Bad Moon on the Rise

Chapters

It's Bound to Take Your Life

It's Bound to Take Your Life

Author's Note

Again, a huge thanks to Pascoite for spending most of Christmas Eve helping with the editing pass of this.

I also must apologize to everyone, because I broke a rule and went beyond the word hard cap. I know it's there to keep people from being over achievers (which if you know me, I'm not in the slightest), and whatever repercussions I must face then so be it, but damn it all when a story must be then a story must be. This was not to make anyone feel put out for writing shorter stories VS longer ones, because I understand that feeling.

This had turned more... therapeutic for me, and I had to indulge myself.

I have been on the struggle bus with anything that's not been work related, or taking care of my mother, or my father. That's 3 places I'm bouncing around every week, to the point I'm burning through two tanks of gas in my truck and I'm on the road probably 4 hours a day. I know you guys don't care, but that pertains to why this story is so long.

A couple weeks ago, I was finally able to sit down with Fregz and work out an outline for the story, which was awesome. Got some good structure, good ideas flowing. Then, three days ago, I was finally able to actually sit down and begin writing.

And then I wrote more. And more...

Before I realized it, by the morning of Christmas Eve I had over 9k words, and I was in a panic because I was maybe half way into the story. I should have stopped there, and just wrote a fluff romance scene and saved the rest of this for another time.

But... for the first time since November of 2020, I was actually writing, and not only that, enjoying the writing. So, I kept going, and I know it's a bit selfish of me, but not only was I feeling like this was a gift for Peer, but it was beginning to feel like a gift to myself, because I was getting words out, a story was being born, and damn did it feel good.

I had to skip a lot of ideas and plans, because obviously it was apparent I was about to write a 30 to 50k romance story that would have put me in a early grave, or had Pascoite or Fregz knocking on my door with baseball bats.

So, consequences be damned. PeerImagination, I hope you enjoy this, because Nightmare Moon isn't a normal character I tend to write, and boy was it a struggle not to make her too much like Luna.

To all of you, whoever you are, thank you, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and Bah Humbug!

It's Bound to Take Your Life

For the last nine hundred years, Nightmare Moon, the once, future, and rightful mare to the throne of Equestria, and all that inhabited her realm, had festered in imposed solitude upon a dark, desolate rock thousands of miles from the planet she called home. Days passed slowly, the atmosphere thin, almost nonexistent, and so cold no water could flow without the warmth of magic. Her hunger was eternal, her thirst everlasting, and the rage for her so-called sister endless.

How much fun it would be, she wondered, to imprison Celestia on the sun. One eye is taken for an eye, as ponies once said.

After the ninth century, if anything, she simply became bored.

Oh sure, she had literal manuscripts, bibles and encyclopedias written in her favor, and ready at an instant to change the world for the better. Make it hers, and hers alone.

But first she had to actually get back down there, and while she tried to force herself, it wouldn’t ever become a reality.

“Stupid curse.”

Using her time wisely, she’d constructed upon the dark side of the moon, so that Celestia wouldn’t notice and possibly retaliate, a grand fortress that made their castle seem like a dwarf in comparison. Granted, she was sure by now they’d fixed it up and enlarged it, but she was confident that her Moon Palace was far greater.

If only it wasn’t so… empty.

Sure, she made pony models out of moon dust and water she’d ripped from traveling comets, but all she could remember were some of her old castle staff, how they’d looked and their general demeanor.

Surely they were all dead now, which suited her just fine, the traitors.

One thing was for certain, however: her time was coming, and it was coming soon. Soon, she would return, soon, she would have her revenge. Soon, she would rule the world and ponies would have to love her night!

She cackled a mighty neigh, kicking her moon dust table into a pile, taking her moon dust chess board, and part of her moon dust opponent’s left foreleg.

Returning to all four hooves, she looked over the mess she’d made, huffed, then with a wave of magic flattened the rest of the table, and her opponent who sucked at chess and sat down on her rump with a huff.

That was when, from a corner of her eyes, she saw something moving in her night sky.

Well, it wasn’t entirely hers right now, because she was locked on her moon, but it would be hers again soon.

However, that was the least of her thoughts at the current moment as she watched something traveling at an alarming speed head towards the border of her dark side, and the light side in which she refused to enter and give Celestia any satisfaction in seeing her.

Besides, she’d already made the mural of her image shortly after arriving, and she felt that was sufficient enough to antagonize the bleeding heart of a sibling.

This new thing intrigued her. In all the centuries she’d been here, not once had Celestia tried to send any correspondence, nor any care packages to ensure her survival.

Being an alicorn had its advantages, but still a little assistance wouldn’t have been too much to ask.

The more she watched this thing, the more Nightmare Moon began to raise her brow. It was coming in way too fast for anything living on board to survive, yet she could tell with a magical probe (once it entered her moon’s gravitational pull) that it was intended to house living things. And, interestingly, there were three beings on board.

Whoever, or possibly whatever they could be, they wouldn’t survive at this current rate.

So, with a push and a shove of her magic, she was able to alter the capsule’s course so it wouldn’t be totally annihilated upon impact. Something might survive, but whatever they were couldn’t be anything worth her time.

No being with a lick of sense would come visit her, as much as she was sure her many followers would have wished to do so. With any luck, they were still down there, doing her name its fair justice.

Still, she watched as her magic did its duty, and the large piece of metal crashed onto her moon’s surface about a day’s trot from the castle. Of course, she could simply teleport, so using a large chunk of crystal as a mirror, she made sure her armor was neat, her mane and tail menacing, and her dark purple, nearly black, coat was smooth.

If anything had survived the crash, she wanted to make sure she was every bit imposing and looking of the highest authority, which she was.

With a pop, she teleported out of the room, and towards the direction of the crash.

One of the dust pony maids' heads fell off from the wave of magic.

—-------

She had managed to get close, but it would still be several minutes’ walk, which was fine by her. While she’d been using magic to keep herself nourished, it was still draining, and she needed the exercise to prevent herself from turning into dust.

Upon her return, she would need to be swift in dealing with her sister and assuming command, for she didn’t know how much longer her magic could sustain her before she’d become weak and nearly defenseless while her magic recovered back on Equus.

Her moon, while a beautiful place, lacked any real magical abilities, hence why she and her sister had to move it themselves.

Walking over a crater’s edge, she looked down and found the metal capsule which had housed three beings. With her magic, she scanned it again, and frowned slightly.

Two of the beings were dead, most likely from the impact. One, however, was still alive, heart beating at an alarmingly high rate. If this was a pony, they were on the verge of a heart attack or exerting themselves greatly.

Stepping down into the crater, she noted the damage was extensive, several panels torn off, the one side crushed as it had landed, then rolled. There was a massive tear, where she could sense actual oxygen was leaking through, which caused a brow to raise. She gave it a sniff, and took a deep breath of it.

Straightening herself up, she found what looked like a door and knocked.

There was no response.

Frowning further, she knocked again, and still the being’s heart rate was high, but they seemed alive, if barely.

There was no way she could talk, since sound wouldn’t travel in the moon’s lack of atmosphere (besides in her magical moon castle), and so simply grabbed the door and pulled.

It didn’t budge.

Eyebrow twitching, she poured some more magic into it and tried again, and again she had little to no result.

Whatever was holding the door shut, it was complicated, heavy duty, and could only be unlocked from the inside.

Instead, she then switched over to the gash on the side of the ship. It was already a weak point, and so she began to rip away at the outer tin shell, then pulling strange yellow cloth-like material, then foil, and lastly another layer of tin, and she had the hole big enough to put her head inside.

Cautiously, she did so, her helm scraping on jagged edges, but doing no harm to the magical armor.

There was stuff scattered everywhere, many things she didn’t recognize. Small tubes, pouches, rectangular debris, and then she saw the first body.

In fact, when she looked, all three of the bodies were seated in a strange-looking seat, facing down, arms and legs dangling. There was also blood soaking into part of one of the arms.

The beings were not equine, but they wore strange white suits that looked like puffers, and helmets with golden visors.

Holding the three bodies were a series of restraints, and noticeably a red button on the center of each. With her magic, she released the first one, and with some more widening of her hole, fished the body out.

It was dead.

She tossed it aside.

The next body was hissing loudly, and as she removed it, the golden glass face of its helmet was smashed, Along with another, clear lens, and more oxygen was being sucked out. The being’s face was smashed, cut, eyes bulged out like a dead fish. She grimaced, but she’d seen the bodies of war before, so simply tossed it with the other one.

The third, upon release, twitched and moved slightly.

It didn’t try to resist or fight her off, simply content with being limp and malleable to her magic. She looked at her reflection on the gold shield, then noticed a handle on the side; she was able to slide it over.

The second glass, clear, had a small crack and was hissing out oxygen, but not too alarmingly much. With a spell she was able to mend the glass, and not have the being die on her right away.

