleep from the night before rearing its ugly head, but she fought to stay awake. She yawned again, this time having the presence of mind to cover her mouth with a hoof. “Yes… well, as I was saying, I have asked her time and time again to cut back on the sweets. I myself can’t deny that I enjoy a bit of sugar during the day, but even I know when too much is too much.”

Jon’s breathing was slowing down, becoming even and gentle. Whatever little tension that he still carried in his body melted away. He could feel the thump-thump of Celestia’s heart against his chest with each breath that she took. His lack of sleep was beginning to weigh down on him as well. He could feel it tugging at the edges of his being –making his body feel like lead and his eyes so terribly heavy— but still he fought to stay awake.

“The next time that she gets them, pour salt into the bag and shake it up real well,” he whispered, nuzzling his pillow. “The taste will make her pitch ‘em.” He tried to shake his head again but couldn’t quite manage it. “If you keep doing that for a couple of weeks she’ll probably swear ‘em off.”

Celestia failed to comment on his advice, fast asleep. Not a minute later he joined her.

In the corner of the room, Twilight Sparkle couldn’t help but grin to herself excitedly as she continued to scribble on her notepad. “Test One-A has gone as expected,” she murmured, watching the two peacefully snoozing. “Subject One has no reservations about being touched or even cuddled. This, in part, may be the result of Pinkie Pie and her predisposition of surprise bed-aided cuddles. Will have to somehow thank her on a later date.”

She looked down at her notes, frowned, and used her quill to scribble something out. “No, no… I don’t want to positively reinforce her behavior, no matter how useful it was in this situation. Too many ponies already come to me with complaints.”