Chapters “We're not actually brothers, you know.” There was a faint flush on Prince Artemis' cheeks as he spoke.
“Oh?” Dusk Shine raised just one eyebrow, a little inquisitive gesture that he almost had to have picked up from Solaris, who did just the same thing when he thought he was being clever.
Artemis chuckled. “No. We were never born in the conventional sense, after all, so we can hardly be brothers when we have no parents and were not raised together.”
Dusk frowned faintly, thinking through things as he always did. “I see. But then why...?”
“Why call ourselves brothers? Because it's the closest word we have, I suppose. Because it's easier to say 'brothers' to curious ponies than to explain a complicated series of relationships that developed over several thousand years.”
Dusk shifted uncomfortably at the reminder of how very much older Artemis was than he. He didn't quite know what to think about that, in light of recent events. He distracted himself from his discomfort with another question. “So then if being brothers is what you developed into, what were you in the beginning?”
Artemis' aqua eyes grew unfocused as he cast his mind back. He rolled onto his back, tucking his wings against his sides as he did, and stared contemplatively up into space. “In the very beginning, we were enemies.”
Lightning strobed and thunder boomed overhead. Below, a lava flow crossed the land, spewed from a distant volcano. Hot air rose from the flow, sulfurous and turbulent. Riding that air, between the roiling clouds above and the boiling heat below, two forms circled on broad, feathered wings. One was pure white, his mane of fiery gold. The other midnight blue, his mane a pale blue-silver. Both bore horns upon their brows, alight with magic.
They lashed out at each other with raw power, shoving and pushing, one rising and then the other. The white alicorn was winning for the moment, pushing the darker one back and down towards the lava. The dark alicorn panted, straining to put every bit of power he could into pushing back, but it was no use, his enemy was stronger.
Suddenly a thought came to him. His magic blinked out for an instant and he shot backwards and down, coming dangerously close to the red-hot molten stone beneath him. But his horn lit again before he hit it and he soared upwards, free of his enemy's magic while his enemy was off balance from the sudden lack of resistance. His own magic reached not up to where the white alicorn was recovering his balance, but down to the flow below. It grasped a pony-sized glob of liquid and flung it skyward.
With a cry of surprise the white alicorn only just dodged the molten missile. “So that is how you will fight, you coward?” he called. “Very well!” He sized an even larger scoop of lava and hurled it at his opponent. The dark alicorn had expected it, and dodged the massive but clumsy blow easily. That gave him another idea, and he once more reached for the flow. This time, however, he sent a stream of small balls, that cooled into rock even as they flew. With so many in the air, it was harder to dodge. The white alicorn blocked some of them, but a few got through; smoking-hot rocks hitting his pristine hide with stunning force. He faltered as one struck his wing, and began to fall from the sky.
“Ha!” cried the dark alicorn. “This time I shall defeat you once and for all!”
“Never,” came the shouted response. “I will never yield! Not till the end of time!” Despite his brave words he continued to spiral down. His horn lit again, propelling him across the sky, away from the lava flow towards the relatively solid ground beside it. His hooves settled to the ground and he folded one wing, but the other remained spread, too damaged to be folded.
The dark alicorn dove, horn still aglow, his power reaching out to shove the lighter. But the other's horn lit too, and once more they were locked in combat, pushing and tugging at each other. With four hooves braced on the ground the white alicorn was actually harder to move, though he also could not dodge. But he managed, now that he was expecting it, to block several further attempts to repeat the various tricks with flung lava.
Finally, panting, his horn's glow dimmer now, the dark alicorn landed too. But he was by no means ready to concede defeat. He charged at the white alicorn, and they met horn to horn in a shower of magical sparks. The white alicorn was the taller of the two, and his horn was longer. So it was not long before he was shoving his slightly smaller rival back. He pushed harder and harder until the midnight blue alicorn's heels were at the edge of the lava flow.
The smaller alicorn gritted his teeth and stopped there, straining, pushing back with all he had.
It was not enough. With one last, convulsive effort the white alicorn suddenly pitched him backwards, tumbling him off his feet entirely and into the red-hot molten rock. The swift flow swept him away even as it closed over him and he vanished.
Lifting his head in weary triumph, the battered victor's horn lit once more. The swirling storm above began to calm. The thunder and lightning faded, and far off, near the horizon, the clouds began to break up, revealing a dark, empty sky beyond.
The sun came up.
“You have only won for now!” came a distant voice. The white alicorn turned to see that his rival, his fur blackened and his wing feathers crumpled and scorched, had pulled himself out of the lava flow some distance down stream. “Night will fall again!”
“Not this time. This time the sun will shine forever!”
“Enemies?” Dusk's eyes were wide. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” Artemis couldn't help but smile over at Dusk. His wonder and innocence could be so charming sometimes.
“You're not talking about when you were banished to the moon?” Dark suddenly flushed and added, “I probably shouldn't bring that up.”
Artemis rolled over to face Dusk in the spacious bed, which happened to be his, and reached out to give Dusk's cheek a reassuring caress. “You of all ponies can mention it all you want, Dusk. I am not so foolish as to pretend it didn't happen. But no, this was before that. Before everything, when the world was new.”
“But you became friends eventually, didn't you?”
“Eventually yes. It took a long time though. In the early days we fought directly, but even after we both realized that such conflict was accomplishing nothing save to cause chaos and destruction we still didn't become friends for a very, very long time. We had a sort of truce, in those days, but we were still rivals.”
The sun was just kissing the horizon to the west, while the edge of a full moon eased above it to the east. It was the vernal equinox. The mountains were still bearing a cloak of snow on their slopes, while below the greening of spring had just begun in the valley.
High up on the mountain, above the current snow line, stood a circle of standing stones. The light fell just so across the stones on this special day.
In that instant, when night became day on the day that both forces were perfectly balanced, two sets of hooves touched down outside the circle. Two alicorns landed, turned, and walked within the ring.
One was purest white. His mane was long and golden and flowed with subtle power. Feathers and beads were braided into it, hanging in strands just behind his ears. His tail too was so decorated, and flowers, the first of spring, were scattered amid the flowing locks.
The other was midnight blue. His silver-blue hair too was long and flowing, but bore no adornments, save tiny sparkles of magic that resembled the stars which were even now beginning to show as the sun's light faded. He spoke first.
“I have finished my stars, Solaris. Are they not glorious?”
“Oh, they're all right, I suppose. But what use are stars, Artemis? Can your ponies eat them? Can they wrap themselves in them against the cold? Are they weapons for use in battle?”
Artemis frowned. “My ponies appreciate them. They sing to them when the sun sets and the moon rises.”
“Their songs were no help when my ponies came raiding, were they?” Solaris smirked, the smug expression of a schoolyard child who has seen his worst enemy trip and skin his knee. “How many did you lose this year?”
Artemis put his ears back. “They still survive. I have not lost yet.”
“Yet ,” said Solaris, the smirk turning into an outright grin. “But soon enough I know you will.”