It had a large gash on its forehead, and blood was all over inside the helmet, but mostly it was intact, and breathing.

It had a small face, little nose in the middle, diminutive eyes although they were closed, with thick eyebrows. The rest of its head was covered in a white material, but its mouth just below its nose was parted slightly, and she could see a few white teeth.

She squinted at it, bringing her face closer to it.

Then placed an ear to the glass, and swore she heard it mumbling.

Pulling back, she looked to the other two bodies. She could easily toss this one away as well, forget all of this and return to her castle none the wiser and continue her planning.

On the other hoof… she’d been doing that for nine centuries, and this being might prove to drive away some of her boredom.

Better, maybe she could manipulate it, control it, and she’d have an actual servant again.

It was settled. She placed the being upon her back, arms and legs dangling off her sides and holding down her wings. No matter, she was going to teleport, and while her normal self could handle so much multicasting… she was growing weaker, and needed to reserve.

Sighing, she walked to the place in which she had teleported to originally, found her mana signature, and teleported herself and this strange being back to her castle.

—-------

Nightmare Moon wasn’t sure why she had made an infirmary in her castle when she was the only one here, but she had to remind herself that this castle was the outcome of several centuries of careful thought and planning, for when she returned and destroyed their old castle for good, this would be the template for her newly constructed home.

She had stripped the being of his complicated suit, and realized it had tanks supplying oxygen. Turning those off so not to waste, she then took the being down to basic clothes, then fully nude to inspect.

It was definitely a he, and she understood why he had an extra pair of smaller pants concealing his male organ, and had replaced them once she was sure no injuries were apparent.

Mostly, all of his injuries were upper body. He had a nasty gash across his forehead, and she had used some of his clothing to wrap it, inadvertently covering his eyes, but maybe that would be to her advantage when, or if, he awoke.

Several of his ribs were cracked, but none seemed to be of huge concern, and so she had modified some of his suit to constrict his surprisingly hairy chest, enough so he could still breathe, but still keep him together to allow healing.

She couldn’t use up any more of her precious magical reserves in healing this alien being, instead figuring either he’d heal on his own or die, que sera sera.

After a couple of days, she had grown bored of watching him lay still and breathe, forcing water into his mouth, and had wandered off. Several hours later, she returned, and found the container of water drained, and the being licking his lips.

Then, more shockingly, it turned its head towards her, still wrapped up, and weakly smiled.

“I thought I heard a couple of people coming, but are you in heels or something?”

Caught off guard, Nightmare Moon blinked, then looked down to her armored shoes.

“No, these are Our combat shoes. Harder than any natural metal, and enchanted to crush stone with a single stomp.”

His head quirked to the side. “That… is weird, but okay sure. Uh… I’m sure my head is wrapped ’cause I’m hurt, but uh… I can’t see so… where am I?”

“Thou art on Our moon.”

“Your—what?” He laughed. “Or, is that a joke or something?”

“No.”

He actually flinched at the stiffness of her word, which caused her to grin.

“Okay, look, lady, I’m sorry if I’m a bother to you or any other nurses, but I’m confused here, and my chest hurts, it’s hard to breathe.”

“That is because thy chest is bound to secure thy cracked ribs, and We've set the oxygen levels as low as We can in the castle to preserve Our magic.”

This time, he didn’t say anything or even move, just kept his head facing towards her.

Finally, he coughed. “Okay, you can drop… whatever this is supposed to be and stop being a bitch about this. Seriously, where am I? Are Neil and Tucker okay?”

“If thou meanest the other two beings that were with thee in thy small capsule, they are dead.”

Silence for a few moments, then he chuckled dryly. “Damn, lady, you are a massive bitch.”

She snarled, but held her outburst, instead taking a steady breath to relax.

“Creature,” Nightmare Moon began, standing taller, “now that We know of thy sentience and that thou art capable of speech, We have questions so We may determine what use thou wouldst be to Us.”

“The Hell are you on about?” he asked.

“Silence! Firstly, what is it thou art called?”

“Yeesh, my shirt had my name on it. Actually, don’t you have a chart for me? Didn’t NASA give you my info upon being admitted?”

Nightmare stomped a hoof into the dirt, enough to cause a rumble of the place.

“The Hell was that!?”

“About a tenth of Our power. Now, We ask again, what art thou? And if thou so wishest to give Us a name to call thee by, then to make this more amiable, We will abide.”

“You talk really weird, but sure, let's play this game. Okay, so we are a human, as I’d imagine you are—”

“Neigh, We are a pony.”

“—right, of course you are. And I am Commander Timothy Stone, in charge of Apollo 20, Bad Moon Rising, and her crew.”

“Apollo 20? Bad Moon Rising?”

“Yeah, our mission, and our vessel’s name, after the song. Got a lot of us through ’Nam and we thought it fitting.”

Not much of what this Timothy was saying made any sense, but for now she would put that information to the side.

“So, thou art a commander?”

He sighed. “Yes, you should know all of this.”

“Human, thou willst check thy tone with Us. Thy current blindness hindering thine understanding is the only thing keeping Us from throwing thee back out into the void of Our moon’s surface.”

“Seriously, lady, what is your deal? Can I talk to one of the doctors? Or another nurse? I’ll even settle for being alone if you’d cut the crap.”

Finally, she’d had enough, and marched up to the bed, where she, quite forcefully, removed the blood-soaked shirt from his head, causing him to shield his eyes momentarily.

Nightmare Moon leaned her head down, neck stretching taut, as she pushed her muzzle to almost touch this human’s nose. He opened his eyes, and they dilated as he took stock of what was in his face.

“Jesus Jenny!”

Shouting, he jumped to the side, falling off the bed and landing on his chest, where he wheezed and coughed up blood.

“There, art thou satisfied now?”

Slowly, he sat up to a kneeling position, hands on the bed, and looked around, then back to herself.

“What… what the Hell? I don’t remember taking any drugs, not since Vietnam.”

“Thou hast not taken any, nor are We or Our castle an illusion. Thy ship crashed, thy two crew mates died, thou hast survived with Our help. Now thou must rest in bed while thy ribs heal. The lavatory is down the hall, and We are working on making some actual food so that thou dost not prematurely expire on Us.”

Then, with heavy stomping, Nightmare Moon marched out of the infirmary, into the hall, and continued walking.

She didn’t hear any retaliation, no yelling, screaming or even crying. She heard nothing, and her ears flicked in agitation at the lack of any sensory input, save for her hooffalls.

—-------

The next day, she finally had something. It wasn’t great, it was probably alien in nature, but so was he, so she figured he’d be a good test subject.

She held in her magic a clay-like bowl, made by heating and molding moon dust, and in it a green goop that had no scent.

She entered the infirmary, where she saw the human lying on his bed. He jumped at her entrance, then went stiff in the limbs as his eyes watched her walk closer.

“We don’t have much, but We were able to make this.”

She dropped the bowl onto his lap, causing him to flinch.

“What…” He licked his dry lips. She noticed his water bowl was empty again.

“What is this?” he asked on the second try.

“It is sustenance, nourishment, most basic and enough to keep thee from dying, much like the water.”

Looking down in the bowl, he wiggled it, watching as it jiggled around.

“Almost looks like lime Jell-O, only not as opaque.”

“We know not of this Jell-O, is it something thou humans can eat?”

“Yeah.”

“Then We shall call it such. That is Jell-O.”

He looked at the bowl, an argument on the tip of his tongue, but thought better of it for a more pressing matter. “Do I get a spoon?”

“No.”

“Yeesh, what crawled up your asshole and took a bite?”

Nightmare Moon snarled, causing the human to jump. Quickly, he took two of his fingers and dipped them into the green goop, pulling out a dollop and then sniffing it.

“Weird, no smell…” Then he put it in his mouth experimentally and blanched.

“Well?”

“It’s… marginally better than our food sticks, but still weird. What is it?”

“We are pleased it seemeth to have no ill effects. We were honestly unsure about this, but We had snagged an asteroid several hundred years ago with some algae on it, and had experimented in creating a food source, however with Us as the only being, We didn’t want to test it.”

He froze. “Wait, you mean to tell me, that this—” he pointed to the bowl with the slightly green fingers “—was something you whipped up from some sort of space algae, and didn’t even try it yourself, instead gave it to me, who’s injured and recovering?”

“Yes.”

“Damn…” He then proceeded to take another dollop in his fingers. “At least NASA would warn us if something was experimental, and basically said they didn’t know. You’re one cold-hearted bitch.”

“Who saved your life,” she added.

“Yeah, about that, I gotta ask because it seems like it should be obvious, but it isn’t. Why?”

“Because We are a leader, conqueror, and one such as We is only as powerful as those We command and control. It would have been… wasteful to leave thee to thy fate on Our moon’s surface.”

He blinked, then rubbed his temple, however hissing as he touched the large cut along his forehead.

