Nightmare Mom

You were surprised Mother remembered your birthday this time. Usually, you had to remind her, and she never gave you much more than a day off. You had grown accustomed to that, and generally spent the day in the library or training. Today, it was the library. Twilight Sands had sent you a book she had found in Cloudsdale, a collection of stories about knights in old Equestria. You were sure it was fiction, but you always liked reading about heroes like this. They always felt right to you, as opposed to what Mother now had you doing on an almost daily basis. Not to say you didn't enjoy throwing around your authority for unofficial business.

You finish off the chapter you were on, where one knight had just slain a dragon only to find the damsel he was rescuing missing, and decide to take a walk. You'd been here since you received the package, shortly after you finished your morning workout, and you felt it was time to stretch out. You teleport to your room to put the book away and grab a cloak before teleporting out to the gardens.

Fortunately, it was warmer than yesterday, but still cold enough to freeze the stream you appeared near. You start following it to its source, where you knew there was a pond. As you walk, you start imagining what this place would have been like when it was alive. The stream running past your hooves as you walked in it, the sound of the wind moving through the trees, lush with leaves, and gardeners walking around, tending to all manner of flowers. You smile to yourself as you imagine it, eyes closed as you walk, and you could swear you could smell the flowers.

You're jolted out of your imaginings as you bump into something. You look around in irritation to see an earth pony filly about your age in front of you, with a soft yellow coat, long orange mane and tail, and amethyst eyes. Your irritation immediately fades when you see her.

“I'm so sorry! I should have been watching where I was going!” She backs away from you, clearly recognizing you. She averts her eyes and bows quickly as she does so.

“No, it's okay.” You smile at her somewhat nervously. “I was, ah, lost. In thought.”

She takes a breath. “I was, um, lost too. I've never been in the castle before.”

“I didn't think I recognized you.” You rattle your brain, trying to think of something to say. Any pause seemed unbearable. “I'm Nebulus. The prince.”

“I know. I mean, I didn't know, until just now. When we ran into each other.” She smiles at you awkwardly. “I'm Orange Blossom.”

“That's a pretty name,” you say without thinking.

Orange Blossom blushes. “Thanks.” The two of you stand around awkwardly for a few moments. “I should, um, get going. It was nice meeting you.” She quickly turns to leave.

“Wait!” You trot alongside her. You push aside the butterflies in your stomach, determined not to lose this opportunity. Most fillies tended to keep a bit of distance from you. “I, um, don't have anything else to do today, so, um... maybe we could do something?”

“You- you want to do something with me?” She blushes again.

“Well, if you aren't doing anything else.” You try to act nonchalant, but you can hear the waver in your voice and know you failed miserably. You try not to look at her too expectantly, and fail at that, too. You're acutely aware of your racing heartbeat, but try to focus on her, but not too hard. The last thing you want is to look desperate.

“I'm flattered. I've never been asked out by royalty before.” She pauses for a moment to take a breath, a moment in which you can feel your heart clench up a bit. “Sure. What did you have in mind?”

You chuckle as relief floods you. “Well,” you begin, desperately trying to think of someplace one would take a filly on a date. An idea pops into your head. “It's about lunchtime, I think, and there's this nice restaurant down in the city, called 'Gaston's'. We could go there.” Fillies like fancy restaurants, right? Some of your books agreed.

“That sounds really fancy. And expensive. Could we do that?”

You feel yourself flush. “Well, yeah, I'm the prince. I can do what I want and go where I please. But, um, if that's too fancy, maybe a cafe? Th-there's one by the edge of the city with a good view.”

She smiles at you. “That sounds much better. Not that I want to sound ungrateful or anything! I just, you know...” She pauses to collect herself. “I feel like a fancy restaurant is too much. We just met.”

You laugh. “Right, I'm just not used to doing stuff like this.”

“Same here, really.”

“Good, we can both learn. Come on, let's go get a carriage.”

“This place really does have a good view," Orange Blossom says, standing near the edge of the city. You have acquired a table near it, hoping it was vast and sweeping and somehow beautiful to look at.

“That it does.” You get up and stand next to her. The two of you had already ordered. “Do you come out this far often?”

“No. I live near the mountain, working in one of the orchards. My family owns a small group of greenhouses.”

“I assume you grow oranges?”