“And what then? The day to last forever?”
The smirk turned to a scowl. “You know I'm not that foolish. Eternal day would scorch the life from this world. We agreed we had to take turns in the sky. I will not break my vow.”
Artemis looked at his hated rival for some time in silence. Then he nodded. “You have kept it thus far. And I keep mine.”
“You'll keep it even when you lose? When your ponies are all dead?” Solaris was smirking again.
“If ,” said Artemis angrily, emphasizing the first word heavily, “I should lose, yes I will keep my vow. No more direct battles. No more tearing up the land. No more feeding chaos. I am not an animal, to thoughtlessly fight when such fighting will destroy everything.”
A little bit of the smirk faded from Solaris' face. “No, you are not. Neither am I. And... it is better this way. Better to compete with our chosen bands of ponies than to bite and claw at each other like rabid wolves.”
Artemis sighed. “Perhaps you only say that because for now you have the upper hoof. But do not rely on that situation lasting, Solaris. I will find a way to defeat you.”
Solaris laughed. “We shall see. Next year?”
“Next year.”
“What changed, then?”
“The fact that we were not alone in the world,” said Artemis wryly. “Ponies do not rule this planet. There are many other races who share it with us, we rule only a small portion of it. And there have been times when even that was by no means certain.”
“The gryphon wars, you mean?”
Artemis chuckled softly. “Oh no. Long before that. We fought dragons in those days.”
Dusk's eyes went even wider. “The dragon war? You... you mean Haymer's Solarliad , and his Long Voyage are true?! ”
Artemis grinned and shook his head. “They are not entirely fiction, but they are not much like what actually happened.”
Dusk nodded, then flushed. “And I suppose none of the other myths of that era, with you, and Solaris, and all the turning-into-swans and carrying on with mortal ponies probably aren't true either...?” Dusk trailed off, looking incredibly flustered.
“They are not entirely fiction either, but also not entirely truth,” said Artemis. His smiled turned teasing and he added, “You know, you turn a very fetching color when you blush. Though after what happened last night, I wouldn't think that the mere thought of Solaris and myself, how did you put it? 'carrying on' would make you turn quite that red.”
“I... uh...” Dusk blushed even brighter at that. “You... uhm... you were telling me about how the dragon wars made you two stop being enemies?”
“So I was. Well, it took quite some time afterward for us to become what you might call friends but we did definitely become allies during those years. And that wasn't the only thing that changed...”
“Here, catch.” Solaris' magic tossed the helmet through the air, and Artemis caught it with his. It was a graceful thing, silvered bronze ornamented on top with bristles dyed a deep, vivid blue. He settled it on his head, fitting it carefully over his horn.
“Thank you,” he said.
“My earth ponies have become quite expert armorers these days.”
“Aye. And it's well that they have. I remember last time the dragons bothered us. This time I hope we'll have fewer casualties.”
“We've both trained our unicorns well, I think, so the fire-shields should hold.”
“Yes.” Artemis' smile was suddenly fierce, eager. “And you know what that means.”
Solaris' grin matched his. “Oh yes. This time we'll give them a battle they'll remember for centuries. This time, without the need for us to hold back and bolster the defenses, you and I can join the fight. Not with our full strength--" he added hurriedly, "Our vow still binds us.” He looked at Artemis, who nodded. “But with power enough to chastise the dragons well, I think. And we couldn't have done it without your mariners and their star charts. Our army is on dragon soil now. This time we carry the fight to them!”
Artemis nodded gracefully. “But it is your armorers who provide the weapons that can pierce dragon's hide.”
“With those weapons we'll make them regret the day they ever decided to invade pony lands.”
“Indeed. And hopefully that means that once this battle is over, peace will lie before us, and our ponies will have no more need to fight.”
“Growing soft, are you?” A little bit of the old smirk was in Solaris' voice, but just a little.
“As are you,” replied Artemis, his brow creased and his mouth set in a thin line. “Or was that just a bit of sea spray in your eye when the dragons sank the Golden Fawn with all hooves?”
Solaris stiffened, a sharp retort on his lips, but then suddenly sighed. “Yes. There were many fine warriors I admired on that ship. You know... When they used to fight against you, when I could not join the battles with them, it was easy enough to remain aloof. But now that I fight beside them I cannot help but see their courage and admire it. Admire them, even. They are not like you and I, but that doesn't make them lesser beings. Only different.”
Artemis nodded. “I feel much the same. I never even lived among my ponies as you did, in those olden days. I always stayed at a distance, the better to awe them. But now...”
“Yes.”
There was a long silence between them. But it was no longer the charged silence of a pause during battle. It was something else, something warmer and more comfortable.
Finally Solaris shook himself. He caught up his spear with his magic. “Time to go. The scouts should be reporting in any minute now.”
Artemis took up his own spear, his silvery magic gripping the bronze-headed weapon. “Let us go then.”
Solaris stepped out through the door of the tent, into the hot noonday sun. His golden mane, cropped shorter now than it had once been, was half hidden under his helmet, but his tail still waved magnificently. His beard was golden too, and as carefully groomed as the rest of him. With his bronze-gold armor and his crimson crested helm he looked every inch the god his people thought him.
Artemis followed. His own mane had been cropped short as well. In the brilliant sun the star-flecks that sparkled in it were hardly visible. Almost immediately, they were beset by Solaris' ponies, eager for the coming battle. They swarmed around their alicorn, cheering and jostling, and Solaris was drawn steadily away by the crowd. Artemis' soldiers were here as well, of course, but he had poured his attention and planning into building the ships and training the mariners for this expedition, leaving the planning of the battle itself to Solaris. That meant that all the generals were Solaris's ponies, not his. So were the most important scouts, and the runners that coordinated the various groups of soldiers. Only the commanders of Artemis' own companies were of his choosing, everyone else in any sort of leadership position in the great army was one of Solaris's followers.
Artemis tried to dismiss that train of thought. Solaris hadn't chosen from his own people in order to deny Artemis power. Of course not. It was simply that he didn't know Artemis' ponies the way he knew his own. He didn't know which of them would be the best leaders, that was all.
Still as Solaris rose into the sky and a cheer erupted from a thousand throats below, Artemis couldn't shake the feeling that somehow, in some way, Solaris had beaten him again.
“What else changed?”
“Ponies changed, I suppose is one way to put it. Or the way we related to ponies changed. We were worshiped as gods in the early days. Neither of us ever thought it might be otherwise, to be honest. But the dragon wars began to change things. As did the peace that followed.”
“Change things how?”
“You've studied history, Dusk. You should be able to answer that.”
“You mean... things like philosophy, when ponies started to think about the nature of the universe, and gods, and ponies?”
“Indeed. Trade too, and the growth of cities. Ponies became more cosmopolitan. The word itself hails from around that era.” Artemis smiled. “When you're a primitive tribespony, living in a little village, and your god is right there, performing miracles every day, you don't question that he is god. But when you can travel the world and see that your god doesn't seem to have anything to do with the rest of it, well... what kind of god is he?”