“Okay, I wasn’t expecting that, but none of this has seemed… real, but I actually hurt all over, I pinched myself, even kicked a wall and hurt my foot. This is… I don’t even know. How? Why? We’ve been to the moon several times now, and we never found… this!” He waved his arms around, then pointed a green finger at her. “Or you.”

“Human, We have been on this moon for nine hundred eighty-nine years. We have never had a single visitor, save for when We sensed thy craft.”

“Bullshit. Our flag is out there, somewhere, so’s the Chinese. We staked claim first, so you’re trespassing on our turf.”

Her brows shot up at the accusation. Then, slowly, lowered, until her eyes were mere slits. She leaned forward, and huffed smoke through her nose right into his face.

“Thou hast no clue who We are, dost thou, human?”

“Nope. And you know who I am, I told you. Timothy. Stone. Commander Timothy Stone.”

Suddenly, he did something that, had she been more sensible, she would have immediately interpreted as an attack, he stuck his clean hand towards her, palm to the side and fingers out flat.

This was some sort of greeting gesture, and so she simply placed a shoe-covered hoof into the outstretched hand.

“We are Nightmare Moon. Sole ruler of the moon, Alicorn of the Night, and the rightful owner of Equestria.”

For the first time, Timothy grinned with confidence and assurance, green goop staining his teeth, and shook her hoof. “Charmed.”

—-------

Several weeks had gone by, and much to her annoyance, Timothy had not disclosed what her green goop, now named Jell-O’s Dense Cousin, actually tasted like. He told her she had to try it herself.

Of course, she had had every intention of doing so, but the manner in which he spoke to her, and withheld the taste to her, it boiled her blood, and she chose instead not to touch the stuff out of spite.

She should have also stopped making it to prove a point, but it was something to do that wasn’t threatening her moon dust ponies, playing chess by herself, or Faust forbid, hint to the human that she was actually bored to the point of mutual understanding and keeping him alive so she had someone else.

Although, a thought struck her, if Timothy knew how to play chess, and she chose to latch onto that versus the other errant thoughts that tried to cloud her mind…

Today, however, had more pressing matters. She had decided that the bandages were to come off around his chest, as his ribs had mostly healed, although he wouldn’t be able to do any strenuous labor yet.

Entering the infirmary, she stood tall and proud before the misplaced human, while he gingerly swung his legs over the side of the bed, sitting still, and raised his arms. Her magic came too, and she began unwrapping his chest.

Once free, he drew in a deep breath, and then exhaled.

“Oh man, that’s so much better. Still hurts a little though, in case you might care to know.”

“We do not.”

“Figured as much,” he said with a smile.

That smile of his, whenever he seemed to get the answer he expected from her, drove her mad with rage.

“Do not test me, human. Thou knowest of Our power, and how easily We could end thy miserable life.”

“I’m alive, after crashing on the freaking moon. I don’t know how I could even be miserable, when I should be dead.”

She huffed at that. He continued to refrain from thanking her for saving his life, however he wasn’t ashamed to constantly bring up the fact that he either should be dead, or more seriously hurt, had she not intervened.

Really, at least he could kneel before her and grovel, but no, he was apparently too free-willed and spirited for such a being as herself. She even tried to say that, had she done more, then his crewmates might have survived, but he held a distant, forlorn expression, then looked back to her and chuckled, waving her off with a dismissal and acknowledging that whatever was meant to be, would be.

Que sera, sera.

Her teeth had nearly ground themselves to the gums upon hearing that.

And yet she couldn’t help but find the attitude endearing, and something that if she could manipulate for her benefit, would help starve her boredom and further her planning.

He was alone, after all, and given her way with creatures, she was sure she could convince him to aid her.

“Wait, you wanna kill your sister?”

Nightmare Moon stood tall and proud, while the human Timothy was trying to gather his clothing and space suit, bundling them so that he could carry them to the servants’ quarters of the castle.

She had proposed the move, and she grinned to herself when he did not oppose, instead seeming relieved and excited at the prospect.

Simply nodding, she adjusted her forehooves so they were firmly on the floor and evenly matched.

“Verily. She wronged Us in the most crucial way possible, so ’tis little argument as to not behead her before her once-loyal subjects.”

Timothy paused, looking at his shirt, stained with blood, before tossing it to the side. “That still seems a bit overboard. I mean, she banished you to this moon, right?”

Rolling her eyes, she nodded and lightly stamped a forehoof. “Yes, We have told thee of this already.”

“Right, right—” he continued to roll up his suit “—and yet, in a way, she could have killed you, correct?”

Nightmare Moon was no fool, nor foal, and shook her head.

“Yes, she could, but she is also weak-willed and of frail heart. She would never dare strike down another pony, let alone her own sister.”

“But she could have?”

Her spine tingled, and tail clamped down, as her insides twisted and turned uncomfortably. She could have, couldn’t she? And yet she didn’t, nor did she try to come pay her a “visit” and finish the job.

“Aye,” she said, jaw clenched.

“So you want to repay her… mercy, by instantly beheading her?”

“We have been upon Our moon’s surface for nearly one thousand years. What else would one expect?”

“I don’t know,” he began, then started to tie the rolled-up suit in a bundle much like a sleeping bag, “enslavement, torture, you could even have her paraded around the world like a caged animal on display.”

Nightmare blinked. “Well, yes, those thoughts had crossed Our mind…”

“It might even give you time to come up with something particularly nasty to do to her.” He shrugged. “But what do I know? I didn’t see the horrors of ’Nam like most did, since I was usually at least twenty thousand feet up, but I sure heard about it once I got back on the ground.”

Grumbling, she turned around and began walking out of the room, with Timothy hot on her tail.

The human still seemed slow, even for a creature on two legs, but his occasional wheeze and strained breathing caused her to slow her gait. Not something she’d normally do for anypony, but he did give her some more to think about.

—-------

“You want to what?”

Nightmare Moon stood at the doorway of the room she’d given to Timothy a week prior. He was moving around better, not struggling to breathe, and was currently scrutinizing his space suit.

“I want to go see the crash site. Might still be something there to salvage, like the radio, call NASA and let them know I’m alive. Maybe try and bury Neil and Tucker, but we didn’t have any excavating equipment since we were there to investigate the dark side of the moon.”

He gave her a pointed grin, eyebrows raised.

She looked back at him with disdain.

“And since I already know what’s here, I figured I might as well try to do the rest of my job, even if I’m stuck here. Would make for a story back home, and at least our families will have comfort. Maybe on the next mission they can come and take our bodies back, although how cool would it be to be the first men on the moon to be buried here?”

“I find very little joy in such a thought. This has been my prison for a millennium, and to most back on Equus probably my death place already.”

“Yeah, but you were the—” Timothy suddenly stopped, slowly looking up to her as she glared at him. He coughed, rolling his shoulders as he was apparently struggling to correct the blunder.

“You think of me as the bad pony, don’t you?”

He visibly flinched at that.

“Very well, then We shall show thee otherwise. Come, put on thy suit and we shall be off.”

With his mouth partly open, he could only stare at her, unblinking. “Excuse me?”

“Thou heard’st Us. We shall take you to the site and help with the burial of thy comrades.”

“I mean, I appreciate it, but you don’t—”

Nightmare Moon stomped a hoof, and Timothy shut up. If anything, by now he knew for sure that when she put her hoof down, it was decided then and there, consequences be damned. He just knew better, after the first time, not to laugh if it ended up not in her favor.

—-------

His suit still fit him fine, and there seemed to be no damage, although she didn’t tell him about the previous crack she’d mended. Turning on the oxygen, he gave her a salute, and she teleported them out of the castle, and roughly close to the crash site.

Timothy jumped a little and launched himself higher than he’d expected, and upon landing fell on his back.

She couldn’t hear him, but she was sure he was cussing up a storm as he rocked himself like an upside-down turtle, then getting to his hands and knees, and finally stood back up. Realization quickly struck her: they had no way to communicate, since she was focused on keeping herself alive and he was secured in a suit.

The human must have also realized this as he slapped his helmet a couple of times, then slowly walked up beside her and touched her.

The contact made her skin tense, and a crawling feeling crept from the base of her tail to her horn. Nopony could touch her unless she gave them explicit consent, and she’d never once done so with the human.

He seemed to be ignorant of her rage, but using the hand that had touched her, he tapped her shoulder, then pointed out, and waved his hand in a confused gesture.

With her magic, she brushed off the moon dust glove print upon her shoulder, gave him a scowl that made him rear back (and almost fall again), then pointed her horn straight ahead at a crater divot. He got the message and began walking with a strange gait.

She simply walked like normal, thanks to her magic.

After several minutes, and a few hilarious moments where he’d almost fallen again but recovered with a silly-looking bounce, they were upon the site.

Nothing had changed.

Standing beside him, Nightmare Moon looked down to the human, and while she couldn’t see his face with the gold visor over it, she could read his body language just fine.

