Sweeten Every Life With a Precious and Fragrant Drop of Levity
Deep shadow surrounded the small bed, kept at bay only by the small lamp on the nightstand beside it. A massive, youthful-faced stallion sat on the other side of the bed, his green head resting on the lap of the old mare who laid covered by mauve blankets. His draconic wings were stretched out, providing additional warmth to his companion as he slept.
The old unicorn in bed stroked his forest green mane with her rosy hoof. Various medications flowed into her veins from the IV drips in her arm, and the EKG machine beeped in time with her heartbeat. Below the locks of her lime green bangs, her mouth stretched into a smile full of all the kindness of her late adopted mother, folding the skin at the corners of her mouth in well-worn creases.
“I was wondering when you’d visit,” she said, her voice raspy, but still full of the gentle sweetness she’d possessed all her life.
A pair of golden eyes burned in the blackness that surrounded the two ponies, and a large mare with fur only shades lighter than the shadows melted into the dim bubble of light. Her prominent horn and bat wings marked her as an alicorn of unique parentage, as did the long, blue mane which transitioned to starry magic at its ends. She stared down at the bedridden mare and the draconic stallion in silent contemplation, conflicting emotions warring plainly on her face.
“Nidra at a loss for words?” the wizened unicorn said with a soft giggle. “Well, now I really have lived to see everything,” she continued, swiping her mane out of her eyes. “Well, not so much as ‘see’ as ‘witness’.” White orbs stared into space with only the barest hint of the vivid blue they had once been.
“Anthea,” Nidra began, but caught her breath, looking away with a crease to her brow. “Annie… I wished to see you sooner, but…”
Anthea smiled wistfully. “I know the life of a princess is busy. It’s a shame, really. You’re a whole year older than me, but without the wrinkles to back it up, they don’t cut you much slack, do they?”
“Indeed not,” Nidra confirmed with a smirk.
Anthea sighed contentedly. “Well, I’m just glad you came around when you did.” With a smile, she seemed to focus on something else, as if she were truly seeing something on the backs of her opaque lenses.
"I'm so glad you could come," Anthea said with a bright smile. She still seemed to be glowing even two weeks past her wedding night, and her enthusiasm was catching.
Nidra, who sat opposite her at the dining table levitating a cup of steaming tea in her magical aura, smiled crookedly. "Ah... yes, I am sure our visit will be most eventful."
Anthea bit her lower lip as she grinned at her guest. "It gets a bit lonely when T is gone, so I'm really grateful for the company."
Nidra cocked her head. "I was to understand he only works a half day at his sister's, from what Illusion relates."
"Oh, yes..." Anthea said with a brief frown. "Four hours of... of cruel and unusual punishment!"
"I... see," Nidra said with a flat voice.
"I suppose that makes one of us," Anthea replied offhoofedly. "I never realized how much I'd miss him after we got married, though. I don't think I ever felt this bad when we were apart before."
Nidra sipped her tea and made an appreciative noise as it made its warm, soothing way down her throat, but inside she felt it coming to a boil. "I suppose I should count myself fortunate then," she said, her voice pitched to a petulant whine. Her next words came out in a low, husky breath that broke with bitterness. "I already miss him every moment we're apart..." She gasped and put a hoof over her mouth as she realized how blatant she'd just been, and she glanced up at Anthea in anticipation of her reaction.
Sympathy was not what Nidra had expected, but it's what she saw in Anthea's flushed face and shimmering eyes. "I'm being rude, aren't I? I'm so sorry, I know I shouldn't complain when I've been so lucky."
"No, no," Nidra said, waving her hooves in front of her. She heaved a sigh. “This isn’t going how I’d hoped.”
Anthea simpered bashfully. "I guess this isn't going to be as easy as I thought." She scratched her chin as she idly swirled her tea around her cup. "Oh," Anthea said as an idea struck. "How about this: describe T to me."
"Wh-what?" Nidra said, jerking her head back as if she had been slapped. She leaned back in, eyes narrowed. "Why would you want me to do a thing like that?"
After taking a long sip from her cup, Anthea finally answered. "It's just something I like to ask ponies. To break the ice, I guess. It's even how T and I first became friends. And you're one of his friends. You... you obviously like him... a lot. I just wondered what you see."
"He's hot," Nidra said automatically. She demurred immediately upon seeing Anthea's mouth fall open in a small "o". "I... I mean... when I first saw him..." Her gray cheeks darkened.
"I noticed his wings first." She ruffled her own bat-like limbs that clung to her sides. "I am... a singular individual, Anthea, if not as much so as Illusion or his father. There are few bat-ponies outside my mother's small contingent of guards who come to the surface, and I'm the only one with a horn and earth pony strength. Seeing a young stallion with those wings—with such a prodigious span—and then seeing the scales and claw-like hooves that made him and his sister so unique, of course I would take note."
Her expression softened, and though unseeable by her companion, her tone carried the emotions behind it perfectly. "It's not just his outside appearance that made me want to be his... good friend, though. He is polite and chivalrous, but not so pompous as the common knight or royal." She left the additional "like myself" unsaid. "He is often charmingly befuddled, and also thoughtful in ways I can scarcely comprehend. Even though he did not want to be... as good a friend with me as I did with him, he always made me feel both important and like a common pony at the same time."
Anthea poured herself another cup of tea as she stared into space with a slight grin gracing her lips. "It's like he sometimes forgets you're supposed to be treated like some untouchable goddess on a pedestal. To him, you're just an amazing pony because of what you do and say and think, and not because of what you were born as."
"Oh, yes," Nidra said. "That's it, exactly! You can't imagine how..." She trailed off as she noticed Anthea's amused expression.
"Actually," Anthea said airily. "I think I can."
Nidra stared at her cup, pensive as she felt a subtle shift in the atmosphere that she couldn't quite explain. Her ear twitched when she glanced back up at Anthea, who was still sitting there across from her gazing impassively into nothing. She chuckled.
"Yes," Nidra conceded. "I suppose you can. Isn't he annoying?"
Anthea tittered, hiding her mouth with a modest hoof. "He can be a bit dense."
"I'll say," Nidra said with a dramatic huff. "Did you know I was his very first girlfriend?"
"Oh?" Anthea asked curiously.
"I don't think he knows to this day," Nidra explained.
Now Anthea was chortling loudly, slapping her knee with amusement. "You know we were going out for two years before he asked me to be his special somepony?" she said.
Nidra snorted. "How could anypony not know they were... wait." She paused, screwing up her eyes. "Were... were we ever going out?"
Anthea's face went blank. "... I don't think so."
The silence was eerily suggestive. "Did you want to?" Nidra asked with a cocked eyebrow.
"No!" Anthea insisted, flushing a bright red, an embarrassed smile on her face. Her grin turned into a suggestive smirk. "Why, did you?"
Nidra froze, her whole body slowly forming a blush. "N-no, whatever would give you that idea?"
They stared at each other awkwardly for a long moment. Raucous guffaws burst from them, Nidra falling to her back with legs flagellating in the air as Anthea pounded on the table, knocking her cup of tea to the floor. Their merry-making lasted until Turquoise returned from his day with Crystal Clarity, at which time he was disturbed to find neither his wife nor the princess were able to look at him without renewing their hysterics.