“But ponies still... I mean, you're both still worshiped today.”
“Yes. And we don't try to prevent it, in part because there's a certain truth to it. I am the Herald of the Moon, Solaris is the Envoy of the Sun. We are gods of a sort. But not the sort they used to think us. We are not infallible. And in many ways we are more like mortals than we are unlike.”
“Trust the two of you to wake up and immediately dive into philosophy,” said a new voice. Solaris sat up and stretched, yawning, his mane somewhat more disarrayed than was usual for the normally perfectly groomed prince.
Dusk found himself flushing again. “Uhm. Good morning.”
“A very good morning indeed,” said Solaris with a certain smug serenity.
Dusk blushed more. “Uh...”
Artemis laughed. “He has a delightful blush, doesn't he, brother?”
Solaris chuckled gently. “Among his many other attractive qualities. Though I'll admit I didn't choose him as my special student because of the blush.”
Dusk debated trying to pull the blankets over his head. Or perhaps he could simply die of embarrassment. He didn't exactly regret waking up in the morning sandwiched between the two most powerful, most interesting, most intelligent, and most attractive ponies in Equestria, but having them team up to tease him was more than a little unfair.
“Little things like a potentially brilliant mind, a great magic talent, and a highly inquisitive nature had a lot to do with it,” said Solaris, his smile gentling a bit. “And given that latter I suppose I shouldn't be surprised to find the two of you up to your eyebrows in philosophy first thing in the morning.”
“We weren't really discussing philosophy as such,” said Dusk, finally deciding that hiding under the covers wouldn't help, so he might as well just plunge forward. “That was only an aside. Artemis was telling me how you two used to be enemies, then started to tolerate each other, and then became friends.”
“Oh ho! Well if that's how he told it, he's left out some of the best parts,” said Solaris with a wicked grin.
“Oh sweet Faust,” said Artemis, burying his face in his hooves. Dusk noticed that Artemis was suddenly blushing too.
“We were enemies, that's quite true. And we tolerated each other as allies for a bit, but before we settled into friendship our relationship had another, rather more... interesting phase.”
Artemis walked amid graceful marble columns, lost in thought, while the newly risen moon threw long shadows across the marble floor of his temple. Or perhaps it might more properly be called a shrine. It was modest, as such things went. The larger Temple of Artemis was amid the great city of Roan, that he and Solaris had founded together. His priests were to be found there, and his worshipers mostly came there. The temple of Solaris stood near it, where Solaris himself dwelt amid his worshipers. But Artemis had always needed a little more space than his ally. He didn't know how Solaris could live with ponies always underhoof.
In the quiet he easily heard a hoof-fall that was not his own. He turned and found Solaris standing there.
He looked magnificent, as always. He was still taller than Artemis, and his build a little heavier. His mane and tail were currently fairly short, not quite so much following the current fashion among ponies as setting it. He wore a golden helmet, but it was a decorative piece now more than true armor. As were the golden shoes that adorned his hooves and the golden peytral on his chest.
Artemis had such regalia as well but here, in his solitary mountaintop refuge, where only the most devoted of his followers ever ventured, he seldom wore them. He had let his own mane and tail grow a bit longer. They still sparkled gently with starlight, the only thing that marked him as something other than mortal. He felt suddenly inadequate next to Solaris's magnificence.
“What brings you to my temple?” he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.
“Nostalgia, I suppose,” said Solaris. “It's the vernal equinox. And I haven't seen you in several years. I thought I'd make sure you were still around.”
“I am. I do not remember our old meetings so fondly that I miss them, though.”
“No?” Solaris's tone was gently teasing. “Why not?”
Artemis snorted. Why would he enjoy listening to Solaris gloat? Oh certainly he had occasionally gained the upper hoof, and he'd gloated himself readily enough back then. Still, they were not fond memories. But “I prefer more civilized times,” was all he said.
“I'll admit I mostly do as well. Yet civilization is sometimes... tame. Boring even.” Solaris stepped closer to Artemis.
“I suppose it is. But what alternative would you offer? A return to living in the wilderness, cropping grass and gathering berries? Or should we take up our old battles again, and lay waste to the world?”
“No, I don't want to step backwards, Artemis. I want to go forwards, into something... new.”
Artemis gave Solaris a quizzical look. The other alicorn was standing very close now.
“Something new. I suppose you have something specific in mind?”
“I do indeed. Something I learned from my little ponies, so perhaps you do not yet know of it. Or perhaps you do.” Solaris was smiling. It was a smile a little bit like the old smirk that Artemis so hated, but there was something else in it. Something that smoldered like lava in his amethyst eyes. Artemis found himself feeling strangely uneasy beneath that gaze. He took a step backwards.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Tell me, Artemis, how do I look to you? What do you see?” He turned, fanning his wings, arching his neck with proud, graceful strength, his mane flowing around him.
Artemis felt his mouth go suddenly dry. “I... I see a magnificent god,” he said softly, unthinkingly.
“Which is much like what I see when I look on you, Artemis. The stars are in your hair, and no other being in the world is so well matched to me. No pony is my equal. Save you.”
“I... I don't understand.”
Solaris stepped closer again, and this time Artemis didn't step back. They were nearly touching now. Solaris looked directly into his eyes. “Surely some pony, somewhere, has offered you worship of a different sort, have they not? Offered not just prayers, or offerings, or incense. Offered to worship you more... intimately.”
Artemis found his heart was beating faster, and a flush crept into his cheeks. “There have been a few such, yes.”
“And if you accepted, did you find it fulfilling?”
“I...” Artemis was blushing in truth now, remembering. “No. No I didn't.”
“Nor did I. Worship is not what I want. A pony eager to serve at my feet... No. I need someone to match me. Someone to challenge me. Someone like you, Artemis.” He took one more step forward and their horns touched, sliding against each other in a gentle caress.
Artemis shuddered. When not shielded unicorn horns were supremely sensitive. He felt as though that touch raced through his entire body, setting it aflame. Looking into Solaris' eyes he suddenly wanted to do as Solaris had said, to match him, to challenge him. He wasn't sure if it was just because he wanted, yet again, to somehow win, or if it was because of the electric heat that had filled him at Solaris' touch, but either way he knew he had to answer that touch.
So he moved forward himself, sliding his horn along Solaris' and then away as he tilted his head and kissed Solaris with heated passion.
Dusk looked from Artemis on one side, still blushing brightly, to Solaris on the other, who wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. There was really only one logical conclusion he could draw from that. “You were lovers?”
“We were.”
“I... uh... suppose I shouldn't be shocked.” He still was, just a little. Last night had not involved a great deal of logical evaluation, for one thing. And one single data point did not a pattern make. Though really I suppose last night should count as more than one... That thought threatened to make him start blushing again.
Artemis snorted, letting his hooves fall. “Nor should I be shocked that Solaris jumped straight to that part of the story with such enthusiasm.”