Whatever bit of hope he had, possibly finding his crew alive or the ship in a state where he could return home, had been crushed. It only lasted a few moments, then he began to work his way down, with her alongside him.

He briefly looked at the bodies, then continued for the ship. The door which she’d been unable to open worked effortlessly for Timothy, and he shuffled his way inside awkwardly, as it was on its side.

The hissing of leaking oxygen had stopped, probably run out long ago.

Suddenly, something came floating out of the doorway, and slowly came to a descent, landing just in front of her hooves. She looked down, and it was one of the shiny rectangles she’d seen before. Soon, another one came floating out.

After about half an hour, she had a large pile of… stuff, none of it recognizable, save for some forks, spoons, and knives, of which two sets had found themselves in her mane for safe keeping.

Finally he emerged, and gave her a thumbs up as he climbed out. He walked past his companion’s bodies, but didn’t stare for too long as he rounded the other side of the ship. From there, he retrieved a wagon of some kind, a handle easily large enough for his gloved hand to fit.

Then he waved at her.

With a huff she walked over, and he pointed at her horn, then at a series of white tanks. He tapped on two of them, the other two he drew an X on with what looked like a stick of charcoal.

She gave him a look, trying to convey that this was his job and his mission and his stuff, but he placed his hands on his hips, returning with a gesture that retorted, Yes, but you said you’d help.

Rolling her eyes, she gave the tanks a magic tug, and brought them into the wagon with ease. As he walked by, he patted her shoulder again, which nearly had her biting his arm in retaliation.

It was only by pure will that she held back. At least this time he didn’t have moon dust covering his glove.

He brought the wagon to the two bodies, and standing there for a moment, he made a strange gesture in the air, stopping at four points, thenfinally clapped his gloved hands together, paused for a moment, then knelt down and began to remove the suits.

A decent pony might have looked away, or tried to help, but for Nightmare, this was something more akin to curiosity, and so she stood by and watched as he removed their gear. Two piles were made, one of obviously damaged gear, the other stuff he deemed salvageable. When he was down to just the bodies, he removed their shirts and slacks, but left the undergarments.

Turning in place, he began kicking at the ground until he found a spot where his boot could dig in with ease, and kneeling once more began scooping with his gloved hands.

This she instantly knew what was being done, and knew if he kept it up like this they’d be here for hours.

Grabbing the discarded and cracked helmet, she stepped beside him, casting him in a shadow which halted his work. With the helmet in her magic, she used it as a makeshift trenching tool, and began scooping at the dust. He only hesitated another moment, then continued with his gloves.

Thirty minutes or so later, he placed Neil beside Tucker, and the two pushed the dust over them. They left the helmet on top of the pile, then he dragged the wagon to the other pile of supplies, loading it slowly.

He’d apparently found some kind of artificial rope, and secured the bundle of mass so nothing would fall, then turned around to look at her.

He slid the gold visor over, and she quickly realized he wasn’t looking at her.

Turning around, she saw what had his attention, and it made her stomach do flips.

This close to the light side, they could see about three quarters of Equus before them, the blue of her oceans, the green and brown of continents, and areas of white puffy clouds.

Time had eluded her, because what felt like seconds later, Timothy tapped her shoulder. She looked to him, and could see the tears on his face, but he shook his head, then replaced the gold visor and made back for the wagon. She watched him grab the handle, and begin walking away.

She knew that he knew she could teleport, but for the time being, they slowly walked, occasionally looking back at her planet, home, millions of miles away, and wondered for a brief moment what was going through his head. After a solid hour of walking, he stopped, and gave her a thumbs up, to which she lit her horn and they teleported back into the castle.

—-------

Much to her surprise, Timothy hadn't begun sulking, or locked himself in his room for days upon returning. He immediately went into a professional mode of doing things which showed his commanding role and profession. Organizing what he had, writing it down on a clipboard with a pencil, and stocking most things in his room, save for the food stuff which was taken to the kitchen and placed with the scary overabundance of JDC.

This, however, was when Nightmare Moon had to put her hoof down.

“We are the ruler of this castle, and as such in charge of it and all who live here. Thou art not a guest, but instead to be staff.”

“Staff? Like, what, a butler? ’Cause I have an argument—”

“How long would thine oxygen bottles last thee out there? Thou couldst always make thine own home upon Our moon.”

He froze, finger pointed up, then slowly lowered his hand and crossed his arms, grumbling.

“Better. As We were saying, thou—”

“Hey, earlier you had dropped that fancy talk, why are you back to it again?”

Gritting her teeth, she chose to ignore the question. “First rule, no interrupting Us. Second rule, thou may’st only speak to Us when we speak to thee, or if We grant permission to speak.”

He raised a brow at her. “That’s a crock of shit.”

Lowering her head to place her muzzle to his nose, she snarled.

He gulped. “Right, you’re the boss. Got it.”

“Better.” She pulled back and stood her full height. “Now, while having a butler would be a nice change, even We know that this castle is too massive for one lone servant to clean and service.”

“How gracious of you.”

She glared, and he raised his hands, palms out, in surrender.

“So instead, We have compiled a list of what thy daily duties shall be, and then, and only then, shalt thou have thine own free time to do as such with.”

Looking at the human, she awaited a rebuttal, but none came, so with a nod she took the clipboard and pencil out of his hands, and flipped the page of paper he was writing on and began writing a list in elegant cursive.

He sighed, then took a seat on one of the many moon stools, placed his elbow on his knee, his chin in his palm, and watched her write as he waited.

That was fine with her, time was on her side.

Upon flipping her third page, he finally had enough and stood.

“Jesus, woman, I’m only one man! How much crap is there really to do around here?”

She lowered the clipboard from her muzzle and gave him a glare.

He rolled his eyes. “Your Highness, just how much is there actually to do here? I haven’t seen you do anything.”

“That is because We are royalty, and as such leave the menial labor to Our subjects, hence thee.”

“So, what, now I gotta do a backlog of chores from the past nine hundred years?”

“More so seven hundred, but aye.”

He took a deep breath in, then let it out slowly.

“On one condition.”

“Foal, thou hast no leverage in having any conditions or demands. This is Our castle, as such Our rules.”

Watching him visibly sag and plop back onto the stool, she was about to continue writing when a little voice in her head poked at the thought.

“Although, if We were to consider any conditions, what wouldst thou request?”

He feigned a smile with a yawn.

“Any chance you could drop that fancy talk, and speak like a normal person?”

That wasn’t an easy request. One such as herself would only drop her level of speech for somepony she saw as an equal, or close friend. Timothy was neither of those, just a lost traveler stuck on her moon.

The comparison hit but for only a moment, and her ears nearly went flat against her helm. So was she.

“We… shall consider it,” she said, then floated the clipboard to the human.

He took it in his hands, and began reading it over. First, one eyebrow raised, and then both went up and his eyes went wide. Finally, he looked up to her and said the first thing that came to mind.

“You want me to do what?”

—-------

Several months had passed, and a feeling of normalcy was brought to the New Lunar Castle. At least, for Nightmare Moon. She sat upon her moon dust throne; one ruined space suit from Neil had been made into a cushion for her rump. She was on the top of her world now: even having a simple scribe beside her was enough to empower her thoughts and bravado.

Timothy, the “new” scribe, stood beside her and on top of the flittering remains of the previous dust pony scribe, bored out of his mind.

He had been writing down whatever she was telling him, but honestly at this point he’d quit, even doodling forgotten, just so he could stand there and pretend to look busy.

There had been a point in which he’d mumbled something about needing to start rationing the paper soon.

“Timothy? Do I bore you?”

“Extremely so,” he blurted out.

A frown came to her face as she stared down at him. Although the human did appear to feel a bit better, she’d finally started to drop the fancy speech (unless she was mad at him, which was getting more and more rare), she could still stare into his soul, which could put him in his place.

He shuddered, which made her feel marginally better.

“Apologies, Your Highness, for my bluntness.”

Nodding, she was about to strike him with a stern warning about incompetence, when she actually took notice of his posture.

His shoulders were sagging, he was shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and he didn’t once look at her. She did consider, for a moment, that while she held any servant to a certain level of scrutiny, he was clearly not suited for the job. And while he still had the tendency to talk back to her at times, he still did what was demanded of him, albeit with a grumble here and there.

“Your presence here is not for me to entertain you, but for you to entertain me.”

“I’m not juggling moon rocks again, not without my helmet anyway.”

At least she had gotten a laugh from it. The first time she’d done anything around him that wasn’t a scowl or sneer.

“Fine. Since your apparent lack of enthusiasm in writing my words is doing neither of us any good, then that shall be all for the day. You are dismissed.”

He stood straighter. “Wait, really?” he said, shocked, and turned to look at her.

Standing, she trotted from her throne and began going down the steps to the floor. Timothy continued to stand there, watching her with a curious glance as she walked away. At the doors, she paused, tail flicking, and turned her neck to look at him.

