Chapter 1: A Midnight Soliloquy

or

Princess Luna Interrupts a Narrative When She Really Shouldn’t

***

“What doth trouble thee, musician?”

The batpony at the piano stopped mid-beat, orange eyes widened in surprise. Princess Luna stood at the foot of the stage, waiting patiently for an answer. The pianist's furred ears folded down, as she answered a question with a question.

“Why do you ask, Princess?”

“Your song-- it seems to be bittersweet. Especially for such an occasion.” A crowd, made up of her own kind, waited for her response. Painstakingly gathered from colonies all about Equestria, these brave stallions, along with a hoof-full of equally brave mares, were recently formed into Luna’s personal guard. As such, the event that was now in attendance was for celebration, with the Night Princess announcing higher plans for an all around Night Guard, nocturnal palace staff, and much more. So naturally, everypony was curious when the appointed musician played such a melancholy song.

“I-i have been emotionally confused, I’m afraid. If Your Highness would prefer, I could call Fortissimo to play instead.”

“Perhaps thou should. Then We shall be able to speak with thee.” The pianist gulped, and slid away from the piano to let her replacement settle in. Fluttering off the stage with her leathery wings, she joined Princess Luna in a dark corner.

“Is there something wrong, Princess?”

Luna looked at her subject with kind eyes. In the background, Fortissimo started up a rowdy song, encouraging an equally rowdy dance to begin.

“We should be asking thee the same question. What hast happened to thou? At the start of the week, thou didst seem to be fine.”

The pianist averted her gaze. “The start of the week hadn’t been so complicated.”

000

One dark and cloudy night, a bat pony stood gawking at the front entrance to Canterlot castle, saddlebags on her rump and suitcases at her side. With a determined glare, she hooked each wig around a handle, and began to move forward against her own will. After all, it wasn’t every night that a small-colony pony like her got invited to play at all evening social functions for the month-- including the Grand Galloping Gala.

With shivering excitement she cantered down various hallways, past sleepy guards ponies with white coats, and libraries full of books. So caught up was the young batpony in her surroundings, that with a startled shock, she realized that she was lost. The little musician began to panic, not sure what to do.

“Oh dear, oh dear….what if I’m late? Oh that won’t do at all!” Frightened, she continued along the dark halls at a clipped pace, searching frantically, not even realizing she was in somepony’s way until--

“Ah!”

“Ouch!... Hey, are you okay?” He was a big Earth pony, with a rich brown coat, and a hay-blonde mane, with a tail and sideburns to match.

“I-i’m alright!” She blurted, a bit stricken as he helped her up.

“Well, I’m glad. Wouldn’t want to add another pony to the infirmary.”

She stared at him, not sure what to make of his statement.

“It was a joke?”

“Oh! Um...should I laugh?”

“Nah, you don’t have to.” And awkward silence pervaded the short exchange. “.....Weeellll, goodnight!” He began to move on, silver platter cutie mark winking at her in the gloom. With a jump, she raced after him, remembering her task at hand.

“W-wait! Can you please tell me where the guest rooms are? If you don’t mind?”

“Not at all! You can follow me.” He extended a hoof with a good-natured grin. “I’m Marscapone, but all my friends call me Mars.”

She shook the massive thing with her own furry limb, thankful. “It’s nice to meet you.” Gathering her things, she followed him. “My name is--”

“Wait! Don’t tell me!”

“What?” She looked at him, a bit miffed. Was this the racism that her mother claimed to be abound in Canterlot?

“I want to guess. I have a knack for guessing names off a pony’s cutie mark.”

“Oh.” She glanced at her own cutie mark, a crescent moon with a flowing music note resting inside. “Um, guess away then.

He grinned, green eyes lighting up. “Okay, okay, erm… is it Moon Song.?”

“No.” she giggled, and his grin grew wider. The pair arrived at some stairs. Mars promptly took one suitcase on his back, and the other by it’s strap in his mouth.

“Um…” he mumbled from behind his cargo. “Is it Selene Bass?”

“No.”

“Lunacapella?”

“No”

“Sonic Aria?”

“No”

“Lunar Lute!”

“Nope!” she laughed, taking her suitcases back once they reached the top of the stairs. Mars scratched the back of his head.

“I was sure of the last one. Are you pulling my leg?” she shook her head, smiling. “Well,
here we are, at the guest hall. What number are you?”

“63. And no, I think my Dad would have a fit if I was named Lunar Lute.”

“Hmmm…” Marscapone stopped before guestroom door 63. He turn to look at his companion, and did a double take as he got a full illuminated view under a well place candle. Dark grey in color, she was on the lanky side, with orange cat’s eyes and even darker bat wings. Her mane was short in the back, dark purple curls spilling over one side of her face, and a shock of white nestled next to the eye still in sight. Her tail matched the same wild scheme, and under the candlelight, in a genuine smile, white fangs gleamed.