She nodded. “I seem to be able to make them grow better than anypony else. It's how I got my cutie mark.” She shifts her flank so you can see an image of an orange blossom flower there. You blush slightly as you look. She looks at you. “What about you? A sword and shield could mean a lot of things.”

“That's... not really a pleasant memory.” Your face darkened.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry.”

“Let's just say I got it for something my mother didn't like.”

The two of you stand in silence. “So, um, what do you do as a prince?”

“A lot of things. Not all of them pleasant.” You look at her and see she's getting more and more depressed. “That's not to say it's all bad!” you say quickly. “I mean, I get to fly with the Shadowbolts if I want to. Nightshade and I went racing last week. I have almost complete freedom to go anywhere and do anything in the city, like I said earlier. Once, I went into a nightclub where they served alcohol. That was a fun night.”

She looks at you, eyes wide. “They served you and everything?”

You nod. “I just told them that if they didn't let me in, I could tell my mother about it. I usually go with that, or just ask if they'll dare to stop me. Both methods work. I went in, I drank, I danced, I chatted with the DJ, all sorts of things. I think she hit on me once or twice, too. The whole night is kind of a blur.”

“Wow. Does your mother know you do that?”

“She doesn't care.” That came out more bitterly than you wanted. You clear your throat and recompose yourself. “As long as I show up for duty on time, she doesn't make a fuss.”

Blossom looks back out at the horizon. “Do you ever wonder what it was like? Before? My parents talk about it often.”

“Yeah, I think about it. How it would have felt to run through tall grass, skim treetops as I fly, all sorts of stuff.” You chuckle. “Aren't we supposed to talk about, like, school, or parents, or sports or something? This is all pretty deep.”

Blossom looks past you, back at the table. “Our food's here. It's getting cold over here anyway.”

As you walk back to the table, you place your wing over her, pulling her a little closer to you. She's warm against your side. “Better?”

She smiles. “A little.” The two of you sit down, the torch now providing the warmth. “Do you play any sports?”

“Does racing with the Shadowbolts count? Or training?”

“I think that's more like practice.”

“In that case, no. I've watched a lot of them, though.” You take a bite out of your sandwich. “What do you play?”

“I like to play hoofball, when there's some free time.”

The two of you continue to converse for a while. The time passes in a flash to you, as you talk about friends, family (during which you remember to choose how you say things), and adventures. You try to downplay your own, so hers don't seem so mundane, like the time she got lost in one of the caves compared to your expedition to the northern mountains. But as you talk to her, you find yourself saying more than you wanted to, but she's more than forgiving of your tongue tripping on itself. The meal is long since over when you realize how late it's getting, judging by the street torches. “Have we really been here all afternoon?”

“It looks like it.”

The two of you walk to the front of the cafe, when an idea strikes you. Some butterflies return to your stomach.

“Have you ever seen the city from the sky before?”

She looks at you, confused. “What?”

You spread your wings.

“You can carry us both?”

You nod again.

She pauses, then steps closer to you, smiling. “Let's go!”

You nod, and dismiss the guards. You then wrap your forelegs around her and take off. You hear her let out a delighted squeal as you do so, carrying her higher and higher. You level off when you see you're well above the towers of even the castle. “You like the view?”

“It's beautiful!”

You look down, and realize it is. You can see the numerous torches that make the streets look like a river of shimmering gold and the lit windows dotting the buildings. “It's almost like the sky, with all the stars and no moon. So... peaceful.”

“I know. It's one of the few places I can go to relax.”

You fly around a bit more, showing Blossom the various areas of the city from the sky, even managing to snatch a flower from a vase as you flew low to a tower, enjoying the warmth of her body on yours. You weave the flower into her mane, and you hear her giggle. You start imagining waking up next to her, her amethyst eyes looking into yours from behind a tousled mane, smiling. Your heartbeat picks up as you smile at the thought. “Shall we go to the castle now, my lady?”

“Of course, my lord.” You can't see it, but you can hear the smile in her voice. She has her forelegs stretched ahead of her, like she's flying on her own.

You land in the courtyard, guards saluting you as you escort Orange Blossom inside to the main hall. Tables had been set up for dinner, rows of them, and food was being laid out. You notice your mother is sitting at the head of the center table, talking to some noble. She glances at you without breaking her conversation, but says nothing. Orange Blossom seems to shiver. You guide her away from your mother, placing a wing around her protectively. “Are you okay?”

She nods. “She just... scares me.”