“What? Is there moon dust in thine ears?”

Then, something she did not expect, the human placed his hands on his hips, and then smiled.

“Well I’ll be. I was about to give up all hope, but sure enough, it’s still there.”

Nightmare Moon raised a brow. “What? Is there dust upon my royal hide?”

Shaking his head, he began walking after her, and then stopped at her side. He gave her shoulder, the same one he’d touched months ago, a gentle pat and smiled at her.

“You do have a heart.”

Continuing on, he stretched his arms over his head and made for the servants’ corridor.

Nightmare Moon watched him as he rounded a corner, whistling a tune to himself she didn’t recognize.

She looked down to her shoulder. A strange, foreign feeling was building up in her chest, and she didn’t like it. She should have bit his head off, smacked him with a wing, anything to stop him from touching her.

Then again, it had been so long since another being had been able to touch her.

Maybe… if she did it right, she could coax more out of him, but without giving him the benefit of the doubt.

—-------

Ten years.

She looked at the rock she’d been inscribing with markings for the passing days, months, years, decades, and centuries.

In ten years, she’d be back in Equestria. Her proper home, and dealing with her sister.

Alone in her room, she lounged upon her bed, staring at the rock which she’d first used as the start of her castle. She daintily munched on one of the food sticks that Timothy had upon his ship. She’d decided they were to ration them between the JDC, so that they wouldn’t be depleted completely at an alarming rate.

And, as much as she hated to admit it, he was right that the green goop did taste slightly better than this.

Turning from the rock to face her ceiling, she thought about the human, since she had little else to think about. He’d been with her for a year, give or take a few weeks. They had an… understanding of each other, and he followed her demands and she granted him the decency to actually give him his space when asked for it.

Today was one such day. And honestly, she hated it.

He had, multiple times, tried to sneak out and walk for the crash site with the wagon, bringing back some manner of objects. She allowed him to think he’d pulled the wool over her eyes, but she also knew before too much longer he would be out of his oxygen tanks, and either would have to give up the escapades or request her help.

Oh, how she waited for that, just to gloat over how stupid he’d been.

As such, today he’d wanted to set aside to work on one of those contraptions he’d snuck in, even as he tried to tell her he’d already had it when they first went out. She was not a dumb pony, and was offended he’d try to pull a fast one on her.

She was an alicorn, after all.

Still, while she felt it was within her rights to refuse his request, she still granted it, so no demands for the day.

Then a thought struck her.

He never said she couldn’t still see him. Maybe it would take away some of her boredom.

Not that he’d need to know that or anything, Faust forbid.

Decision made, she jumped to her hooves and went to place on her armor, but paused. Did she really need it? After all, it was just the two of them, but she’d never been around him with it off.

“No need to dirty it, after he had polished the pieces only a day ago.”

He apparently found it funny she would place the armor outside her door, and once done he’d place it back again, only for her to bring it in with her magic and emerge from the room ready.

Then she made the remark about his clothes, which he got awkward about. It was a human thing, so she didn’t really care to know more.

To show oneself, such as she was, would mean a lot to another pony. That of trust, familiarity, and equal standing. He always wore clothes, but out of modesty. Still, could she admit that she saw him on a level field?

“A test then. This shall be a test.”

Nodding, she stepped out of her room, closing the door hesitantly, looking at her helm as the sliver of crack grew smaller and smaller.

The door closed, she breathed, then turned and began walking towards the common area.

There were dozens of rooms made up for staff, but he obviously only needed one.

Walking the halls, she rounded a corner, when her ears twitched to something. It was music, no doubt, but of what she couldn’t rightfully understand until she got closer and closer to Timothy’s room.

His door was closed, and the music was most definitely coming from inside. She steeled herself, then knocked.

Instantly the music was stopped, there was some shuffling of paper, and a quiet curse from the human, before the door finally cracked open, just enough for his face to squeeze through.

“Oh, hello there,” he said.

“Well met, Timothy.”

He blinked. She blinked.

“Uh… can… I help you?” he asked.

“Verily so. We—I mean, I granted your request upon the promise of not demanding any work of you.”

“Riiiight?”

“So, I… would like to… come in.”

He raised a brow.

“Not a demand, a request, much as the one I’ve granted you.”

They both stood there awkwardly for a moment, and realizing this, Nightmare stood straighter and a little more imposingly.

Then, that smile she hated so graced his lips.

“Why, are you asking to come visit me?”

Nodding, she spoke, “Aye.”

He looked into the room, then back out to her. “On one condition.”

Her eye twitched, but she nodded.

“No touching anything. Some of this stuff is… delicate, and I only have what I have. No replacements.”

“Understood.”

Hesitating, he stepped back and opened the door wider, just enough for her to enter, having to brush past him.

Inside the room was a disaster of components, electronics as he called them, parts, tools, and many other things she couldn’t even guess at. Upon a table, he had one of the space suits laid out, and rested upon it several rectangular devices with needle gauges, and glowing lights. Her ears twitched, hearing them emitting a hum.

“Huh, you’re naked.”

Nightmare straightened her posture and turned.

“Yes, I decided that since this was not a formal visit, that I would forgo risking any scuffing to my armor or shoes.”

And if she was being honest, moon dust just got everywhere and it was always refreshing to be rid of the plating and brush out her coat.

As she had thought, this was, obviously, the first time he’d seen her like this, and she felt his gaze for a few more seconds before he cleared his throat.

“Well, I gotta say, this look feels more natural to me. It’s weird seeing a horse in armor, like I’m in olden time England with knights and such.”

“I know nothing of this England, but our ponies of the guard wear them, much like myself.”

“And your sister?”

She narrowed her eyes, but the human seemed unfazed by the glare. “She… had not for a long time, not even for our battle.”

“Huh, sounds like a real classy lady.”

She harrumphed at that, but said no more, instead walking closer to the table. Timothy was quick to follow and block her from the contraption.

“Take it easy now, like I said, delicate. I can answer questions if you point at it, but I don’t want you touching it.”

She glared at him, her expression saying it all.

“Please, Your Highness, I humbly ask—no, beg of you, to not touch. It’s… important to me.”

Relaxing her posture some, and returning her vertical-iris eyes to normal, she nodded and stepped back.

“So, I take it this is some of the technology from your craft?”

“Yeah, the radio, antenna, and transmitter assembly. It’s mostly intact, but I had to steal parts from the life support systems, and since those were useless anyway, here I am.”

“Radio?”

“It’s a… communication device. So you can hear something from a distance, like people talking, or music.”

“Ah, I thought I heard music before.”

“Oh, you did, but it wasn’t from this. I’m still trying to get anything from the radio, but no luck. This,” he said, pointing to a large gray contraption, “is where you were hearing the music from.”

He then grabbed a small blue rectangle and showed it to her.

“This is an 8 Track, which is played in this thing. Uses film and magnets to make audio through a speaker. Watch!”

He took the 8 Track and slammed it into the machine, which after a brief second clicked on and began playing music.

It was already partway into the song, but she took notice of one of the key lyrics, and it nearly made her smile at herself.

Timothy, however, didn’t even try to hide his smile as he looked up to her. “Neat stuff, huh?”

“Hm, this is a song about your ship?”

“No, our ship was named after the song. I, uh, also think it’s quite funny with you being here and all.” He started to laugh, then tried, and failed, to mask it with a cough.

“I hadn’t noticed,” she said, smirking to herself. “I do find this fitting, and… tolerable.”

“Glad to hear it, ’cause if you’re gonna spend any time with me in my room, then you’re gonna have to grow to love it. I only got CCR and Tony Orlando and Dawn. Unfortunately, Neil Diamond didn’t survive the crash.”

“Your crewmate?”

He shook his head. “No, they’re both named Neil, but Neil Diamond is another performer, and that was the track Tucker wanted to bring, mostly to annoy our Neil, Neil Alabaster.”

“I fail to see the humor.”

“You had to know them, honestly. They were a couple of cards.”

The human’s mood began to shift, and knowing quite well she didn’t wish to deal with an emotional Timothy, she quickly skirted away from the thought.

“Well, since that’s an impossibility, you can begin telling me about this radio while we… listen to this music.”

The word enjoy almost came out of her muzzle, but she stopped herself.

For Timothy, however, he didn’t even try to hide his smile as he began to talk about each part.

—-------

Three years had passed by in the blink of an eye, and that seemed to be bothering the human, she noticed, resting upon his bed while he sat at the table, messing with the radio.

“Still, by now I’d imagine someone trying to contact us, or be sending another craft. I left a sign, they would know where to find me.”

“Unless this isn’t your moon.”

This wasn’t the first time it had been brought up, but each time did the same thing to Timothy.

He scowled.

It was an expression she’d seen less and less of from the human, his infectious smile constantly trying to spread to her, only for her to fight back by the only way she knew how.

To upset him.

“For you, Timothy, it has been three years. For me, it has been far, far longer, and I’m eager for the passing decade so I may return and take back what is mine.”