“If I'd let you tell it you'd have glossed things over. Used polite euphemisms, and so on. You know you would have.” Solaris grinned.
Artemis rolled his eyes. “Just because I have manners and don't behave like a cavepony...”
“I have manners too. I just know how to let them go and live a little. You still are such a wet blanket sometimes, Artemis.”
Artemis just snorted wordlessly at that.
“You said you became friends though,” said Dusk, returning to his questions. He wanted to hear the whole story, every single thing that had happened between them. He had read every scrap of history on the Royal Pony Brothers that existed, but there were huge gaps, and places where history and myth were impossible to tell apart. Now, though perhaps other things should have been on his mind, he couldn't keep himself from jumping eagerly at the chance to learn .
Solaris and Artemis exchanged amused glances over Dusk's head. “Yes, we became friends,” said Artemis. “Being lovers didn't last. We have had occasional... dalliances since then, admittedly, but I do not think we are suited to be lovers. Not,” he added, with a warm smile at Dusk, “without someone to mediate between us, at least.”
“Though we ceased to be lovers, we had much to bind us together in those days,” said Solaris “We were still thought of as gods by most, and we took that duty seriously. We wanted to guard and guide our little ponies, and we could do that best together. And who else could we confide in but each other? We were great friends. Yet there was always a certain... tension between us.”
“The ancient conflict was never truly resolved,” said Artemis softly. “We called a truce that somehow became permanent, but the battle was never properly concluded. And though Solaris was the one I could confide in in all else, there was one pain I could not share with him. So it began to fester within me.”
“And I was too blind to see it. For me the battle had been resolved: in my mind, I'd won long ago. I never realized that for Artemis it was different.”
The construction site was a veritable changeling hive of pony activity. Unicorns floated loads of stone along in teams, pegasi hoisted individual blocks, and earth ponies measured and mortarted and muscled the stones into place all along the rising walls.
“It's coming along very nicely.”
Artemis turned to see Solaris approaching, a genial smile on his face. Artemis smiled back. “Yes. We'll be ready to begin on the dome within a month, I think.”
“I am still amazed at your design, my friend.” Solaris clapped Artemis on the shoulder with one hoof. “No one has ever built a building like this one. The Neighia Sophia will be the greatest cathedral ever built anywhere in the world.”
Artemis found himself flushing a bit at Solaris' generous praise. “Thank you.”
“And your notion for combining our worshipers, just brilliant! The new faith is already spreading like wildfire. I think it may finally ease the last of the tribal tensions between your people and mine.”
“I hope so,” said Artemis solemnly.
“It's only right for our peoples to become friends.” Solaris smiled benignly at Artemis. “Our friendship is something I treasure greatly.”
“I treasure it as well,” said Artemis, returning the other alicorn's smile.
“But come! Show me everything! I haven't been to the site in months. You can leave out the math, please, but I want to know what you're doing here.”
Artemis chuckled. “Of course. Come this way, we can view the construction from atop the scaffolding.”
He took wing, Solaris behind him, and flew up to the top of the towering scaffolds that surrounded the rising building. He always enjoyed Solaris's company, and it was a pleasure to be able to show off his grand project to his friend. “There,” he said pointing with one hoof, “is where the dome itself will sit. And around it you can see the other chambers. They're putting on the last of the arches that support those now, so we'll be roofing them over soon. And there will be stained glass in the windows, of course. I've already had the artisans begin work on the pieces. There are also artisans ready, once we complete the structure, to do a great deal of interior work. Your budget has been quite generous, and some of their ideas for decoration are very exciting. There will be mosaics, of course, the ceilings of the supporting half domes there and there will be covered in them, but we're also bringing things from all over the empire. It will be a grand union of all our peoples, to symbolize our union and the union of our followers.”
“I can't wait to see it finished,” said Solaris. “What about that bit over there?” He pointed, and Artemis explained further, chattering happily about his project, eager to share every detail with his friend. Solaris asked endless questions, drawing more details out of Artemis, seemingly infinitely patient with Artemis' often lengthy explanations.
After well over an hour had passed Solaris finally said, “I should be going shortly. I have duties to attend to.”
“Of course,” said Artemis. “Shall I fly with you back to the palace?”
“I had intended to walk, but you're welcome to walk with me.”
“I would enjoy that,” said Artemis. He was a little baffled by how much Solaris walked when flying was so much easier. And walking was practically an invitation for ponies to bother you as you went. Though perhaps that was why Solaris did it, mused Artemis as the pair alighted on the street outside the construction site and began to make their way across the city. Artemis liked his ponies, but often found their presence tiring. Solaris, however, seemed to absolutely relish the company and attention of his followers.
Indeed, as they strolled slowly up the street a number of ponies approached Solaris. Some seemed merely to wish to greet him. Others had some matter they wanted his intervention on. Of those a few got brief words of advice on the spot, while most were invited to come to his court and present their issue formally.
One earth pony stallion included Artemis in his greeting. “It is a delight to see Your Lordships together,” he said with a bow.
“You follow the new faith then?” asked Solaris with interest.
“I do, Lord Solaris.” He bowed again. “You and Lord Artemis both are my lights.” He bowed to Artemis too. Artemis smiled, feeling pleased to see his idea already bearing fruit.
“I look forward to visiting the great cathedral, My Lords,” added the pony. “Your brilliance in creating it awes us all, Lord Solaris.”
Artemis' footsteps faltered at that. But before he could say anything the pony had bowed again and vanished down the crowded street.
Solaris shook his head. “The cathedral is your idea, not mine,” he said with a faint note of annoyance in his voice. “I really do wish more ponies realized that.”
“Yes, I do too,” said Artemis.
“So... that led to The Black Stallion and your exile?” said Dusk solemnly.
“Eventually, yes. We grew particularly close when we were in Coltstantinople, that was when we began to call ourselves brothers, but...”
“It's Istanbull now,” said Solaris with a little sigh.
Artemis shrugged and smiled. “It was Coltstantinople until my exile, I wasn't there to see the siege by the Minotaurs or any of what followed, so it will always be Coltstantinople to me.”
“Be glad you weren't” said Solaris sadly. “Those were terrible times. But if you had been there, if I hadn't been so foolish and driven you away, the city might not have fallen. I never realized, until you were gone, how much of the empire rested on your shoulders. I was the face of the empire, perhaps more than I should have been, but you were its heart, Artemis.”
“I never begrudged you the center stage, brother. I never wanted that. I just wanted recognition for what I did do. But that's all history now. Literally," he added with a ghost of a smile.
Dusk looked between the two of them, each staring sadly at the other over his head, and felt suddenly out of place. He didn't belong there, separating them. They belonged together. They'd been together for a period of time greater than he could even comprehend. Even though he, too, was an alicorn now, he wasn't like them. He was suddenly very, very conscious of the fact that he, a relatively ordinary mortal colt, was lying in Prince Artemis' bed. Prince Artemis, Herald of the Moon, immortal alicorn god. With The Eternal Solaris, Envoy of the Sun, ruler of all Equestria, next to him.