In shock, Mars waved the white flag. “I give up. What is it?”

“Moonlight Sonata.” She gave an apologetic look. “It’s longer than the usual name.”

“It’s a beautiful one….and much better than Lunar Lute.” The shared a laugh, as Marscapone opened the door. “It was nice meeting you Moonlight….maybe I’ll see you around sometime.”

She blushed. “See you…”

000

Luna drank some punch from a cup and mulled over the beginning of Moonlight’s narrative. “So thou did meet Our sister’s chef? And how doth this complicate matters? We recall thou to be fine once We did meet, after thou settled in.”

Moonlight took a small bite out of a cream puff, savoring the feathery moth inside. “I was fine during that night’s recital as well. The trouble started when I got lost...again.”

000

It was late morning-- way too late for a young batpony to be fumbling about. Moonlight groaned, tired from the night’s events-- meeting the Princesses, greeting ponies, accepting wishes of fortune, avoiding the snotty nobility and playing her heart out.

Everypony had enjoyed her latest violin piece, partnered with her good friend Fortissimo’s piano accompaniment. Her dull blue companion had been delighted to join her upon stage, wings flared up in excitement. Together, they had made the charity ball a hit, and by the time the function was over, everypony was in jovial spirits.

Fortissimo had left quite awhile ago, but Moonlight had wanted to snatch an early morning snack. By the time she arrived back at the palace, belly full of crickets, the musician realized-- she was lost again. Lugging a violin case behind her, Moonlight discovered that sunrise is not fun when your eyes are accustomed to darkness. Half-blind with slits for pupils, and the violin threatening to tip her over, she stumbled through the halls, screeching to try and gain a sense of direction.

“Moonlight!” A hoof stopped her fall, the bat pony's face a mere inches away from a roaring pan flame. Blinking, Moonlight found herself in the kitchens, and Marscapone towering over her with concern. Behind him, other chefs were laughing, flapping their appendages wildly and screaming, no doubt mimicking what she must have looked like a minute ago.

“Eee! Eeee! I’m as blind as a bat!”

“I’ve got bugs for brains!”

“I couldn’t suck your blood, so I’m going to make you laugh you brains out! Eee! Eee!” Moonlight turned a darker shade of grey, disappointed in herself for representing her tribe so terribly.

“Hey, knock it off!” Marscapone bellowed, helping her up. “You guys weren’t laughing when Orange nearly cut her hoof off yesterday!”

One of his co-workers rolled his eyes. “That’s ‘cuz if she got hoof filings in the food we’d be done for. Plus, Orange isn’t some sort of vampyric batpony.”

Moonlight stood stiff, whipping her head about to retort. “I don’t drink blood!” But the chefs continued to make fun, ignoring her completely. Eyes watering from embarrassment, she ran from the kitchens, wings flapping for extra speed. Half-blind once again, the batpony skidded around into a corner, finding solace in it’s shadowy gloom.

“Moonlight! Moonlight Sonata!” Mars puffed up to her, mane disheveled in his pursuit. “Hey…”

Moonlight looked away. “H-hey….”

“....Are you lost again?”

“....Maybe.” Turning about, Marscapone looked back at her with kind eyes.

“Come on, I’ll show you the way again.”

Grateful, Moonlight began to stumble at his side. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” he replied, taking her violin. “Plenty of ponies get lost in here. I think even the Princesses got lost, once or twice. Why make this place so huge if only two ponies live here?” Moonlight smiled at his humor, even as her eyes were heavy with sleep. “Now there’s a beautiful smile that’s got to stay. Don’t let other ponies get to you.”

“...I don’t drink blood.”

“I know.” Moonlight looked at him, confusion apparent. “If you did, I’m sure I the last time I’d get to see you was last night. Speaking of which,... why are you up so early-- er, late?”

Striving to match Mars’ stride, Moonlight replied. “I wanted a snack and didn’t realize the time….”

“A snack?” Mars began to climb a familiar staircase.

“Crickets. They’re sweet around this time of year. But moths are best.”

“Hmmm….”

“You think it’s weird, don’t you?”

“Well pegasi apparently know what rainbows taste like, so I don’t think I can judge. Last time I trust a gift from Bru.” They reached the top of the stairs. “Hey! I never got to ask you what you’re staying for!”

“I’m to play at all social functions for the month-- including the Gala.”

“Gosh! Are you nervous at all?”

“Most definitely. Princess Celestia wished me well in representing the music from my tribe, but-” The pair reached room door 63

“Ponies are racist?”