“Anthea,” Nidra prompted her bedridden friend. When she saw Anthea rouse from her ruminations, she disconcertedly expelled full lungs of air through her nostrils. “You weren’t paying attention to me.”
Anthea tittered weakly into her hoof before turning her face back in Nidra’s general direction. “I’m sorry, sometimes I get a bit distrait in my senescence.”
Nidra hesitated, her brows knit in momentary disorientation. Finally, she rolled her eyes. “I sometimes regret your tutelage under my esteemed cousin, Twilight. I’m afraid her sesquipedalian loquaciousness has rapaciously rubbed off on you.”
Abject innocence radiated from Anthea. “Oh, I didn’t think it would bother you.”
“Well,” Nidra said with a smirk. “I suppose—knowing the mare who raised me—that conclusion is understandable.”
Anthea chuckled while absently playing with Turquoise’s mane again. “Nidra. Now that you’re here, perhaps you could do me a favor?”
“A favor,” Nidra echoes flatly.
“More like… a promise,” Anthea replied.
Nidra shuffled her hooves. “What kind of promise are we talking about?”
An enigmatic expression clouded Anthea’s face as she rested her hoof on her husband’s forehead. “Nothing new, really.” Her unseeing eyes sought out Nidra’s face, though she could no longer discern her form. “Just… the same thing you’ve always done…”
“Spiders!” Anthea screamed as Nidra continued firing blast after blast. “Why did it have to be spiders!?”
What remained of the altar of Dibella was crushed under falling rocks as puncture wounds sprung up from all directions, each one bleeding a flood of black spider colonies. The tea-colored cavern walls were now like gyrating shadows, sprinkled with a flowing stream of horrid red little eyes and wet mandibles and scuttling legs. A cacophony not unlike rusted nails scratching upon thousands of miniature chalkboards drowned out Anthea’s shrieks of terror, an encroaching threat of icky-gross-get-them-off-me demise.
Finding her attacks to be ineffectual, Nidra closed her eyes and used all her magical strength to erect a barrier, keeping the ocean of insectoid hellspawn temporarily at bay.
“Stop screaming!” Nidra commanded. Anthea promptly snapped her jaw shut. “You can speak to animals, can you not? Tell them to leave us be!”
“I deal with flora, not fauna!” Anthea cried. “I mean, Mom taught me how to deal with animals in general, but I always avoided learning about spiders!”
“What? Why!?”
“Because they’re gross!”
Time seemed to freeze as silence detonated throughout the cavern. At once, millions of itty bitty red eyes narrowed.
“Wh-what’s going on?” Anthea said, voice unusually loud from the deathly silence.
Nidra took an involuntary step back. “I think you may have... offended them.”
As if in support of Nidra’s supposition, the creatures began to converge upon each other and soon enormous blobs of organic matter formed from the oozing swarm, like putrid bubbles escaping a foul swamp. Before the princess’ eyes, millions of bite-sized spiders coalesced into giant, eight-legged arachnid abominations that would surely haunt her waking nightmares for the better part of the week.
“Nidra,” Anthea whispered, as if sharing a haunting secret. “I feel like we’re in trouble.”
Not three seconds after Anthea’s prophetic words, the now gigantic spiders shrieked—Anthea screamed along—and rammed their appendages against the magical barrier, which began to crack and splinter under the force of the barrage.
“We must move!” Nidra declared, urging Anthea to flee towards the nearest opening with a winged-shove just before the barrier completely collapsed. Anthea continued her screaming, but hauled hoof in a desperate gallop that would’ve undoubtedly impressed her mother.
Positioned behind Anthea, Nidra was thus a prime target for one of the spiders to latch a burst of their webbing onto, entangling her wings in a mess of sticky silk before the alicorn princess power-wrenched herself free.
The two wormed through tunnel after tunnel, each of them taking turns erecting blockades in the hope of stifling the imminent threat of death-by-spiders, but the little horrors managed to squeeze past each attempt through the smallest openings.
Annie pulled Nidra down a side corridor. "I hear rushing water," she explained. "That means an exit."
"Good thinking," Nidra said with a relieved smile. "How far away do you think it—"
The floor dropped out from under them, and they found themselves being washed down a narrow tube, the steep decline and cascading water propelling them down.
"Nidra, where are you?" Annie called, sputtering as water sloshed into her mouth. "Please, I can't... I can't see!"
Nidra struggled toward the sound of Anthea's screaming and choking until her hooves found a soft, wet coat. "Annie, I'm here." She wrapped her arms around her friend and held her tightly. "I'm here for you.”
Anthea buried her face in Nidra’s chest as they bobbed in the waters of the black tube. “I’m… I’m scared.”
“I won’t let anything hurt you,” Nidra declared.
“Promise?” Anthea asked weakly.
Nidra was about to respond when the light of day shone on their faces and they found themselves forcefully ejected into the blue sky. Nidra held on to her friend despite the shock and shouted over the loud screams. "Candy, Candy cow-bell, whoever tells a lie…”
“W-will sit down to think a spell,” Anthea quoted along. “And will get no piece of pie."
“There, you see?” Nidra said cheerily, even as she strained her wings against the webs that held them fast as they plummeted. “Nopony breaks a Candy Vow.”
Anthea smiled at Nidra gratefully as her pale blue eyes teared up, whether from the fall or true emotion. Then, a shadow passed over them and she gasped. The sound of powerful wing beats filled the air, and moments later, the two found their barrels gently lifted by a warm, solid back. “T!”
Turquoise flashed a razorsharp grin as he looked back over his shoulder. “Hello, ladies. Thought you could use a lift.”
“Your intuition was correct,” Nidra responded with a fond mien.
“Oh, thank Celestia,” Anthea breathed as she hugged her husband’s rear end. “I was so scared, I thought I might have a miscarriage.”
“Haha,” Turquoise chuckled, his eyebrows pinching together bemusedly as he watched his wife give his tail a big, wet kiss. “What are you talking about?”
“This may not be the best time,” Anthea said. “But… T, you’re going to be a daddy.”
Turquoise grimaced, shaking his head. “What… what does that even mean? Is that Prench or something?”
“T, she’s pregnant,” Nidra clarified gruffly, smacking him on the back of the head.
Turquoise made a sound not unlike a gazelle being strangled and his wings froze in the downstroke as his mind finally wrapped itself around the new information.
Anthea and Nidra both screamed as they experienced a sudden drop in altitude. Fortunately, the sound of their terrified protests snapped Turquoise out of his near comatose state just in time for him to beat his wings furiously and come to a semi-graceful landing.
"T, you dummy," Nidra gasped as she threw herself on the beautiful ground. "You do not endanger your princess' life in such a manner." She snapped her head toward him with fire in her eyes. "And especially not with your pregnant wife on board!"
Turquoise cringed and glanced at his shivering wife. "Sorry. At least we got you out of that temple, though."
"Indeed," Nidra said, rising to her hooves in as dignified a manner as one can after having made time with the earth. "I would very much like to clean myself of this sticky mess trapping my wings now that we are free."