He scoffed. “And what, leave me here?”

“Someone must watch the castle in my absence.”

He rolled his eyes. “How do you know I might not just abandon it? Walk out into the cold dark side and die?”

“You would probably streak about the castle naked just to spite me, human.”

He actually let out a guffaw at that, the previous sourness in his voice vanished, and nearly made her smile again. Cursing herself, she watched him brush his thick mustache with his pointer finger.

He’d had with him a personal grooming item, as they were expected to be clean shaven. Having given up the idea for the time being, he’d kept his mustache, as it was apparently his “signature with the ladies back home.” By Faust did she hate that thing, and also couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to touch her muzzle.

She blinked, shook her head, and banished the thought, and instead returned to the book she’d been reading for the twentieth time since he’d shown her the three books he had. She’d been mad at him for weeks about that, withholding something so valuable. It didn’t matter if she didn’t understand half of the meanings or what most of the technologies or machines were, it was reading!

The tragic tale of the main character finally killing his long-time friend brought a sick pleasure to her with each closing of the book.

“You’re not… actually going to kill her, are you?”

Nightmare Moon looked up from the book and hmmed.

“Your sister.”

Placing the book mark in and closing the book, she set it aside and faced Timothy.

“I will admit, it is… what I wanted for a long time, however the more I think about it, and the more you talk to me about it… I cannot help but feel less and less inclined to do so. I should be furious at you, but I cannot help but think… you are right.”

Looking at her as well, Timothy smiled and returned to his radio. “That’s good, ’cause I think—”

Whatever he had been messing with, suddenly a loud static sound came from the equipment, causing Nightmare Moon to stand upon his bed and magic her armor on. The human, for his part, fell backwards and onto the ground, looking puzzled, then slowly his face broke into a massive grin.

“Hot damn, mama! It’s working!” He shot up and began messing with some of the dials. “I cannot believe it, I actually got something to work!”

Calming herself, she magicked her armor back to her chambers, and climbed off the bed to stand beside Timothy and look on curiously.

“And pray tell, what should happen now?”

“Now? Well, I just gotta tune into the frequencies, send a message, and after about three minutes hope I get a response.”

“Three minutes?”

“That’s roughly the delay time between the moon and Earth.”

Then he cleared his throat, grabbed the microphone as he called it, and spoke.

“Houston, this is Commander Timothy Stone of Apollo Twenty, Black Moon Rising, how do you hear?”

Both sets of eyes looked at the wrist watch, recovered from Tucker, as it ticked away. And then they waited.

One minute passed.

Then two.

Three.

Five.

At the ten-minute mark, Timothy sent the message again. And again. Every ten minutes, for two hours.

Nightmare Moon had returned to his bed, reading the book to the end, her ears twitching every time the human spoke into the microphone.

And how with each instance, his voice would start to waver.

At some point she left to retire for the evening, leaving without a word as he was so focused on the radio equipment.

The next morning, she found her armor still outside her door, discarded as she’d left it, uncleaned. Huffing, she marched to his room and found the door open, but no human. His suit was still there, as well as the remaining single oxygen tank, so he was still in the castle.

Unless…

“How do you know I might not just abandon it? Walk out into the cold dark side and die?”

His words rang through her mind, and she looked to the radio equipment, only to realize slowly, it had been smashed and thrown about. Small traces of blood smeared on the deformed surfaces.

She left the room in a hurry and began wandering the halls. She didn’t call out his name, simply listened for him.

After thirty minutes of searching, she found him in the most surprising place.

He was sitting on her throne, holding a small metal flask in slightly bloody hands. The flask was open, and as she got closer she smelled something that hadn’t touched her nose since before her banishment.

Alcohol.

She knew he had it, as it was planned to be consumed by the two of them once he got radio contact and to celebrate. His words, not hers.

Clearly the opposite had occurred, as he sat slumped upon her throne, eyes glazed, and didn’t move until she was at the base of the stairs.

Sluggishly, he placed the cap on, and tossed it down the stairs.

“L-l-left you half… so, th-there.”

Her magic picked it up before it fell all the way down. It was empty.

Tossing it to the side, she marched up the steps and stood before the human, who barely gave her a moment’s glance.

“Nothin’, just plain old nothin’. Not a peep. Not even a damn signal. We got satellites, ya know? Bounce around different wavelengths and such, and it… none of it. Nothing’s there.”

Then he tried to stand, and nearly fell until, shocking herself, a wing opened to catch him.

“You were right. All along.”

Brushing past her, he pushed her wing away, and stumbled down the steps.

“Timothy.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I forgot to do anything on the damn list. But guess what, I didn’t forget! I didn’t do it on purpose! This is my revolution, I’ve had it with your… your… bullshit!” He turned in place, stepped wrong, and tumbled backwards to the ground.

Nightmare Moon stayed in place, looking down at him with a frown.

He promptly raised a hand up and stuck out the middle finger.

“Fuck this place, and fuck you.” His arm limply fell against his stomach.

It was silent in the throne room for several long seconds. Then she took her seat.

“Some time ago, you called me a bad pony. Do you remember that?”

“I never finished the sentence.”

“But the intention was there, and you were not completely wrong. My subjects… saw, no, see me as a bad pony. Because I wanted to change what they had. Because I… didn’t have what my sister had.”

“Oh, what? Power? Fame? Studs?”

“Love.”

Gingerly, he raised his head from the floor and frowned at her.

“Our ponies looked up to her, loved her, and lived their lives in her day brought forth by her sun. Then, once my moon came up, they hid themselves from the dark, sleeping and battling nightmares. I started dreamwalking, trying to help, but I found myself becoming that which they had nightmares of.

“I resented my sister, hated her even, yet all she could do was show me her love, but it was too little, too late. I needed more. I needed… all of it. I’ve been… alone, for too long, and I know what I must do, what I need to do may not be right, but it is what I started, and I must finish it. And then you showed up, and made a mess of my plans.”

Blinking, she waved a hoof at him.

“You are released from my service.”

“Great,” he mumbled, then tried to stand, but instead just sat on the ground, half covered in the floor’s moon dust. “I’ll go pack my shit, hopefully that last tank will take me to the crash. At least I’ll die somewhere where I belong.”

Narrowing her eyes, Nightmare cleared her throat. “I said you are released from my services, not that you were to leave my castle.”

That actually got him to pause, swaying in place, and peer up to her, confused.

She cleared her throat and felt something once more in her chest, something she wasn’t familiar enough with.

“This… is not easy to say, but as much as I’d like to deny it, your company has… been a vast improvement to me. It has made these last few years… enjoyable.”

He blinked, then, slowly, stood to his feet, still swaying a little but keeping himself upright.

She continued, “And I would be remiss if I cast you out into the harsh cold of my moon, for you to perish, and make these last few years lonely again.”

She never broke eye contact with him, but she wanted to look away like a bashful filly.

“You… you really mean that, don’t you?”

Nightmare Moon nodded.

Timothy, slowly, began to smile, and then chuckle, and lastly laugh out loud, falling once again to the floor. Raising his left arm up, he pointed at her.

“I told… told you, before. You do have a heart.”

She really… really wanted to frown at him, but something came over her, and her lips curled upward, and for the first time since meeting the human, she smiled, and it brought forth a warmth in her beating chest.

—-------

Her castle’s ballroom had been the hardest section to construct. Because it was designed with parties in mind, the floors had been rolled and pressed to the point they could appear to be waxed, ready for dancing.

And for the first time since its conception, it was doing just that.

She’d heard the music echoing down the halls, figuring it to be Timothy’s tape player, and she wasn’t wrong. What she hadn’t expected, however, was for him to be dancing around with his empty space suit in his hands.

Five hundred years of isolation on the moon could drive somepony mad, but she hadn’t expected this from him. He’d only been here shy of five.

He seemed to ignore her as she marched inside, and stood just outside of the circle he’d made on the floor.

She frowned.

“You’re messing up my floor.”

“Maybe, or maybe you don’t mess it up enough.”

“Also true. Why?”

“I’m bored. Why are you here?”

“Looking for you.”

“Why?”

“Because…”

“You’re bored too?”

He continued to dance, only giving her occasional glances.

“You did not show up for lunch. I brought you some food,” she said, waving the bowl of JDC.

“Not hungry.”

Looking him over, she couldn’t help but notice how skinny he was becoming. Muscle mass was going away, as well as some of the bits of fat he had.

His face, most of all, was thinning, cheeks starting to sink.

“You’re not eating at all, are you?”

“Barely.” He continued dancing.

“And this?” She waved a wing at him and his suit. “What, to burn more calories you cannot afford to lose?”

“No, I just felt like dancing.”

“And nothing else?”

“I’ve done everything else multiple times. This was one thing I realized I’d not done.”

“So you choose your space suit?”

“Yup. Was gonna ask you, but you would have said no.”