“She has that effect.” You decide to grab food for both of you, and guide her out of the main hall. “Shall we begin the tour? That was the main hall.”

“Yeah.”

You look at her. “Are you sure you're okay? I could take you home, if you're uncomfortable.”

She shakes her head. “Let's... just go.” She gulps and presses closer to you. “You mentioned you liked to read. Where's the library?”

You lead her to the library, far from the main hall. She seemed more at ease the further you got. “A lot of it is empty. Mother took a lot of the books out and hid them. She says she burned them, but I doubt she found them all.”

“That's horrible!”

“I know. All that knowledge, all those stories, lost forever because Mother wants to make sure no ponies remember anything about the old days. Kill off their hope.”

“You really don't like her, do you?”

“No.” You decide to change the subject. You lean close to her and whisper, “I did manage to save some books.”

“Really? Where?”

“Only if you promise not to tell anypony else.”

Blossom nods. “I promise.”

“Come with me.” With that, you lead her to your room, noticing the fire has been freshly stoked when you arrive. You hang up your cloak and offer the same to Blossom, who hands it to you. You listen silently at the door, then scan your room for unwanted eyes.

“What are you looking for?”

“Somepony who might tell Mother about what I'm going to show you.” Satisfied you are alone, you push aside your bed to reveal multiple stacks of books.

Blossom gasps, clearly recognizing some of them. “You would be in so much trouble if your mom knew you had these.”

“Which is why I hide them.” You pick a few up with your magic. “These three, they're the kind I like the most. Stories about heroes, dragons, and damsels in distress. This one here,” You hold up a thick book entitled “The Trials of Sir Artorias.” “This one I found when wandering the castle one day when I was younger. I started reading it, and I couldn't put it down. It's been my favorite ever since. Every time I read it, I want to be like Sir Artorias, a brave and honorable knight who helps others rather than hurt them. A pony better than I am.”

“Better? So far, I've seen a gentlecolt, like my parents say I should find.”

You look away and put the books back. “I want to be, but I never feel like one. I'm glad I came through that way to you.”

“Your mother... does she make you do bad things?”

“She's a terrible pony and a terrible mother. The past few years, she's sent me to learn proper interrogation techniques, some of which...” You pause and fight down a surge of nausea. “She, herself, has taken me on a tour of the dungeons, showing me some of the prisoners. One of them has been there since the takeover, and he looks... broken. Broken right down into his soul. She never told me exactly what she did to him. I think he was the guard captain when she took over.” You sigh, and look at her. “I remember, when I was little, she never really raised me. I remember nannies more than her. I had a magic tutor who was terrified of both of us, so I wound up teaching myself a lot of magic, among other things. She sent me to go learn how to fly from the Shadowbolts. I even learned to fight from them, too.” You feel tears welling up as you speak. “All I wanted to do was impress her, make her proud of me, something, anything to get her to even acknowledge me! To treat me like her son! All I've gotten from her were orders, like I was some common soldier! And all this-” You gesture to your books. “-I don't know what would be worse, knowing she'd burn them if she ever found them, or the beating I'd get for punishment!”

Blossom only stares at you, horrified.

“I know! I get hit for disrespect, perceived or otherwise, I get hit for being late, I get hit for small messes, I get hit just because she's angry! And if it isn't that or work, she just ignores me! I'm her son! Why doesn't she love me?” You find yourself sitting on the floor in front of the fire, on the verge of outright sobbing. You wipe away your tears, sniffling. “And this... it'd be a beating for showing weakness.”

The next thing you know, Blossom is hugging you tightly. “I'm so sorry. I can't imagine what that's like.” She pulls away and looks you in the eyes. Her own are watery. “But please, don't forget that there are ponies out there who do care about you, no matter what. Like me.”

You reach a hoof up behind her head. You stare into each others eyes for a moment, drawing slowly closer until your lips touch. You both pull away from each other, as though you had been shocked, but you draw back into a proper kiss. You stay locked with her, noticing she's pulling you closer to her. You break off for a moment to catch your breath, then resume, instinct and passion taking over from here. Your tongue finds its way into her mouth, dancing with hers as she pulls you back to the floor.

You pull away as you realize what's happening, your body on top of hers, a stiffness from you pressed between your bodies. You see her flush, her eyes answering the question yours were asking. You kiss her once more as you start to grind against her, slowly; rhythmically. You feel her pull you tighter as you do so.