Flexing his clawed hooves, Turquoise approached Nidra. "I can help with the stuck wings," he said. He ran his sharpened digits along Nidra's sides as he stood on his hind legs behind her, eliciting a deep blush from Nidra. He severed the threads binding her wings to her body, and she flexed them experimentally. "There," he said as he withdrew. "Though we might want to wait for Claire or Father to get here to—"
"Uh, guys?" Anthea interjected. "It got kind of dim all of a sudden... and I hear buzzing. Should... should we be concerned?"
Nidra looked to the sky, squinting at the distant cluster of dark specks that enlarged with each passing moment. Soon, her eyes boggled. “By Uncle Discord’s uneven backside, they can fly!?”
Indeed, somehow the giant spiders managed to defy phylogeny by sprouting large, colorful wings like those of a butterfly. They sailed down, circling like vultures around the three before landing in a circular formation around them. The largest spider dropped inside the circle right in front of their prey, snapping its mandibles menacingly.
Turquoise stepped in front of the two mares and bared his dragon teeth as he spread his wings in a threatening display. “You’re not going to harm one hair on these ponies’ manes, you eight-legged monster.”
“Oh, my,” Anthea gasped. She hooked her pastern around Nidra’s forearm and leaned in. “Does… does T look really cool right now?”
Nidra considered the lashing tail, the massive wingspan, and the rippling muscles of the dragon-stallion before them as he stood between them and certain squirmy death. “My wings?”
“Uh,” Anthea said hesitantly. “Yeah?”
Nidra narrowed her eyes in determination. “Rock hard!”
“Just imagining it is making me concupiscent,” Anthea said with an excited shudder. “Thanks, Nidra.”
“I’m happy to share,” Nidra responded with a curt nod. “Now, let us not allow our dashing knight have all the fu—what does that word even mean?”
Anthea ignored Nidra’s impromptu outburst, bounding to her husband’s side with her horn alight and ready for action. Nidra grudgingly joined the two, crouching in a feral stance that spoke of impending violence.
Just as the three ponies and the arachnid gang were about to clash, two tons of draconic, paternal fury dropped from the sky like a purple-green thunder bolt.
“Father!” Turquoise exclaimed with a relieved smile, which was quickly mirrored by the two mares behind him.
Spike stared down at the colony of giant-winged spiders, his flaring nostrils spewing fire with each breath he took.
The spider at the forefront, the presumed ringleader, blinked its many eyes at the towering dragon, whose darkening expression caused many of its compatriots at the back to begin shuffling on the spot like nervous schoolcolts afraid of getting the riding crop.
“You attacked my son, my daughter-in-law, and a good family friend,” Spike growled, his voice heavy like a warhammer. “I don’t like things that do that.”
The ringleader seemed to be reconsidering its life choices, but one look behind at its brethren, which were making noncommittal encouraging scuttling motions, bolstered its bravado and it took a brazen step forwards.
In response, Spike blasted a gout of green flame at the sky, and soon a gigantic, golden trident landed in his claws. “I haven’t used this in years, so I might be a bit rusty right now…” He grinned maliciously, rows of razor sharp teeth glistening off his weapon. “But hey, making shish kebab sounds like the perfect warm-up.”
The ringleader closed its eyes and prayed to Arachne for a quick death.
But then its brethren sidled up, their hairy appendages interlocked in solidarity as they formed a barrier around it. The ringleader looked to its fellows with gratitude in its shimmering eyes. The other spiders gave what could have been interpreted as a thumbs-up, quite the feat for animals lacking digits.
Spike blinked, staring at the unusual display of arachnidship. “Wow. I didn’t expect you guys to stand up for one another. Friendship certainly shows up in unexpected ways, doesn’t it?”
The spiders nodded at each other in proud camaraderie.
Spike scratched his chin. “I’ll be honest, I predicted most of you to have scuttled away by now. As it stands, your numbers present a distinct advantage in your favor.”
The spiders poised their mandibles in a sort of perversion of haughty sneers as they readied themselves to pounce.
Then, Spike smirked once more. “Too bad for you, my friends are bigger,” he remarked and snapped his claw.
From the surrounding dense foliage, the avian populace scattered to the skies in alarm as the sounds of churning steel and fire barreled through, and soon a colossal, mechanical beast of doom and sugary marmalade came roaring forth.
“Weeee!” Pinkie and her daughter, Candy, cheered as they began loading the main turret with what looked like sharpened candy canes and jaw breakers. Candy's younger pegasus sister, Cloudy Skies, flew above with binoculars and a compass, shouting directions to her unicorn twin sister, Sugar Rush, who magically manipulated the cannon.
Spike pointed his trident at the gaping, terrified swarm and uttered the words that sent the creatures into a retreating frenzy: “Sugarcoat 'em."
As delicious discharge turned the battlefield into a sweet Tartarus, Anthea, Nidra, and Turquoise turned to each other and laughed.
“What need is there for me to promise anything, then?” Nidra asked stiffly, averting her gaze from Anthea’s small form. “I will simply continue to do as I have done.”
Anthea sighed. “Well… it’s not just for me, you know.”
Nidra huffed and her wings rustled gently. “Don’t talk like that, Annie. It’s not that serious. You’ll be back tending your garden in no time at all.”
“Oh, I haven’t been able to tend to my garden properly in years,” Anthea said dismissively. “Even with my magic I can hardly grow more than… well, weeds at this point.”
Nidra winced. “Well… at least you have T to help you. Or… or your children.”
Anthea hummed thoughtfully. “Well, now. I can’t occupy T’s time doing my hobbies, can I? And my children… well… they have complicated lives, themselves.” Her face pinched. “As old as they are, now, I still worry about them.”
“What would you have me do?” Nidra asked, her mouth puckered sullenly. “They are adults. Would they accept me as your replacement so easily?”
Anthea laughed hoarsely. “Oh, Nidra… I would never ask you to do such a thing. You don’t have to replace me. You’ve been part of the family since… since the very beginning.”
"Oh, I do hope everything is going to be alright," Crystal Clarity said with a worried pinch of her violet brows. Her clawed hooves were beginning to carve grooves in the hospital waiting room.
"Oh, relax, everything'll be just fine," Spike said as he reclined lazily in one of the many wooden chairs which creaked threateningly under his weight.
"Darling," Rarity said sharply to her husband. "If you'll recall, it was your actions during the birth of Claire," she nodded toward Crystal Clarity, "and T that caused the hospital to enact the policy barring those spouses with dragon heritage from the maternity suite."
"Um," Spike said, faltering slightly. "Yeah. I guess I might’ve tried to set a doctor or two on fire. Well... sorry about that, son." He turned to Turquoise apologetically.
Turquoise struggled furiously against the tight strait jacket and chains as he growled through the ball gag at his father.
"Really!" Rarity declared with a roll of her eyes. "My boys are so melodramatic." She looked around the room shiftily as all went silent and fixed their flat stares on her. "What?"
Nidra giggled at her friends' family's antics as she watched from a few chairs down. Her head jerked up eagerly when she heard the door to Anthea's room open and saw Fluttershy trot out, a huge smile on her face.
"It's a cutie!" Fluttershy declared.
The assembled family and friends erupted into happy chatter as they began to crowd toward the door. Nidra nervously followed suit, grateful that they had managed to find a large room that could fit all of their friends that could make it comfortably.
Forgotten outside, Turquoise screamed fruitlessly as he gnawed on the ball gag.