“Uhm. Should I... go?”
Both alicorns turned to stare at him, surprised by the sudden doubt in Dusk's voice. “Do you want to go?” asked Solaris.
“I... well...”
“We won't keep you here if you'd rather leave,” said Artemis gently.
“It's not that, it's just...”
“Just?”
“I'm just another pony,” blurted Dusk. “You're, well... gods! And you've been together for so long. I shouldn't come between you.”
“Whether we qualify as gods or not depends in how you define the term,” said Artemis with a little smile. “We could debate it, if you like. But whatever we are, you are not just another pony.”
“We're not perfect either,” said Solaris.
“No. We're not perfect at all.”
Artemis gently set aside his quill and regarded the papert in front of him with a smile. The miniature portrait of Solaris was coming along nicely. It would be the frontspiece of a lushly illuminated version of his Materia Medica , which he was making as a gift for his brother.
It always pleased him to call Solaris brother. He couldn't quite remember when they'd begun to do so, but by now it felt natural, right. It wasn't literally true, but it captured the spirit of their relationship.
His horn lit for a moment as he raised the moon. It was utterly automatic after all these centuries. And with the sunset it was time for him to leave his luxurious quarters in the royal palace and venture forth amid the ponies. Solaris was holding another ball tonight and Artemis had promised to go.
He donned his regalia, admiring the black enamel work on it. He had designed this version of it himself, and was very proud of how it had come out. He'd designed Solaris's latest regalia as well. He was never happier than when he was creating some artwork or other, though he also enjoyed reading, writing, and organizing the ever growing library housed in the palace. Of course, his royal duties included a great deal of the paperwork that made the empire run. That was occasionally tedious, but there was a certain undeniable pleasure in a column of accurate figures--especially since they'd adopted the new numerical system borrowed from the neighboring Minotaurs. He'd pushed for that from the moment he'd encountered the Minotaur's elegant numbers; they were so much easier than the clunky Roanan system that they'd used for centuries.
He mused happily on numbers and art as he trotted through the halls, absently returning the occasional greeting from one of his subjects as he passed. Soon he arrived at the grand ballroom. It was crowded with ponies, and he heaved a little sigh at the sight of the multicolored sea of them. Socializing was draining; he didn't know how Solaris did it day in and day out. Still, it had to be done, so Artemis braced himself and joined the milling throng.
He could see Solaris, standing on the dais at the far end of the room, regally presiding over the proceedings. A steady stream of ponies mounted the dais to greet him. He spoke briefly to each one, and often shook a hoof or returned a small, almost-bow to those who bowed to him.
“Your Imperial Majesty.” Artemis spun around at the voice, obviously addressed to him, and nearly tripped. A distinguished looking unicorn mare stood there, bowing deeply.
“You may rise,” he said, putting on the formal front that helped him cope with these occasions. He had the feeling he'd spoken with this mare before, but he had no idea what her name was. He was not very good with names. So many ponies came and went over the years. How was one expected to keep track of them all?
“Your brother hosts a most congenial party, Your Majesty.”
Artemis favored her with an aloof, regal smile. “Indeed he does.”
“He is also extremely wise, they say.”
“That is quite true,” said Artemis.
“I have a... personal matter that would be greatly aided by his assistance,” said the mare.
Artemis frowned faintly. Not this again. “I see,” he said noncommittally
“I have, of course, applied to be seen during his public court sessions, but there is always such a crowd of peasants there, and my appointment is not for some weeks yet. I was wondering if perhaps...”
“I am afraid that I cannot make private appointments on my brother's behalf. You will need to speak to his secretary,” said Artemis stiffly.
“Oh. I see. Well, thank you for your time, Your Majesty.” She turned and made her way through the crowd, and it was only with great difficulty that Artemis refrained from glaring at her hatefully.
Four more times that night he was approached by ponies wishing to gain access to his brother. Four more times he turned them away. Only once did a pony seem interested in him for his own sake, and that of course was Starswirl, who as always wished to discuss magic theory with the only other person in the empire equally obsessed with obscure academics. Artemis did enjoy the hour or so he spent chatting with the bearded unicorn, but the rest of the evening was pure torture.
At last Solaris retired, and etiquette allowed everypony else to leave. Artemis fled the room immediately.
Back in his own quarters he stood on the balcony and looked out over the sleeping city of Coltstantinople. Here and there a lamp glimmered; not all the city slept... but most of it did. As the wealthy and powerful returned to their homes more and more lamps went out. By the time the moon began to sink from its zenith towards the horizon the city was utterly silent, deserted.
Artemis was alone. Completely alone with his night. He gazed up at the moon. Its image wavered as tears gathered in his eyes. He turned away from the empty night, away from the stars that few ponies ever bothered to gaze at, away from his lonely moon and ran into his chambers.
For a moment, filled with jealous rage, his horn lit, lifting his portrait of Solaris to shred it to pieces. Then he stopped. That would accomplish nothing. He set the paper gently back on his desk with a sigh.
“He has won again,” said Artemis bitterly. “He always wins. But someday, somehow, I swear I will beat him. Somehow I will make the ponies appreciate my art. Somehow they will love my night, I swear it!”
“If we were perfect,” said Artemis sadly, “I would not have broken my ancient vow. I would not have give in to madness and become The Black Stallion.”
“And if we were perfect I would have found some better way than exile to deal with my brother's madness. We are far from perfect, Dusk.”
“But I still don't want to come between you...”
Artemis smiled a bit at that. “Between us is exactly where you should be. You are the one who found the way to break my madness and bring me back to myself. You are the one who healed the breach in our friendship.”
“Yes.” Solaris leaned forward and kissed Dusk gently on the nose. “We need you, Dusk. You complete us. You may not have been there since the beginning, but you are an alicorn too.”
Dusk felt his breath catch. They really did want him there. Though some doubts still clung to him. “What about Bolero, then? He is an alicorn as well...”
Solaris chuckled. “If he could possibly be pried away from your sister, I might consider trying a foursome. But no, It's not just because you're an alicorn, Dusk, that we want you here with us. It's because you're you. Prince Dusk Shine. Formerly my best and most faithful student. Now the only pony in Equestria who I can trust as I trust my brother. The only one who has come close enough to truly understand me. The only one I can let go my royal facade and simply be myself with. That is who you are, and why I want you here.”
“Yes,” agreed Artemis. “We, well... We love you for who you are, Dusk, and for what you've done for us. You are a very special pony. You belong here.” He smiled and kissed Dusk on the cheek.
Solaris wrapped his hooves around Dusk, and Artemis too pressed close to his other side and hugged him. “Dusk is what comes between day and night,” said Solaris with a smile and one arched eyebrow.
“So between us is just where you belong,” said Artemis.
Author's Note
Thanks for reading! The main story is now complete. There is one more (somewhat silly) chapter to follow, which I'll be posting probably tomorrow.