That actually caused her to ruffle her feathers.

“You dare to assume what I’d say or do? I am a princess, I do what I want.”

Suddenly, Timothy tossed the space suit away, and paused, his left hand out towards her.

“Fine, then dance with me.”

Even for him this was brazen and out of nowhere. She was still confused by whenever he touched her shoulder, and now he wanted to hold her hoof? Or depending on the dance, caress her back? Her wings in his hand’s grasp?

She took a step back, which caused him to sag.

“As I thought,” he said, then dropped his arms as he walked to the 8 Track deck.

“Neigh!”

He paused, looking back at her.

“You… that was a surprise to Us. We were not… I mean, I was not prepared for such a gesture.”

He laughed. “Lady, we’ve been stuck together here for five years. When are you ever gonna break out of that armor shell of yours and live a little?”

It was as if his words drove a stake through her chest, and she had to sit down from feeling dizzy.

“Wow, you really are uncomfortable about it?”

“It is… the touching.”

He blinked. “Touching?”

“Yes. We have… become more relaxed around one another, but for another to touch me, besides my sister or… a lover, is uncalled for.”

“Oh.” He hesitated, then: “So that’s why you’d always tense up when I touched your shoulder.”

She blinked. “You knew?”

“Well, yeah, it wasn’t unlike when I’d pet a horse at my grandfather’s farm. Always unsure how they’d react to someone approaching, but that was usually the safest place to pet a horse to calm them down, so they got familiar with you. I kinda… I don’t know, I guess I was doing that to you subconsciously.”

Looking to the floor, she had to think; however Timothy didn’t stop there.

“I’m sorry, had I known you were so weirded out by it, I wouldn’t have done it. And I’ll stop, too. So, just forget it. I thought this might liven you up a little,” he said while taking the 8 Track tape out of the player.

Yes, she was always nervous about his touches, but at first it had been from disrespect towards her, to something he just did and she dealt with it.

But now, what was it? What was really holding her back?

“Wait.”

Timothy paused, picking up his suit, looking at her curiously.

“I… we can. Dance. Let us dance,” she said while standing and walking closer.

“Really?”

She nodded, then with her magic removed her helm and breastplate, but kept on her shoes.

He grinned at her, and she couldn’t help but allow a small smile to grace her lips. Turning, he slapped the 8 Track back into the player and turned it on, and a song came on to which he began shimmying in place.

Unfamiliar with the movements, Nightmare Moon stood still, unsure what to do.

Then, along with the song line, he stomped his foot three times. Swaying, then he clapped his hands twice.

“Come on, Princess, show a human what an equine can do.”

He danced around her, moving his hips, doing confusing waves with his legs, pointing his hand up, then down, with his legs spread open. Then when they knocked three times again, she stomped a hoof to match, and began to move her flanks to the beat.

“That’s it! Come on, don’t just stand there!”

For the next half hour at least, they danced. It was nothing like the typical ballroom dancing she was used to, or the intimate dancing like he’d been doing with his space suit. This was wild, fun, and free. What they did didn’t matter, only that they were close enough to brush each other’s side, although once she bumped her flank into his hip too hard and sent him to the ground.

He laughed it off, smiling as he jumped up and got right back into it.

This was nothing like herself, she knew it, even he probably knew it, but for so long, she had been the same way. Brooding, grumpy, and imposing. Timothy, a lost human, had begun to open her up and make her feel like a mare again. A pony, something she’d longed for since before her banishment.

They’d gone through one entire track multiple times, and were finishing up another dance to “Knock Three Times,” when Timothy finally stumbled to the machine and shut it off.

“Holy… cow, lady, can you move or what? I’m beat!”

There was a definite sheen of sweat upon her coat, her ethereal mane and tail billowing upon a non-existent breeze which did nothing to help cool her down.

“That was… most certainly something I’m not accustomed to, but not unpleasant.”

“Yeah, well we’ll need to do it again sometime.”

“I would like that,” she said, then gasped as her breath felt as though it was sucked out of her.

Deep in her chest, something sharp poked, and caused her to flinch. Whispers took root in her mind, telling her things she could only remember from her initial banishment, and had been quiet for nearly just as long.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, walking closer.

“Stay… stay back.”

“What? What’s got you all—”

“We said stand back!”

Timothy did so, taking a step away, but remained quiet.

Silently, she fought off the demons of old that had lingered in her mind. They had been dormant for so long, but for whatever reason, they sprang back into action now.

Fidgeting in place, she began thrashing her head, braying with a stomp of both front hooves.

It made her head spin, eyes seeing red, her fangs biting into her lips as she fought back a scream of pain.

“What the hell? Nightmare? Princess? You okay?”

A wind billowed around her, causing her mane and tail to absorb into it and tint it with their color.

And then her cat-like eyes opened, the warm teal replaced with a seering bright white.

“Silence, cur! We are thy princess, not some common harlot. Thou wilt treat Us with the respect given, and demanded!”

“Holy crap!” Timothy jumped back, avoiding being swept up in the sudden winds.

“WE KNOW WHAT THOU AIM’ST TO DO, STEER US FROM OUR CHOSEN PATH. THOU WILT NOT SUCCEED, FOR WE WILL RETURN, DEFEAT THE SUN HERALD, AND TAKE WHAT IS OURS!”

He was hugging the 8 Track player, keeping it from being swept up. All around him dust was being thrown, making it difficult to see one another.
“CHILL THE FUCK OUT, WHAT ARE YOU GOING ON ABOUT!?” he tried to shout through the howling winds.

“Thou only seekest to get close to Us so thy survival is guaranteed! This ruse is over, for We know what really beateth within thy heart. Thou wert sent by HER, to stop US, but We will not stand for it!”

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT! I JUST SAID WE COULD DANCE AGAIN SOMETIME!”

Suddenly, the winds began to slow and taper.

Noticing this, he continued.

“YEAH, I KNOW YOU ARE WHAT’S KEEPING ME ALIVE. AND SURE, MAYBE THAT WAS THE ONLY THING KEEPING ME FROM HATING YOU.”

The winds picked back up again.

“BUT! BUT! THAT’S CHANGED! I ACTUALLY LIKE BEING AROUND YOU.”

The winds slowed again, even less so than before.

“YOU ACTUALLY THINK ABOUT THINGS BEFORE DOING THEM, OR SAYING THEM. IN YOUR OWN WAY THAT’S BEING CONSIDERATE. SURE IT CAN COME OFF AS POMPOUS AND DEMANDING, BUT YOU STILL ACT LIKE YOU CARE.”

No longer howling, the winds were gentle. However, Nightmare Moon was still floating in the air, eyes pure white, fangs out, and a darkness surrounded her.

“LOOK! Look, just… I’m sorry, whatever I said or did, I’m sorry, okay? You want me to eat the food, I’ll eat more! Or we can never dance again! Just, please, stop with the freaky glowing thing and come back down here. This isn’t how a princess acts, is it?”

His words hit a nerve, and gently she returned to the ground, and with a blink, her teal, vertical-slit eyes returned to normal, and her fangs receded.

Slowly, ever much so, he walked over, and taking his right hand, he placed it on her shoulder. And for the first time, she didn’t flinch at the contact.

“Just… you can’t do that, okay? As cool as that might have been, you nearly made me shit my pants.”

“Forgive Us, We… I do not know what came over me.”

“You looked pissed!”

“No… I was not angry. I felt… happy.”

“How can being happy—” He paused, then took a step back and looked at her. “Oh.”

“Oh? Oh what?”

“You’re… the bad guy, and I made you feel good.”

She blinked at him, confused.

“I’m not sure what’s going on in that head of yours, and clearly neither do you. Okay, so you actually liked the dancing, yeah?”

Slowly, she nodded, not trusting her words.

“Right. And this whole time you’ve been, well, snooty, snobby, and demanding. Now you’re a lot less of those things. We’ve been getting along better, and we’ve been actually enjoying each other’s company.”

Her pupils shrank, the implications he was making striking a nerve she hadn’t realized was there until the pain started. Still hugging the 8 Track player, Timothy went to wrap an arm around her, but she took quick stock of the destruction in the once pristine ballroom, and panic set in her eyes. Before she could process her actions, her horn glowed, and with a puff of magic, she turned into a cloud of what resembled her hair, and whisked away and out of the ballroom, and leaving a confused human, shouting her name.

—-------

Everything hurt. Her head, her hooves, her chest, heart, soul, even breathing.

It all hurt, and she didn’t know when the crying had begun.

At some point, Timothy had knocked upon her door, but she stayed quiet, save for her cries. He said something about her armor and left. She had discarded her shoes as she’d swiftly made haste to her room before. He probably picked them all up and put them outside her door.

Stupid creature.

This was all his fault.

For nearly a full one thousand years, she had hatred in her heart, and was ready to literally behead her sister in front of countless others!