Anthea looked weak and exhausted, but swelled with happiness as she cradled her freshly cleaned foal. She proudly offered the baby for her family to hold, and they cooed and fawned over it.
"How absolutely adorable," Crystal said, poking the foal's cheek as she held it in her arm. "You wuv yo’ auntie Cwaire, don't you, baby?"
"Almost makes you want to settle down and get married yourself, doesn't it, dear?" Rarity commented.
"Ah, ha," Crystal laughed awkwardly. "I can assure you, as much as I adore my sweet boyfriend, I am never getting married. I’m not that kind of gal."
Rarity gave a long suffering sigh. "Of course."
"Nidra?" Anthea's soft voice pierced through the throng to her friend watching from the corner. "Nidra, come over and hold the foal."
“I’m fine over here,” Nidra said, her back flat against the wall like a splayed spider-monkey.
Anthea smiled. “Don’t be silly, I can tell that you’re eager to see the baby.”
Nidra shrunk slightly as all eyes turned to her. "But... But it's so... tiny,” she whined. “What if I break it?"
Anthea giggled. "I think you'll do fine. Come on."
Walking across the room to where Crystal was holding the foal, Nidra eyed the baby warily. She slowly extended her arms and gingerly accepted the bundle. She looked down into the barely conscious face of Anthea's foal and she swore that she could feel her heart literally melting in her chest. "Oh..."
Turquoise chose that moment to push his way into the room, having just recently been released from his “personal protective equipment.” He was treated to what was perhaps the most bizarre scene that he had ever witnessed up until that point, and that included the time he walked in on his parents in a giant bowl of ice cream.
He generally knew what to expect out of Princess Nidra. She was imperious, demanding, spoiled, dramatic, and very conscious of her own fabulosity, not unlike his own mother. To see her dutifully hold his foal out of politeness, or perhaps even dramatically gush over it would have been completely within the realm of his kenning. Seeing Nidra and his wife joining forces to make silly faces and rude noises topped only, perhaps, by Pinkie Pie and her daughters?
“Priceless.”
“You say that,” Nidra rejoined. “But what can I do that you could not do better?”
Anthea sighed, rolling her unseeing eyes. “Oh, Nidra. Your insecurity is cute, but really not suited a mare of your age.”
“It’s hardly insecurity,” Nidra insisted. “It’s a statement of fact. When it comes to your family, I know that I cannot do whatever it is you will ask half as well as you. That’s why…”
“What?” Anthea prompted when Nidra trailed off. “You want me to live another hundred years for you? I’m tired, Nidra. So very tired. I’m not like old Granny Smith, too stubborn to go to my final sleep.”
Nidra hesitated. “It… it is I who decides who sleeps and who remains awake…”
“And that’s something you can certainly do better than I can,” Anthea said. “So there you have it. Don’t put yourself down so.”
Louring obstinately at her friend, Nidra spoke in a low tone. “Even then, you have proven my better when it comes to your own family, Annie.”
The dark, bat-winged form slunk across the bedroom, moving as stealthily as a creeping spider. “‘Twas then, when the fair wine-coated pegasus deduced that the capricious nature of her variegate-maned paramour with the aye wounded muzzle would not allow him to wield the powers of his forebear that all of Manedeep went deathly silent.”
Two foals huddled under the thick blankets, one shivering with fear as the tension mounted while the other peaked out furtively, excitement shimmering in half hidden eyes.
“One by one the Fellowship of the Elements disappeared like phantoms as they traveled through the dismal abandoned quarry, full of shapes jagged and terrifying,” Nidra continued, cackling softly as her form passed through the shaft of moonlight cutting through the deep dark before slinking into the shadows again. “Those remaining were unable to discern the truth of their friends’ sudden vanishment.” Something blocked out the window, plunging the room into total darkness. “Soon, there were only two ponies left: the selfless and verdant stallion of draconic heritage and his beauteous and droll rosy coated damsel…”
“And then!” Nidra crowed, leaping onto the bed to the screams of its occupants as a flashlight beneath her face lit it into a grotesque caricature of equinity. “The entirety of the keep shuddered with howls and wails before coming to a trembling halt! It was as if a million pony voices cried out in terror, and were suddenly silenced...”
“B-by pudding!” Anthea interjected, flicking the switch on and flooding the room with bright light. “They got their favorite dessert after dinner and there was a sparkling rainbow and everypony was happy.”
Nidra’s face reddened as she looked over at the newly arrived Anthea setting a saddlebag full of groceries down on the floor and worriedly approaching her. She elegantly hopped off the bed and cleared her throat. “A-Annie!” she said. “I was, uh… merely attempting to put your children to sleep with a bedtime story…”
“A-a scary bedtime story,” a tiny voice squeaked from under the covers.
A pair of eager eyes looked up at Anthea with a gleam. “It was epic, Mommy,” the other voice whispered.
“I’m sure,” Anthea said, shooting a cross look at Nidra, who shrugged sheepishly. “The fact that you could have easily put them to sleep with magic notwithstanding, perhaps a less stimulating story would be for the best.”
Nidra scoffed and kicked at the ground petulantly with a hoof. “That doesn’t sound much like ‘the fun’.”
Anthea giggled to herself at her friend’s chagrin as she began to tuck her little foals into bed properly. “Now, how about a nice, relaxing story?” Their broad smiles and bright eyes told her that they were quite receptive to the prospect. “Alright, then… Once upon a time, there was a sweet, yellow pegasus who cared for all the animals of the Everfree Forest. One day, she was surprised to find a letter inviting her to meet some of the rarest creatures in Equestria, fairy ponies called ‘Breezies’...”
Nidra sighed as she leaned against the door jam, listening to her friend recite the ponytale with a smile.
“Oh, fooey,” Anthea said with a laugh. “I don't think you do yourself enough credit at all."
"I'm not the same spoiled princess I was in our youth," Nidra said plainly. "I recognize my better when I see her."
Anthea sighed dramatically. "Oh, you're just too much. You shouldn't even be comparing yourself to me. It makes me self conscious, for one."
Nidra smirked and leaned against the bed, propping herself up on her elbows. She idly flicked a lock of hair that spilled over Turquoise's forehead and her eyes turned foggy. "How can that be? You were the pony who won out when we were compared, in the end."
Shooting Nidra a frustrated glare, Anthea crossed her arms. "He loves me, I know. But do you really think he doesn't have feelings for you?"
A short laugh escaped from Nidra's mouth. "Hardly."
"I'm an old mare, Nidra," Anthea said softly. "And honestly not that attractive anymore."
"No, you still look—"
"Like an old nag," Anthea finished flatly. "Don't think I can be fooled because I'm blind. And don't take it the wrong way, either. I don't think T particularly cares about it. Still... he has the body of a colt. And you have those supple, childbearing hips of yours..."
"For a blind mare," Nidra said accusingly, though good humor sparkled in her eyes. "You do go on."
Anthea waggled her ears with a grin. "I hear things. Like the creak in T's neck whenever you walk by, shaking that lethal weapon."
"It may have caused a heart attack or two," Nidra said conspiratorially, giggling into her hoof.
"Really, though," Anthea said. "You sell yourself short. In the right circumstances, I think T would have definitely..."