Bonus prequel: The best night ever
Author's Note
This is... much less literary than the previous chapters. Don't take it too seriously. It is also at least somewhat influenced by Snit, my husband's excellent alicorn threesome story. It's actually quite interesting how similar my concepts of what the alicorns are like and how they relate to each other are to his. The only difference is that for some strange reason he seems to prefer writing about them as mares, and I rather like them as stallions. There's really no accounting for taste, is there?
Bonus prequel: The best night ever
“You know the way to my room, Barb,” said Dusk Shine to the smallish dragon that scampered beside him. No longer quite as smallish as she had been, admittedly. Barb had grown a bit over the past few years. But still shorter than Dusk. Of course Dusk had grown too. He'd put on a quite unusual growth spurt only a few years ago, in fact...
“Yep!” chirped Barb cheerfully.
“I might be late. I haven't had a chance to catch up with the Princes in a while.”
“I won't wait up, don't worry.” Barb grinned.
Dusk chuckled. “Oh good.”
He threaded his way through the mostly empty halls of Canterlot Palace, nodding now and then at the guardsponies who seemed to be the only ones still awake. Eventually he arrived at his destination. A touch of magic swung the door silently open and, as he had hoped, the room within was occupied.
It was a library, comfortably furnished and generously lined with bookshelves. It was not, however, the vast, grand, sweeping space of the Canterlot Public Library, nor the slightly more modest Royal Library with its collection of rare and ancient manuscripts. This was a smaller, cozier room, where ordinary novels sat next to encyclopedias, which rubbed shoulders with ancient personal journals on the shelves. It was Solaris' personal library.
Solaris was within it, as Dusk had expected.
He had not, however, expected his one-time mentor to be sprawled on the rug with a mug of cider in his hoof while his brother Artemis stretched out on his back beside him, trying balance en empty mug on his nose.
“Dusk!” Solaris called out cheerful as he stepped hesitantly inside. “Come join us!”
“Uhm. I'm not intruding, am I?”
“No, not at all. We were just reminiscing and enjoying some of this fine cider. Here, have a mug.” He levitated a full, foamy mug towards Dusk, who took it gingerly. He tried to think if he had ever seen Solaris drunk.
Dusk took a sip, just to have something to do while he sorted out his suddenly scattered thoughts. The sip only scattered them further though. “This tastes like Sweet Apple Acres Cider.”
“That,” said Solaris with a slightly wobbly nod, “is because it is.”
“Marvelous stuff,” said Artemis. “Marvelous. Nopony was making anything like this back in my day.”
“Yes indeed. Your friend Applejack is a miracle worker,” nodded Solaris, taking another hearty swig.
“He is. Though speaking of applejack, I wish I'd thought to bring my bottle of it down. A little of that would chase this cider most admirably.”
“Well just teleport it then, brother! Come now, are we not alicorns?”
“We are slightly drunk alicorns,” said Artemis firmly. “And it is very good applejack. I'd rather not risk accidentally putting the bottle through a wall.”
“Oh fine, be that way!” Solaris flopped back onto his back, discarding his now empty mug next to a pile of similar mugs. Dusk also noticed a second stack of empty mugs next to Artemis, and a few still filled standing on a side table nearby.
“You two seem to be, uh, enjoying yourselves,” said Dusk cautiously, taking another, larger, sip. He didn't know what to think. Solaris was usually so composed, so perfectly serene. This was a bit unsettling.
“Ah, my student, my oh so faithful student,” said Solaris, looking up at Dusk cheerfully. “Or I suppose I should say 'my former student.' You are wondering what possessed me to get smashed, when you've never seen me so much as have a sip of cider before, aren't you? Well, it's actually all your fault.” He started laughing suddenly. Dusk looked at him with bewilderment. “Tell him, Artemis.”
Artemis, who seemed a little bit buzzed but not nearly so drunk as Solaris, inclined his head regally. “Oh yes, it is definitely all your fault. But that's a good thing,” he hastily added as Dusk's expression shifted from confusion to dismay. “A very good thing!”
“For a thousand years. A thousand years I haven't had anyone to drink with!”
Artemis chuckled. “I somehow doubt you were dry and sober the entire time, brother.”
“Well... no. But it's not the same. I can't... I just...” he waved his hooves in the air, trying to shape some indescribable concept. “They're not you!” he finally arrived at. “They're leaning on me. They need me. I can't relax around them. The whole damn empire fell apart, the last time I let slip how fallible I actually am. And things come out, when you drink.”
“In vino, veritas ,” intoned Artemis solemnly.
“Yes, damn it all,” said Solaris irately.
Dusk took another swig of his cider, having to repress the urge to revive the old “breathe in, breathe out” trick from his earliest days as Prince. Despite the explanation, Dusk was feeling just a little bit unnerved. He no longer quite thought that Solaris was infallible these days, but this was, perhaps, a bit too far in the other direction.
“I also think you'd forgotten how to relax, brother,” said Artemis gently.
Solaris stared up at the ceiling and sighed. “Probably.” Then he rolled to his feet and smiled beatifically at Artemis and Dusk. “But now it has finally sunk in that my fellow Princes don't need to be sheltered from the fact that I am, in fact, not entirely perfect in every way. And so I am going to have some fun at long last.” He let his gaze wander around the room. “Although I had better start small. Tonight we shall all simply get gloriously drunk together!”
“I see,” said Dusk as he took another swallow of cider. His mind was slowly starting to adjust to this new version of his old mentor.
“Yes. Now what was I... oh, the applejack! We're almost out of cider. And I am fairly tipsy already, but you two both need quite a lot more help along, I think,” said Solaris cheerfully. “So. Applejack sounds delightful.”
“Except that it happens to be in my room. In the tower. And we are here. Not in the tower.”
“We could be in the tower.” Solaris' horn lit, and Dusk and Artemis both yelped “No!” at the same time.
“Uh, Solaris,” said Dusk, a little appalled at needing to say it, “you really shouldn't teleport anything while drunk. Especially not living ponies. Please. 'Don't drink and wink' you know”
“Sorry. You're right. Though that was not a saying, four or five hundred years ago when I got drunk last... But how, then, do we get to the applejack?”
Artemis heaved a long-suffering sigh. “We have hooves. They work perfectly well. If you really are that determined, we are quite capable of walking up to my room.”
“Excellent! Capital! Let us set forth!”
Dusk went to take another swig of the cider, and found it had run out. He set the mug aside, rather wishing there was more of it. Well, there would shortly be apple brandy, apparently. This is going to be a very interesting night , he thought, with a certain amount of trepidation.
By the time they reached Artemis' chambers, Dusk was very glad that most of Canterlot was asleep. None of the guardsponies batted an eye at the trio, even though Solaris spent most of the trip singing slight off-color songs at the top of his lungs. Dusk once more had to admire their composure.
Thankfully the route from the library to Artemis' tower wasn't a long one, and once on the tower steps there was nopony at all to see them.