Now… now, she didn’t know what she wanted. She wanted her ponies to admire her, worship her. The night was an extension of herself, and she’d blacken out her sister’s sun so everything knew only eternal night. She could come up with spells to preserve life, and it wouldn’t be perfect, but it would be hers.

Then she had to actually feel something other than hatred and ire. Her heart beat in her chest a mile a minute, and she barely managed to keep herself composed long enough not to lash out and destroy anything more.

Surely the ballroom was in shambles, but what did she care?

It was unclear how many days she lay in her bed, with everything around her hurting. One day, Timothy had knocked, but instead of leaving as he normally did, he forced open her doors.

She didn’t even have the desire to try and force them back closed.

He brought her water, and she drank from it. He gave her a little bow, asked if she needed anything else.

Shaking her head, she turned away from him. He was quiet for another moment, then she heard the door open and close, signaling his departure.

This went on for several more weeks, until finally, when he entered, he brought with him his helmet and sat on it in front of her bed.

“Alright, that’s it. We gotta talk.”

“No.”

“Nuh uh, don’t give me that. You’ve been lying there for a literal month. I was worried I’d need to make you diapers.”

The thought made her grimace. She at least still had standards.

“Look, I know you’re going through… something. I’m also going through something, but I feel like I at least can accept that this… something is something we can work through, together.

She frowned at that.

“That made very little sense.”

“Yeah, I know, I suck at these kinds of things. Look, you said it yourself, I made you feel happy when we danced, right? I felt happy too. I also felt happy about… being around and with you. I have been for some time now, and it’s just… it’s been there—” he tapped his forehead “—but I kept pushing it aside.

“Sure we never talked a lot or did much, but we were together all the time. Sitting around, reading, working on something, eating. We had this comfortable silence, like we didn’t need to say anything to each other. Does that make any sense?”

“Vaguely.”

“Well, you said it yourself. You seek attention, and well, lady, love is a form of affection.”

She shot up from her bed with a start. “What?”

“Yeah, it’s… kind of weird, but I’ve taken a real shine to you, and I thought, after that dance, you had done the same to me. Then you got all kinds of scary and I didn’t know what to think. Walking in here, seeing you constantly miserable, made me feel miserable.

“I know you’re gearing up for returning home, and as much as I’d like to, I know I can’t. So… I’d like to actually, well, make this enjoyable. You and me, me and you, both of us together.”

Silence took over for the two, with Nightmare Moon unsure what to say, and Timothy unsure how to continue.

“It is… difficult.”

He looked over to her.

“I… wanted to take what I wanted, but now you’re giving it to me. It’s… not what I expected, nor realized I actually wanted as well. I’ve been battling my inner darkness, and I’ve been feeling as if it’s winning, and I’m about to spiral out of control again and take it out on you.”

Slowly, Timothy rose from his seated position, and took a few steps closer to the bed.

“I am… I was Princess Luna of the night and dreams of her subjects.”

He sat down on the bed edge, a confused look upon his face, but saying nothing.

“But something changed, when this nightmare took over, and I should be sitting here, angry, upset, and ready to take Equestria.” Pausing, she looked at him. “But I cannot find that anymore. But neither can I find Luna. I’m… between selves. I know not where to go, or what to do. Dare I say, who am I even?”

Placing his hand on her hoof, he smiled. “Well, I met Her Highness Nightmare Moon, and while I don’t call you Your Highness anymore, you’re still Nightmare Moon to me. Is that a start?”

She nodded, then with her wing drew him closer to herself, and pressed her forehead to his own, mindful of her horn.

“I also wish to start over. I… know I said and did hurtful things, and I need to correct those.”

“The past is the past, que sera, sera. You don’t need to change and be more different, just keep doing what you’re doing now. Keep fighting the bad in yourself, and trust me when I say you’ve been winning it, even if you don’t feel like it. I’ve seen you smile a few times even! Never would have done that before.”

“Neigh, it would have been… demeaning seeing us smile. That was Sister’s provocation. I was the serious mare who led the charge, she kept the troops’ morale high.”

“Well, that’s very thoughtful of you, letting your sister be the good pony. It makes sense why you did what you did, but that’s before. We’re in the now, so let's see where it takes us then, hm?”

Seeing her expression, he smiled back.

“There’s that smile, just, you know, watch those fangs.”

—-------

Staring at the stone in her room, Nightmare Moon looked on with surprise.

One thousand years. Today was the day.

“Hey, what’s wrong, Moon Pie?”

Smiling to herself, Nightmare Moon looked back to her bed where Tim was just starting to wake up.

“It is that day.”

He yawned. “What day?”

“One thousand years.”

He rubbed his eyes, walking over to stand beside her. It took him a long time to understand the markings, but instead trusted her to know what it meant.

“Oh, hey, that means you get to go kick your sister’s flanks and take over Equestria, right?” He leaned against her and rubbed her chest with his hand.

“Yes. I can even feel the barrier keeping me here wilting and breaking. Natural, Equestrian magic is once again beginning to flow in and my powers are slowly returning. With the right push, I could break out of here, and return.”

“And not behead your sister, right?”

“Aye. Sit down, talk it out, and hopefully hug.”

“Thatta girl.” He wrapped his other arm around her, doing just that.

“Much like this.” She nuzzled into his neck, then rubbed her face along his own.

“Well, when do you wanna start?”

She pulled back, and a hungry look fell upon her face. “Well, I’m in no hurry if you’re not…”

Tim shrugged. “It’s been eleven years, or a thousand years for you. What’s an extra few hours?”

—-------

Princess Celestia appeared on the moon’s surface, instantly bringing her magic up to keep her alive.

Something was amiss. The Summer Sun Celebration had gone off without a hitch. She knew her sister could feel the barrier keeping her here disappear. And yet she never showed.

The Elements of Harmony were never awoken, and while her pupil still made her friends, they didn’t reach their destinies’ full potential.

Walking towards the large moon rock and sand castle, she couldn’t help but admire the scale of the place. Entering, slowly and mindfully, she looked around and listened for any signs of her long-separated sister. Instead, she found nothing, and continued to wander the halls.

The structure and layout weren’t too different from their old castle in the Everfree, and sure enough she found her way to the lone bedchamber fit for a ruler.

She pressed an ear to the door, and listened.

It was quiet, but she could hear breathing.

Steeling herself, she flared her magic and opened the doors, ready to fight.

“Sister! I know not what keeps you here, but I am—”

She paused, mouth open, eyes wide, at what lay before her.

Her sister, still as Nightmare Moon, although eyes no longer vertical, lay in a bed, covered by a sorry excuse of a bed sheet. Beside her was a strange-looking pale creature, arms around the back of his head.

They both had small white sticks in their mouths, smoke coming from them.

“I knew it was a good thing in saving these Lucky Strikes,” he said, taking a puff.

“These are most vile, but the calming effect mixed with the afterglow is something truly special. Oh, hello, dear sister. Apologies for not showing up on time, but this was a special day, so we wanted to have some fun before coming down.”

“Then she got kinda rough. Fangs hurt, never taking mine for granted again. Also, nice to meet ya,” Tim said with a little wave. “So anyway, then we got sidetracked, distracted, and well, here we still are.”

“Oh, and I’m over the whole evil thing now. Tim helped me come to realize what I needed.”

“Love, care, and someone to be there,” he said.

“And a good, firm, virile rutting,” Nightmare Moon added.

“That too. Still weird seeing your eyes like that now, but I like it. It's cute.”

Amazingly, through the black coat, a faint blush came about.

“Anyway, so then after that we got to talking, like, about serious stuff.”

“Seriously serious,” Nightmare added with a giggle.

Celestia was still stunned silent, mouth open, and hadn’t blinked yet.

“So once we’re done here, gonna pack up and come down. Figured we’d give you some time to set things up for our wedding.”

Finally, she blinked. “W-wedding!?” Celestia choked out.

“Yeah, I mean, we kinda had a ceremony here a couple years ago, but the dust ponies didn’t really sell it for us. They were a bit dry.” Tim added with a chuckle.

“Oh, right, Our manners! Celestia, Sister, meet my future husband, Timothy Stone.”

“And Celestia, re-meet your long lost sister, Nightmare Moon. Or Luna, or whatever she decides to go with.”

Leaning over, her sister began nuzzling his neck. “I kind of like Nightmare Moon. It feels right.”

Tim brought his hand over and petted the side of her muzzle, mindful of his cigarette. “Whatever works for you, Moon Pie.”

They giggled, and started kissing, which turned into smooching.

She had… so many questions. What this being was, when he got here, how in Tartarus had he brought the evil out of her without magic!? More so, he would be her brother in law? Her mouth opened and closed several times, trying to ask something, only to be interrupted when one of them would moan, groan, or squeak.

Celestia turned around and marched out when her sister mounted the being, straddling him with her wings spread wide. Right then and there she decided that maybe the Elements of Harmony could wait a couple more years before being needed.

Not like Discord was going to come back or anything.