“Ladies and gentlecolts,” Nidra addressed the crowd. As she levitated her wine flute into the air, the edges of her normally blue mane and tail darkened to the color of the night sky and starlike sparks of magic twinkled within. “My dear cousin, Prince Illusion, has been more like an older brother to me. There are few others who can truly comprehend how utterly shocking it was to hear that he was to be wed, and to such a fine and genteel mare as Lady Clarity, no less.” She gave the blushing bride a smirk. “Yes, utterly shocking that it took this long for her to ask him.”
Laughter boiled through the crowd as she concluded her toast and set the glass down, her mane and tail going back to normal as she released her magic. A loud stomp on the table diverted the attentions of every creature in attendance to a large green stallion on the other side of the couple. His virescent mane was slicked back, glistening with a thick coat of grease. He was clad not in the customary tuxedo, but in a black jacket made of saddle fabric, which was quite popular among much younger stallions. He was also wearing dark sunglasses, though the dim light of evening made such apparel quite unnecessary.
“Rockin’ speech, shorty,” he said, addressing Princess Nidra with a smarmy grin. “Yeah, my sister went and took the plunge, ladies and gentlecolts. Good for her, too.” He laughed, giving the crowd a good look at his deadly fangs.
“Oh, sweet Celestia, no,” Crystal Clarity groaned, covering her face with her clawed hooves. Her mother was also grimacing and trying to vainly pantomime to her son to shut up and sit down. Spike looked at his son as if the dragon-pony had just declared eternal love to jockstraps.
Turquoise continued his speech. “It’s gonna be great for the first few years, too, don’t get me wrong! But, y’know, life is gonna sneak up on you and pretty soon you’re gonna look at Lulu over there,” he gestured to Illusion, who scowled at his use of the diminutive. “And he’s gonna be wrapped up in his work and hobbies and he’ll join some galloping group ‘cause he’ll think his flanks are getting too fat even though they look just great!”
Illusion quirked an eyebrow as he looked at Crystal. She responded with a nonplussed shrug.
“And you’re going to start working more just so you don’t have to feel awkward being alone in the house with somepony you don’t even know anymore,” Turquoise said, sloshing his wine on his hoof-claws. “I mean, once the kids are all grown up, what are you really going to have in common, huh?”
“Ah, ha,” Crystal laughed awkwardly. “I can assure you, as much as I adore my sweet husband, I am never having foals. I’m not that kind of gal.”
“Well, anyway,” Turquoise said after a moment. “I hope your married life is better than some ponies’...” He lifted his glass, to which the other assembled ponies responded tentatively.
Once the toast was finished, Spike rubbed at his temple while Rarity sprang up to her hooves and trotted regally behind her son, catching his ear in her magic and dragging him out of view. His pained protests were quickly silenced by Rarity’s piercing voice delivering an unintelligible scolding. The guests waited politely for the noise coming from the back to die down before continuing the toasts.
Nidra excused herself from the table as the band began to play, ushering the reception into its dance portion. She spotted a thoroughly chastised Turquoise from across the room and made a beeline toward him. Her hoofsteps were eager, but her face was tight with unease as she neared and saw him look up. Even so, her heart fluttered when he smiled at her.
“Hey, girl, what up?” Turquoise asked, his body relaxing into the cocky poise of an adolescent colt who hadn’t seen enough of life to know any better.
Clearing her throat, Nidra daintily placed her haunches in the chair beside him, the picture of propriety. “I had been under the impression that your wife was invited as well.”
Turquoise rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, the ol’ lady’s been worried about her mom, y’know? Ms. Fluttershy just gets laid up at the littlest thing at her age. Not like my dam.” He gestured to Rarity, who, despite the streaks of gray in her hair and the wrinkles that could no longer be concealed by makeup, was tearing up the dance floor with her huge dragon of a husband. “I swear, the nag’s gonna live forever.”
“Turquoise Blitz!” Nidra said stiffly, glancing sideways at him while keeping her head high and pointed forward. “The way you speak is most unpleasant to my ears. What has gotten into you, lately?”
Shifting in his chair uncomfortably, Turquoise chuckled. “Hey, babe… it’s no big deal. Listen, if you don’t like the way I’m talking, how about I show you how I can move?”
“Huh?” Nidra said, finally snapping her head to look at him.
“I mean, you want to dance?” Turquoise asked, extending his hoof-claws to her.
She looked at his proffered hoof and the three splayed out sharpened digits that extended from them. She pondered the offer for a long moment, her face twisted in conflicting emotion, before finally putting her hoof in his. “Very well! But… only as it will provide a better opportunity to finish where your mother left off.”
Turquoise winced, but led her onto the dance floor, his natural etiquette shining through his playcolt exterior in the way he handled her. As they began to move in time with the music, Nidra couldn’t help but note how strong and toned his body was even after decades of marriage. The last time she had seen Anthea, she had looked worn down and washed out, even in her brightest mood. As he twirled her around with a flourish and brought her spinning back into his arms, holding her close, she also realized that he was still as limber as an adolescent as well.
“I must know, T,” Nidra said, doing her best to suppress the blood threatening to fill her cheeks. “How are things… between you and Annie?”
“Honestly?” Turquoise said, releasing her as they circled each other in time to the beat. “It’s like I said up there. She’s always been so busy with everything… now that the kids are gone it’s like I’m trapped in a house with a stranger.”
A thrill of excitement shot through her as she heard those words, as if a carrot dangled in front of her for far too long was suddenly within reach. “You feel you don’t know each other anymore?” She spread her bat wings as she and Turquoise rose to their hind legs and clasped each other’s front hooves. Her voice shook, somehow uncertain. “I would think that without the foals taking up all your time, this would be a good opportunity to rediscover each other.”
“Yeah, well,” Turquoise muttered as he looked away. “You don’t know what it’s been like. She’s just… always so tired and slow. I feel like I have to constantly hold myself back with her, now, way more than before.” He sighed through his nose as he averted his gaze, a ponderous look on his face. “You know… we went up to a group of colts barely out of school a few months ago, and they thought she was my mom?”
Nidra blinked. “That is… hard to believe.”
Turquoise looked deeply into Nidra’s golden eyes, his muzzle traitorously close to hers. “You know, Nidra, sometimes I think it would be better… better if it just ended now. For… for the both of us.”
Swallowing hard, Nidra looked straight back into Turquoise’s ice blue eyes, her face betraying her desires. She could smell him so sharply now, a primal musk that called to her most bestial self. The grease in his mane, of course, made her more hungry than titillated, but she supposed that either would involve her mouth on him in one way or another, so perhaps that was the idea. She licked her lips in anticipation even as they edged perilously close to his.
“You don’t mean that,” she whispered.
“Maybe,” Turquoise replied. “Maybe I do. It might hurt, but how much more will it hurt later… when…”
As Nidra felt her body warming against his, the question burning in her mind came to the surface. “And would you abandon your wife to run away with some toothsome, nubile princess with whom you could live yet more happy decades… perhaps centuries?”
The expression which passed over Turquoise’s face might have been one of wonder at a tempting prospect. It might also have been shock at the thought of dumping his wife for another mare. Nidra had never been the best at reading ponies. Even so, the mere suggestion that the stallion she had dreamed about in her younger years might be seriously considering her as a new companion aroused her as images of them spending languorous afternoons enjoying each other’s company in the most intimate ways flashed through her mind.