After climbing far too many flights of stairs they staggered through the doors into Artemis' rooms. Or rather Solaris staggered. Artemis was still mostly walking straight, and Dusk had only had one drink so far.
Dusk had been in Artemis' rooms before, of course. They were friends, after all. Artemis had several excellent telescopes, and his own small but fascinating library, so Dusk had frequently had reason to visit and spend a little time here.
Still, he always had to pause and admire the place each time he entered. There were always small changes in the décor. The general theme was the same, but Artemis constantly acquired and created new bits of art to adorn the comfortably crowded room. Bookshelves, tapestries and paintings warred for wall space. Furniture was wedged in here and there, sharing room with statuary and scientific gadgetry, and yet though it was cluttered it never looked messy. Every bit worked somehow with every other bit.
Artemis now went to an ebony cabinet and opened it to reveal a collection of bottles. He pulled out one filled with deep amber fluid, and followed it with three small crystal glasses. Solaris had sprawled across the entirety of a plushly-upholstered loveseat, while Dusk had seated himself gingerly on a matching couch. Artemis poured a generous measure into all three glasses and floated one in front of each of his guests. He looked quite proud that he managed this without spilling any.
“To Dusk, for a great many things. And to Artemis, for even more, including this wonderful beverage,” said Solaris, and raised his glass in a toast. He downed the contents in nearly a single gulp. Artemis and Dusk both sipped a bit more slowly.
Dusk nearly coughed at the first sip. He wasn't used to anything quite that strong. It was really quite good though, once he got used to the way it burned. He also seemed to be getting used to the drunken Solaris. Of course it probably helped that he was beginning to feel a faint, pleasant humming between his ears. He knew he was something of a lightweight, so a full glass of cider was enough to give him the beginnings of a buzz. Especially now that the applejack was helping it along.
He smiled and drank more. “This is very good.”
“I'm glad you like it.” Artemis smiled warmly at him. He swayed just a little bit. He didn't seem quite as drunk as Solaris, but he was evidently feeling it.
“Fill 'er up again, brother,” said Solaris, floating his empty glass over to Artemis. The glass wobbled quite a bit. Artemis took it in his own magic and poured a somewhat smaller portion of applejack into it.
“You should slow down a bit, and let us catch up,” said Artemis.
“Good idea!” Solaris got to his hooves and went over to Artemis, wobbling slightly. He threw a hoof over his brother's shoulders and hugged him. “Ah I've missed this! It is a delight to just let it all hang out.”
Artemis chuckled and nuzzled his brother. “So it is.”
Dusk felt a little flicker of jealousy go through him as he watched them together. They were so easily affectionate, so physically close. Of course Solaris had hugged him as well, on many an occasion. But there was always a certain reserve in it, on Dusk's part if not on Solaris'. He couldn't let himself get too close, much as he might occasionally daydream about it.
He looked down and noticed that his glass was empty. His head certainly felt like he'd finished it, that hum was stronger now. He got up, feeling a faint waver in the world as he did so. Tipsy, definitely tipsy. But not drunk. Not quite.
“Shall I freshen that for you?” asked Artemis. Dusk hesitated. It was tempting. But... “No thank you.”
“Oh come now, Dusk,” said Solaris gayly. “Our goal tonight is to get gloriously drunk!”
“I don't really like being that drunk. And I don't like the hangovers the next morning either,” said Dusk.
“Ah true, true. I do forget about that. I've never had one.”
Dusk blinked at him. “What, never?”
“Never,” confirmed Artemis. “I haven't either. And we've had some rather... epic benders in the past. We used to think it was simply because we were alicorns, but that theory was disproved quite some time ago. Now, well...” Artemis shrugged. “Perhaps it has something to do with the sun and the moon. We're not sure.”
“Poor Dusk, having to suffer if you're to have any fun,” said Solaris, plopping onto the couch next to Dusk.
“There are other ways of having fun besides getting drunk, my brother dearest,” said Artemis, dropping onto the couch on Dusk's other side. He was suddenly sandwiched between them. He felt his heart jump. A few of his wilder daydreams had started off not unlike this. He suddenly felt that even being a little tipsy might be a bad idea. He would have to be quite careful to not say anything he might regret later.
“Such as?” asked Solaris.
“Oh come now. Good food, enjoying time with friends, hobbies. And tea. I know about you and tea.”
Solaris laughed. “Oh yes. Tea. Tea is definitely a pleasure, and I will admit it doesn't give one a hangover. And it fits my oh so perfect image better than cider does. Still...”
Artemis leaned over and poked Solaris in the ribs, which left him half draped over Dusk. Dusk flushed, trying to hold perfectly still lest he somehow commit some sort of indecency on the alicorn in his lap. “There are more, shall I keep listing them?”
“I know, I know.” Solaris waved a hoof. “But there are so many of them that I miss out on. They take time, or they simply are not possible. Family and children. Hobbies of the sort that can't be fit into a spare hour here or there. Long-term lovers. Many things.”
“Well if it's a lover you need, things could be arranged,” said Artemis, grinning. Though thankfully he also straightened so he was no longer stretched across Dusk's lap.
“Oh no, I'm fine,” said Solaris dismissively. “Entirely fine.”
Artemis heaved a sigh. “If you say so.”
“What about you, hmmm? Any particular flank catch your eye since you've been back?” asked Solaris.
Dusk started to wish he could unobtrusively teleport away somehow. They would quite certainly notice if he suddenly vanished from between them though.
“Ah. Well... Er... No, of course not.”
Solaris snorted. “That was an even worse lie than mine. So who is it?”
“Nopony.”
“Tell, brother.”
Artemis looked over at Dusk, flushed bright red, and clamped his lips together. He shook his head.
Dusk frowned. “Uhm. Should I go so you can talk, or something?”
Solaris peered over at them both. “Ah, so that's the way it is!” he said. “So. Soooooooooooo.”
Dusk blinked at him, suddenly very confused. “Solaris?”
Solaris lurched to his feet. “I know you far too well, Artemis. The only question, then, is what Dusk thinks about it.”
Artemis made as if to get up, his eyes going a bit wild, then suddenly sank back down into the couch. “Solaris... now may not be the best time...”
“If not now, then when? You haven't said a word.”
“It... I... I don't... uh... I'm not very.... I mean other than you there have hardly been any...” Artemis stopped babbling and shifted uneasily.
Dusk went to scoot away from him now that there was more room on the couch, but he found that for some reason Solaris had pinned them both in place with his magic. “Uh... Solaris? What are you two talking about?”
“The fact that Artemis apparently has a thing for you,” said Solaris with a smirk.
Artemis blushed even more brightly. Dusk suddenly went beet red as well. “Oh. Oh. Uhm.”
“So the question is, do you have a thing for Artemis in return?”
“I...” Dusk gulped. He thought again about certain of his fantasies. “I... uh... might...”