“I wouldn’t put it so bluntly…”

“That’s alright. Most of the ponies around Canterlot thought I was inferior because my family lived near griffons.” Like a gentlecolt, he opened the door.

“...What’s it like, living near griffons?”

“Let’s just say I never want to leave solid ground again.” Taking her violin from him, Moonlight pondered Marscapone’s statement. She could never imagine staying away from Luna’s starry night skies.

“Never?”

“Never.” Mars stood awkwardly before her, lifting a chocolate hoof. “So...what nights are you playing?”

“Pretty much every night.”

“I guess I can try and take time off to listen to you them.”

Passing into her room, Moonlight smiled. “I’d like that.”

000

“So thou art saying that Our sister’s chef was sweet? Despite the opinions of his companions? Forgive Us if We do not yet see the problem.”

Moonlight dare not give a sigh, though she was a bit frustrated. “That was merely the beginning of the week. I wasn’t finished.”

“If We do recall,” Luna continued, glancing at the party in it’s final stages. “After thou’s arrival on Monday, and thou’s performance on Tuesday,” she paused to take a sip of punch. “For the next three nights, matters were uneventful-- for thee at least. Though We also recall thee being saddened at his absence.”

“If I had known what he was doing, I wouldn’t have been so sad.”

000

For three mornings now, Marscapone had led Moonlight back to her room, pointing out ways for her to memorize the route. All the while the pair made pleasant conversation, something that Moonlight looked forward to. She couldn’t get enough time around him, and to her disappointment, Mars hadn’t shown up at any of her performances.

She supposed that he simply had to work or sleep during those hours, but it was still disappointing, nonetheless. Until Saturday evening, when an excited knock by a heavy hoof rattled her door. Curious, Moonlight had opened it to find Mars there, a big grin on his face and uniform a mess-- as if it had survived a sugar explosion. In one hoof, he held a container of rather ordinary looking cream puffs.

“Moonlight! I was hoping that you’d be up-- well, of course you’d be up-- but I need you to try this, like- right now.”

Moonlight blinked, a bit taken back. “Whatever for?”

Mars pranced on three hooves. “Because ! You remember the morning you told me about bugs, right?”

“...yes.”

“Well, I was was thinking, since bat ponies like-” the rest of Marscapone’s ramble was cooking science jargon, which Moonlight did not fully understand. As such, she was reduced to simple saying ‘uh-huh’ at the appropriate periods, and smiling. Lots of smiling. “-so I want you to try it. To see if I made something that we can serve at nocturnal functions for bat ponies.”

Moonlight looked from the pastries to Marscapone, then back to the pastries. Taking one by the wing, she bit into it-- and promptly moaned in delight. Mars had done something fantastic-- the feathery appendages of a succulent moth was lightly concealed with sweet molasses and wrapped in cool, firm cream in a soft outer layer of simple bliss.

“....How-”

“A lot of hours spent over time.” He gave a look of uncertainty. “Do you like it?”

“I do! I love it!”

“Do you think it should be one of the platters at your performance tomorrow?”

“Yes! This is wonderful! Your wonderful!” What Moonlight had meant to say was that his talent was wonderful, and having recognised what her words actually formed, she blushed at the implications. “I- I mean, um-- Why do you have a silver platter instead of some dessert for your cutie mark!?”

Marscapone, seemingly undisturbed, looked at his flank as Moonlight devoured the rest of the pastry to drown her own embarrassment. “Oh this? My talent is serving other ponies the best I can, and make them happy. Cooking is just something I have knack for….what’s yours?”

“Composing.” Moonlight replied, liking at bits of cream around her snout. “I like to write songs a play them. Back at home, other ponies would gather around our nook to hear me play.”

000

“Thou did not have a performance last night. What did thee do to pass the time?”

Moonlight waved to Fortissimo as he stole one of Marscapone’s cream puffs and trotted happily towards the exit. “We just talked. It was nice. Apparently his parents wanted to name him Mascarpone, but they spelled it wrong. He told me he kept it in order to differentiate himself from everypony else.”

“Our sister does compliment his confectionary work. Thou said that things were emotionally confusing? Now that We have head a narrative of all events from then to this moment, We are inclined to ask- how so?” Luna inquired with kind grace and noble understanding, looking every bit-- or at least the moon princess hoped-- like her older sister comforting one of her own subjects.

“Well I- I’m not quite sure, and I’ve only ever heard about this from older ponies, like my sister-- but I….I think-”

“Yes?”

“I think I might like him.”

Author's Note

Hi, everypony! Or nopony, that's fine too... I'm only going to say I'm new here because I want constructive criticism on my story (to make it better.) So I hope that you can oblige!