At the same time, however, the spectre of her friend oozed out from the depths of Nidra’s psyche. A tear-stained, pink face twisted with rage and despair stared accusingly at her innermost fantasies, sobs wracking her body with every act of betrayal her daydreams committed. This was a mare who would never forgive her. A mare who could never share her beautiful thoughts with her again.
"I could never live with myself," Nidra realized.
Turquoise jerked back. "Wh-what?"
"Th-that is," Nidra said shakily, turning and scratching her arm self consciously as they stopped their dance. "If I were in your horseshoes, I could never live with myself if I let my relationship with a wonderful pony like Annie fall apart. And for what?" She harumphed petulantly. "Because I was too scared about what might happen? Pitiful."
Turquoise's ears fell. "Well, you needn't be quite that harsh..."
“Apparently, I must,” Nidra said, stamping her hoof daintily.
Turquoise heaved a great sigh. “Aw, man… you sound just like my mom, Ni…”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Nidra said with a sneer. “Now you listen here, T.” She came close to him and, with a flash of magic, conjured two tickets. “I had planned on presenting your sister and my cousin with a honeymoon getaway as my wedding gift to them. However, I can see that another dragon-pony is in need of these.”
“N-Nidra,” Turquoise stammered, looking at the tickets cross-eyed. “I… I can’t…”
“As your princess of slumber,” Nidra said, turning her muzzle up. “I command it. You shall go on an all-expenses-paid trip to the Maribbean with your wife and you shall enjoy it. Together!”
“But,” Turquoise said hesitantly. “Anthea’s mom…”
“Shall be looked after,” Nidra responded. “I shall ensure it. There are many ponies who are more than willing to care for her.” She placed a hoof tenderly on her friend’s shoulder. “T, I want neither you nor Annie to worry about a thing. You two just need to… to remember why you love each other.”
Turquoise simpered bashfully. “Well, I… thanks, Nidra.” He took the tickets gratefully.
“And you need to take that stupid jacket off,” Nidra said flatly.
“And wash your hair!” Rarity interjected from the sidelines.
Crystal Clarity hoisted a pail filled to the brim with soapy water as she flashed a wicked grin. “I’ve already got the bucket!”
“W-wait,” Turquoise said, backing up from the encroaching mares. “No… no, don’t!” He made a dash for the exit, the three ponies hot on his hocks.
Nidra cut Anthea off with a hoof pressed delicately to her muzzle. "No."
“Really,” Anthea insisted, pulling Nidra’s hoof down.
Nidra shook her head. “I think… even if it could have happened, I could never have loved him as well as you. I still am not sure I could.”
Anthea slumped, her expression falling. “You’re being very stubborn, you know that? All I want is a simple promise. A final wish. Doesn’t everypony deserve that?”
“I just,” Nidra hesitated. “I don’t want to make you a promise I can’t keep.”
White eyes twinkling, Anthea tittered. “Oh, you should know better than that. I would never ask you to do something that I didn’t think you could do.”
“Then come out and say it,” Nidra demanded, her voice a little louder than she intended as she sprang to her hooves impatiently. She took a deep breath as she saw her friend jump slightly at the outburst, and she took a step back. “You… you keep dancing around the issue. Obviously, I am misinterpreting your meaning if you say that it is something I can accomplish.”
Anthea grew quiet, wearing a contemplative visage for a long moment as she stared into space. "I suppose you're right." She looked down at Turquoise, though Nidra knew she could no longer see even the usual splotch of green. "I need you to promise... to make sure that T is happy after I'm gone. By whatever means necessary."
"What?" Nidra said, voice flat.
"You've seen how his father is since his mother passed away," Anthea said, the corners of her mouth turning downward. "I don't want him to do that to himself."
“It won’t be that bad, surely…” Nidra said with an encouraging smile.
Anthea scoffed. “That’s funny, coming from you. Don’t you remember how bad you got?”
Nidra’s brow furrowed. “Well…”
“If nothing else,” Anthea said, turning to face Nidra. “Consider this returning a favor.”
Luna stepped into the massive room, black as the night of a dark moon in the densest parts of the Everfree. Even so, being the princess of the night had its perks, and one was impeccable night vision which exceeded that of owls or cats. As such, she could easily make out her daughter slumped on her bed, her body heaving with barely repressed sobs.
“My daughter,” Luna said softly as she entered the room. She saw Nidra stiffen, and halted her approach in deference to her daughter’s discomfort. “You left the service rather suddenly. We were all quite… concerned.”
“So, what, you expected me to smile and make merry like you?” Nidra asked, raising her head, though she kept her face turned away. “I should just pretend like the stallion who raised me and… and did everything in the world for me isn’t…?”
Luna’s face pinched as her eyes threatened to spill their tears. “No, Nidra. You are allowed to feel sad, but… you mustn’t let this affect you too deeply.”
“You saw what was happening,” Nidra interjected, turning her eyes accusingly at her mother in the darkness, her mane sparkling with stars as her passions grew within her. “You and Aunt Celestia… and Uncle Discord… you all saw him withering and rotting while he still lived. You saw how much pain he was in. You did nothing!”
Luna bowed her head. “It isn’t something that can be fixed so easily,” she said. “Even the highest level unicorn spells can only change the appearance and even mentality of a pony to match a particular age. None has yet been found that will significantly extend a pony’s time in this world.” She sighed. “I could have regressed him to a mewling babe and he would have died all the same as I changed his diapers.”
“You could have tried!” Nidra shouted, leaping from her bed to land on the floor in front of her mother, hooves sounding like exploding cannons on the polished stone. Her mane, grown much longer than it had been in her youth, turned completely dark as it flew up, blowing in a nonexistent maelstrom. “You and everypony else just sat on your haunches and let my father die!”
Luna scowled at her daughter, tensing at the aggressive stance she had taken. “Do you think I have never tried before? If a millennium of attempts at keeping loved ones from dying yields nothing, what will one lifetime of work accomplish? Would you have everypony give up their lives for the sake of one stallion?”
“Was he not worth that?” Nidra demanded. “I wonder if you even loved him. Or was he nothing more than a seedbank?”
Now it was Luna’s turn to lash out. She stomped the ground with a silver-shod hoof, cracking the stone easily as her eyes flashed and thunder cracked outside. “I shall consider that to be your grief speaking, for otherwise I might be forced to discipline you severely!”
“You talk tough, Mother,” Nidra said with a snort. “But in the end you never had the guts. You always left that up to Father.” She grinned. “And his solution generally involved copious amounts of candy.”
Luna crinkled her nose in annoyance. “Yes… I am quite aware.” She shook her head and turned her flank on Nidra. “I suppose we were failures to you as parents, then? If you cannot move on from this, then certainly that must be so.”
“Yes,” Nidra said scornfully as she watched Luna walk out the door. “Turn tail and walk away like you do with everything else.” She turned back to the wall and grunted as she let the angry tears fall, far more welcome than the tears of grief that had been there before.
“Um,” a small voice interrupted. “Nidra?”
“What?” Nidra exclaimed, turning her death glare back on her door. A unicorn mare with a dull pink coat and a lime green mane stood tiny in the doorway, cringing before her wrath. Nidra faltered. “A-Annie. I… did not realize it was you.”