“Capital!” Solaris beamed at them. There was something oddly strained in his expression, but Dusk couldn't tell what. Dusk wasn't used to reading him when he was relaxed like this. All the tiny, subtle bits of body language Dusk had grown used to had changed. Still his smile seemed quite genuine.
Then Dusk felt himself gripped once again by Solaris' magic. It was pushing him around to face Artemis, who was similarly being pushed to face him. “There. Now kiss,” said Solaris, still grinning.
Artemis looked at Dusk.
Dusk looked at Artemis.
Neither was sure who had moved first, but suddenly they were wrapped in each other's arms, kissing deeply, with all the fervor of long-repressed passion.
Solaris smiled at them still, but now that they weren't looking at him it was a somewhat sadder smile. “Delightful,” he said softly. “I'll just go then.” He turned and headed for the door.
He opened it, but it immediately shut in his face. “Oh no you don't,” said Artemis. He was panting just a bit, as was Dusk, but his eyes were fixed on Solaris. “You don't get out of this so easily. I know you too, brother. I told you who had captured my attention. But you haven't told me yet who has captured yours.”
Solaris shook his head. “It doesn't matter.”
“It does,” said Artemis.
“Some things aren't possible...”
“Nonsense. Now tell.”
Solaris' eyes flicked to Dusk, then away. That was all Artemis needed. And Dusk too picked up on the subtle signal this time. He felt his mouth going dry. Solaris? And him? That was the other half of those daydreams he'd tried so hard to put out of his mind. His gaze flipped rapidly from one alicorn to the other.
“I see,” said Artemis. “Well. You and Dusk have a history that goes back much further than any small affections I may have. I shall...” He started to rise, but Solaris' magic shoved him back down onto the couch.
“You and he will be happy together,” said Solaris. “You deserve to be happy together.”
“And you don't?” countered Artemis. “You were just saying how you earned tonight's little vacation. You've more than earned a chance at happiness, brother. Please.”
“No, I can't. You...”
“I have never needed other ponies quite like you, brother,” interrupted Artemis.
“I have plenty of friends, Artemis. I'll hardly pine away.”
“Yes but...”
“You know,” said Dusk, sounding more than a little annoyed, “You could try asking me about this.”
Both alicorns fell silent and looked at him, chagrined.
“I'm sorry Dusk,” said Solaris. “What... what do you want?”
Dusk blushed even more brightly. “I... well...” He looked between them again. He knew what he wanted. But how could he say it? If he didn't, though, he would be forced to chose between them, and whichever one he chose, it would hurt the other one. However much they'd both instantly tried to fob him off on the other, he was sure that they both did care for him. As stunning, amazing, and impossible as that was. Part of his brain didn't believe it. But his logical mind knew that neither one could have been lying. Neither was the sort of pony who could lie about something like that. So. They both wanted him.
And he wanted both of them. The only other options were to lie, and hurt one of them, or say nothing and let them fight it out in a ridiculous battle to see who could martyr himself for the sake of the other.
So finally, feeling that he could not possibly blush any redder, but unable to take any other option, he blurted, “I want you both.”
Two pairs of eyes, one warm lavender, one cool turquoise, blinked at him in surprise. Then two nearly identical grins followed. “Really?” said Artemis, with the tone of a child offered the key to a candy shop, filled with longing and possible wonder, but also not quite certain that such a thing could be true.
“Really.”
“Well then,” said Solaris, and he too sounded full of sudden wonder. “Well then...” He dropped back down onto the couch, and pulled Dusk's head around with a gentle hoof. Then he kissed Dusk with a passion that easily matched Artemis'.
It was everything that Dusk had ever dreamed it could be. He had wanted this moment so many times over the years. At first it had been nothing more than a childhood infatuation with his teacher, but the more he matured, and the more he came to know Solaris, the more he wanted to be with him. Infatuation had combined with admiration and understanding to form a hopeless love. For how could the eternal, immortal Envoy of the Sun, the god who had ruled for all of recorded history, ever want to be with him? He'd occasionally had the thought, over the last few years, that perhaps he stood more of a chance, now that he was an alicorn too. But he wasn't going to delude himself into thinking that he could possibly be Solaris' peer.
Yet this very night Solaris had more or less said he was. And now... now Dusk had all that he had ever dreamed of.
All of it, including that thing reserved only for his most wild and improbable fantasies, for even as Solaris kissed him deeply, Artemis wrapped his hooves around him and began to nuzzle the back of his neck.
Artemis too had been the subject of many a fond daydream. But he too was a god, and thus Dusk had never dared to confess how he felt until tonight. Even dreaming of them had seemed presumptuous. Sacrilegious, even. It hadn't stopped him though.
Solaris broke off the kiss to slide his muzzle against Dusk's cheek. His head tipped as he did so and his horn brushed against Dusk's, which wrung a soft, startled gasp from the young alicorn. He had not expected that. He'd never been with a unicorn—or alicorn, his distracted brain interjected—so he hadn't expected the intense thrill that went through him as Solaris' unshielded horn met his own. Solaris began to run his horn slowly up and down Dusk's. Dusk moaned softly.
Artemis nibbled gently at the back of Dusk's neck while his hooves wandered over Dusk's body. One of them dipped a little lower and Dusk gasped again. “Oh Solaris,” he said without thinking.
Solaris chuckled. “Yes?” Dusk let out a short, breathless laugh that was immediately interrupted by another moan as Artemis's hoof started to do very interesting and distracting things.
After a few extremely pleasant moments Artemis paused what he was doing and said, “Why don't we move this party to the bed?”
“Capital notion,” said Solaris, and Dusk nodded his enthusiastic assent.
When they had piled into Artemis' large, luxurious, canopied bed Dusk found himself still in the middle. With Solaris' large white form pressed against him one side and Artemis' only slightly smaller body on the other he felt a mixture of heart-pounding elation and stomach-knotting trepidation. He had wanted them both. Now it seemed that they both had him . What were they going to do with him? His rather meager experience with other ponies flashed through his mind. He'd never been with a unicorn before. He'd certainly never been with an alicorn. And he'd most certainly never been with two immortal alicorn gods before. What was he even going to do?!
A shining white hoof reached out from one side and smoothed down the wayward strands of mane that had begun curling, as they always did when Dusk started to work himself up into a state.
A midnight dark hoof from the other side caressed his cheek lovingly. Dusk relaxed a little. These two knew him. They had never before demanded anything of him that he couldn't give.
So when Artemis urged him to turn towards him Dusk responded willingly; his muzzle met the dark alicorn's with ready eagerness. And when Solaris pressed against him from behind and he could feel that his former mentor had not been lying about wanting him, his heart jumped with a bliss both mental and physical at once. He knew then that he'd done the right thing by telling them how he felt.
“I think,” said Solaris, wicked amusement in his voice as he spoke softly in Dusk's ear, “that tonight is going to be a very good night.”
Atremis broke off the kiss, and his somewhat breathless voice was just as amused. “I think you're right.”
“It's going to be the best night ever,” said Dusk in fervent agreement.