You attempt to align yourself with her entrance by touch, but it proves more difficult than you thought. You pull away from her to look before she pulls your head back to look at her, but it's enough. She gasps as you work your way inside her carefully. You don't want to hurt her from your own inexperience. You make it about halfway before you feel you can't push further, but it doesn't matter to you. All you can feel is her, her forelegs around you, her marehood enclosing you, her eyes, her smile, her breath, all off it exuding a warmth you never want to leave.

You withdraw enough to thrust, causing her to squeak. You do so again, and again, little squeaks and moans escaping her lips with each thrust, building into a slow, steady rhythm. You start kissing her on the neck, and you can feel her breath hot on your own neck, matching your pace. You hear her breathe your name as you do so.

You feel pressure building up in you as she tightens around you. She calls your name again, louder than before, and you find yourself saying hers. Your thrusting gets erratic as you feel your pressure build, Blossom enjoying every moment of it. Her moans increase in volume as she gets closer to her own finish, finally crying your name as you feel her pulse around you and something wet spill onto your legs. You feel yourself climax not long after her, your seed pulsing into her.

A few final thrusts and you withdraw, your mixed love fluids following your exit. You fall to the side, Blossom's very satisfied face lit by the glow of the fire behind you. You share a brief kiss, drawing her closer to you. You smile at her warmly. “I love you.”

You wake with the distinct feeling that something is missing. You open your eyes and find that Orange Blossom is gone. You stand and remember the night before. You smile and wash the parts of you that were used, then poke your head out of your door. “You. Guardsman.”

“Yes, my prince?”

“There was mare here last night. Did you see where she went?”

“No pony has left your chambers since I started watch.”

You nod and throw on your cloak, worry starting to well up in your mind. I never took her home. Her parents will be furious. And if they find out what we did... No, I can't be punished. But she might! Oh no- You arrive in the main hall to see your mother sitting on her throne and reviewing papers.

“So, you finally decided to wake. Good.”

You ignore her sarcasm. “Where's Orange Blossom?”

“Who? Oh, do you mean the filly you were with last night?”

“That's her! Did you see where she went?” You try to control both your voice and your trembling, but only succeed in the trembling.

“I paid her, she drank her tea, and left.”

Your heart was suddenly in a vice, tightening every second. “Paid?”

Nightmare Moon scowls at you. “Yes, paid. I paid her to take your virginity. Happy birthday.”

This was impossible. “No, that... She...”

Your mother cocked her head, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Did you... actually believe her? That she loved you?”

Emotional control was now lost you you. Every heartbeat felt like it came from a heart held in a case two sizes too small to hold it, and you felt your eyes well up. Nausea clawed at your stomach as well, threatening to overtake you completely.

Your mother shook her head, chuckling. “She is certainly a fine actress, then.” She returned to her papers. “Go, clean up, and report for duty.”

You stumble back to your room in a haze. You didn't want to believe it, not after everything you shared with her. It was only a day, yes, but for that one day, you felt better than you ever had before. And yet... It made sense. How nervous she was around your mother. Why a farm filly was even at the castle.

You enter your room, ignoring the concerned looks from the guards. You see the rug in front of the fireplace, a slightly darker spot on it the only marker of last night. With a yell, you grab it with your magic and stuff it into the fireplace. You yank your bed back into place, noticing a note attached to one of the bedposts. You open it to see it reads two simple words: “I'm sorry. I love you.”

With another yell, you toss it into the fireplace as well. You stomp around your room, kicking at random objects and throwing others, desperate for something to direct your pain and rage at. “I share my soul and my body with you, and this is how you repay me?!” you shout at the air, continuing your rampage. “I give you my heart, and you crush it like this?! WHY?! WHY WHY WHY WHY?! WHY CAN'T I HAVE SOMETHING GOOD IN MY LIFE? WHAT DID I DO WRONG?”

You seize a griffon knife from somewhere on the floor and hold it up to your throat. “If this is all my life is going to be, just pain and misery, what's the point of staying alive?” You press the blade against your throat, tears streaming down your face. You take a breath and close your eyes, steeling yourself, ready to end it, end the pain, end the despair. You wonder briefly if your mother will cry for you.

In one magical motion, you whip the knife away from your throat and in some direction, and you hear it embed itself in something. You make a feeble attempt to stop yourself from sobbing.