Anthea gave her a small smile. “It’s okay. I… don’t suppose you could turn on the light, could you? You know how I hate the dark. Always reminds me…” She grimaced as she placed a hoof to the corner of one eye.
“I understand,” Nidra said, lighting the room with the smallest exertion of her magic. “Please… come in. Of all ponies in the palace, I think it is your company I would welcome most.”
“Well,” Anthea said brightly as she entered. “You really know how to make an old mare feel important.” She huffed as she pulled herself onto Nidra’s massive bed and let out a sigh. “Sorry, standing around so long makes my hooves a bit sore.”
“Of course,” Nidra said. “You are always welcome in my bed.” She frowned as she saw her friend let slip a coy grin, feeling that she had perhaps opened herself up to some form of teasing. “Ah… how is T treating you?” she said quickly.
Anthea reclined on the bed and gave a deep, contented sigh. “Oh, he’s absolutely wonderful, as usual. You know, I was a bit worried when he started having his little… midlife crisis—or maybe it’s a quarter life crisis for him—but once we hit our stride we’ve really grown so much closer as a couple than we ever were while we were raising our foals.” Her face flushed, and for a moment she looked almost as she did when she was still a lovestruck adolescent. “And even though the factory’s long since closed, he still manages to satisfy. Deeply.”
“That,” Nidra said stiltedly. “Is something I would rather not know.”
“Really?” Anthea asked, rolling back to her stomach. “Usually I feel a pronounced breeze when I mention that sort of thing.” She pouted. “I suppose it’s not going to work this time?”
Nidra joined Anthea on the bed, pressing their sides together as she lowered her chin to rest on the plush blanket. “I suppose not.”
Draping her head and neck over Nidra’s, Anthea hummed in a low register. “There, there. It’ll get better, Nidra…”
“Will it?” Nidra responded, allowing her body to go slack as she enjoyed the warmth and comfort of her friend. “I’ve known since I was small that I would be long-lived, but I don’t think I ever really understood what that meant until now. I see the ponies who raised us starting to grow weak and decrepit. Even your mother-in-law, with all the life in her, seems not long for this world. And your mother and teacher already…” She winced. “I am sorry. I should know better than to bring that up.”
Anthea nuzzled Nidra’s head with her cheek. “It’s alright, Nidra. I’ll always miss Mom and Princess Twilight, but they lived a full lives. I still have some life left in me, as well, and there are ponies who need me to be there for them.” She stroked Nidra’s withers with an idle hoof. “Just like there are ponies who will need you to be there, not just now but even decades or centuries from now.”
“Such a typically selfless way for you to look at it,” Nidra said with a snort. “You should know by now that I am selfish to my core.”
Anthea smiled broadly. “Oh, I don’t think that’s true. You’ve done so much for T and me, and for plenty of other ponies, too.”
“Only because,” Nidra explained as she dug her head into the soft cover. “It makes me happy. It has nothing to do with you.”
Raising her head off of Nidra, Anthea smoothed Nidra’s mane, which still shimmered at the edges in spite of her calming emotions. “I promise you, Nidra. You will get over this. You will move on.” She took a deep breath, and her voice came out in dulcet tones.
Hush now…
“What if I don’t want to get over this?”
Quiet now…
“I don’t want to move on.”
It’s time to lay your sleepy head…
“I can’t just forget the ponies I love.”
Hush now…
“I just want to keep loving them...”
Quiet now…
“Forever.”
It's time to go to bed.
Nidra worked her jaw slowly, her look pensive. After a long silence, she finally spoke up. “Do you know what you’re asking of me, Annie?”
“I’m asking you to do what you’ve always done,” Anthea said, her voice dipping low. “I just… won’t be in your way, anymore.”
Pallor washed over Nidra’s complexion, and she put her hooves on the bed, leaning heavily against it. “Annie…”
"He'll need somepony when my time comes. It's very important to me that you keep this vow," Anthea said stiffly.
Nidra sighed and recited the old rhyme, making sure to pantomime the clanging of a bell around her neck, an over-acted shrug, and sitting firmly on her haunches. She finished the routine with a sharp shove and upturned nose, as if refusing an offered gift, and then turned back to regard her old friend. "Happy?"
"Very," Anthea said with a grin. "You did the moves, too, didn't you? I wouldn't have even known if you hadn't, but I know you did."
Nidra rolled her eyes. "You're being far too cavalier about this."
“It’s my life, isn’t it?” Anthea bade her. “I can be as insouciant as I want.”
“Fine,” Nidra groaned querulously as she turned to the door. “You wrung your Candy Vow out of me as you wanted: it shall be my responsibility to ensure your husband's happiness at such a time as you expire. I shall take my leave.”
Anthea smiled to herself, taking in the ambiance of the royal ballroom drifting about her as she sat idly on the side. She had always seen the world in colorful blurs and blotches before, but even those were gone now, replaced with a mauve darkness. It had been difficult to adjust, coming to terms with losing what light she could perceive of the world through sight, but as with many other things in her life, she eventually managed.
Her hearing, fortunately, remained as sharp as ever, and she had no problem picking out where her friends were and generally what they were doing by audio cues alone. Over there Storm was pouring some punch for Whirlwind, who had held up well over the years though her labored breathing bespoke some respiratory issues. Across the room Echo, Pixel Bit, and Api Apple were gossiping amongst each other, Night Light standing stoically by his wife’s side with only the softest of belabored sighs escaping the old wizard’s lips. His older sister, retired general Starburst, sat a short distance away, her prosthetic knee creaking as she tapped her hoof idly to the beat of the music. Red June was chatting with her cousin, Del, who had become rather quiet since Cotton Candy had passed away. Cloudy Skies and Sugar Rush, meanwhile, seemed to be humoring Prism Bolt, who by the offbeat sound of his hooves, was failing miserably but enthusiastically at dancing.
“—that strange creature dancing with Princess Nidra?” a voice filtered through. It wasn’t a voice she was very familiar with, but as this party was being held in her honor she figured it must be somepony related to somepony she knew. Her ears pricked up, nonetheless, curious as to what pony was lucky enough to have Nidra give them even the time of day, much less a dance.
“Yes, it’s hard to tell if it’s a lizard or a pony, isn’t it?” another voice responded with a chuckle. She was pretty sure this was one of the spouses of one of the Apple kin who she was sure she’d met once. “I hear that’s the result of a mare who’s had far too much to drink at the zoo.”
Anthea’s ears flattened against her head. Foals these days really had no respect for other ponies, uttering derisions of others behind their back. Not to mention the description could only mean they were referring to a member of her own family. Mother Apple would be having words from her later.
“—so graceful, isn’t she?” another voice commented from across the room. Anthea was sure she was talking about Nidra.
“Well, she is a princess,” said a stallion beside her. “I must say that I would never expect such a… large dance partner to be so light on his hooves. Claws. Hoof-claw.”
Anthea’s face broke into a pleased grin. Her ears focused in on the subjects of the conversation, easily discernable now by their familiar rhythmic steps across the dance floor and the way many of the assembled ponies were stopping to turn toward them.
“You’ve been staring all night,” Nidra was saying.
Turquoise’s voice came through shortly after, distant and warm. “I can’t help it. Beauty deserves to be admired.”
Anthea felt her heart drop a bit, but shook it off. After all, it was she who had encouraged Turquoise to go mingle and find some younger mare with whom to dance. She just wasn’t the spry filly she once was. It cheered her mildly to know that, of all the ponies he could be with right now, it was her good friend, Princess Nidra.
“It’s getting late,” Nidra said as the music slowed to a halt. “I think the next song will be the last. Are you sure about this?”
Anthea could hear them separating and they began to trot side-by-side. She felt a bittersweet happiness knowing that her husband, as young and strong as he still was, could enjoy the company of a mare who wouldn’t slow him down. He deserved to have some fun.
“Hey, birthday girl,” Turquoise interjected. He was already by her side, she realized, and his dexterous hooves were on her shoulder. “I’d like the honor of the last dance, milady.”
“Oh, T. Dear. You know I can’t,” Anthea protested weakly. “My hip has been giving me fits, not to mention the sciatica…”
Nidra leaned in close, her star-tipped mane tickling Anthea’s shoulder. “Now, Annie, you wouldn’t deny your own husband the last dance with ‘the most beautiful mare in the room,’ would you?”
Anthea swore that she got enough blood into her cheeks to manage a proper girlish blush. “Oh, it’s just not feasible…”
Turquoise gingerly took her hoof and pulled her upright, earning a squeak of surprise. “Come on, beautiful. I won’t let you do anything you can’t handle, okay?”
After a second’s thought, she leaned into her husband’s chest and let him carry her away as the final ballad began. She felt lighter than air with him, her hooves barely touching the ground. “I’m so glad to have the last dance, T.” She closed her eyes as they floated through the cool night air. This time were the words that went unsaid.
Nidra’s ears were, as the daughter of a bat-pony, far more acute than even Anthea’s. As such, she was certain that she could hear those words hanging in the air between them. This time, she thought, might be the last time.
She watched as the couple hovered inches off the ground, Turquoise spinning them around as best he could as he carried the tiny, wizened pony in his arms like a doll. She had watched many of the ponies she had known all her life fade, and now she could see one more, perhaps one of the most important to her, slipping away even as she was being whisked through the sky by her love. Did he even realize? Did he truly grasp what was about to happen?
“Annie,” Nidra whispered, and by the twitch of her friend’s ear she knew she could hear her. “As much as he might have enjoyed dancing with me, tonight, his eyes were always on you. He will always save the last dance… for you.”
“Wait!” Anthea called, bringing Nidra to a halt. “There’s still one more thing I need to ask of you.”
Nidra sneered, but did not move to look at her friend again. “I recall the tradition limiting dying wishes to one.”
Anthea grimaced as she settled back onto her pillows. “This isn’t a dying wish. Just… listen to what I have to say.”
Nidra craned her neck around to give her friend a sidelong glance. “Very well.”
“You promised you wouldn’t let anything hurt me, once,” Anthea said, her voice shaking. “Well… something is hurting me, now. I… I need you to keep that promise.”
Nidra whirled to face her old friend, wings flared. “What! What is it that causes you pain?”
“You, Nidra,” Anthea said weakly, closing her eyes as her face lost its composure.
“I…” Nidra found herself at a loss for words, her heart seeming to lose its rhythm within her chest.
“Three days, Nidra,” Anthea said, suppressing a sob. “I haven’t slept for three days.”
“Annie,” Nidra said. “I can’t…”
Anthea sobbed, shaking her head as she put a hoof to her temple. “Do you think you’re so powerful, Nidra? That you can keep me from my final sleep?”
Nidra swallowed, but found her mouth dry and rough as sandpaper. “I had to try,” she wheezed.
“Even if you could,” Anthea said with a sigh, as with a haggard face she tried to relax. “Can you imagine what it’s like to be constantly tired, mind and body crying for sleep; yet, not being able to rest for even a moment?”
Pressure threatened from deep inside Nidra, but she forced it down violently. "Of course. One cannot cast in one's sleep, after all."
"Nidra..." Anthea said plaintively.
“Annie!" Nidra cried. "I… I’ve lost nearly everypony else. You can’t ask me to lose you, too. There is... still so much time left.”
Sympathy once again flooded Anthea’s features. “Oh, Nidra. You have to. If you love me, my friend, you have to let me go.” She turned to Turquoise. “And that’s the lesson you must pass onto him. Celestia knows he won’t learn it from me.”
Nidra stared at her friend for a long moment. Her face taut, she turned her head away. “Is that all?”
Anthea nodded. “Yes… that's all from me. A friend of ours left a note for you, though.” Her horn glowed a soft green, and a pink envelope flew from her desk drawer and across the room to Nidra.
Taking the letter between her teeth, Nidra gave Anthea a conflicted look unnoticed by the blind unicorn. “Good night, Annie,” she said, and retreated into the shadows, seeming to disappear into them like a phantom. As she left, a soft golden light shone over Turquoise’s head as her magic roused him from his deep slumber.
Outside the hospital room, Nidra considered the letter. Scrawled across it was the name of her friend, Cotton Candy, and it was indeed addressed to her. “After all this time, what could that mare have…?” Deciding not to waste time trying to deduce the motivations of any descendant of the infamous Pinkie Pie, Nidra tore into the envelope and pulled out a clean, blue sheet of paper.
Forever.
The note floated to the ground. Turquoise's drowsy voice could be heard coming from the room, interrupted at intervals by Anthea's strained and weary tones. Nidra took a deep breath.
Hush now, quiet now, close your sleepy eyes…
Nidra’s hooves began to move, her steps slow and loud, in time with the beat of the lullaby.
Hush now, quiet now, my how time sure flies…
The quiet beep of the EKG went flat, replaced by a long, shrill note.
Drifting… off to sleep, life’s excitement behind you…
An anguished roar rattled the hallway as nurses and doctors scrambled past Nidra.
Drifting... off to sleep, let Elysium fi-i-i-i-ind you-u-u-u-u.
She landed within a small, grassy clearing and knelt down before the grave with the grace of falling leaves. “Surprise,” she said with a soft smile.
The marble stone was well kept, Nidra observed. Of course, she had visited annually since Anthea’s passing, and ensured that it was kept to standard before leaving, but it seemed to have been swept recently even though the anniversary was weeks away. It was the anniversary of another mare’s passing, however, and Nidra couldn’t help but put the two together. “He’s been here to visit you, hasn’t he?”
There was no response from the marker, but Nidra still felt as if she were being scrutinized somehow.
“I know, I have been lax in my duties,” Nidra said. “As I said last time, it hasn’t really felt… proper, yet.” She sighed. “He has been disappearing for longer periods of time, however. Perhaps you were right. He is turning into his father.”
She levitated the green blossom that lay on the grave and examined it. This flower had the power to put ponies into a deep slumber, an ability that had been of great interest to the princess of slumber, and was part of the reason Anthea had entrusted a few of them to her when they had begun dying out in the Everfree and Anthea, herself, could no longer maintain them. She had planted the small crop on the outskirts of Ponyville where normal ponies would not fall prey to their magic, and they had flourished after a little encouragement into an entire field.
Nidra smiled. “Yes… he’s most likely gone right back there to mope.” She regarded the stone with a pensive gaze. “Alright, alright. I shall do something about this. I suppose somepony has to.” With an exasperated grin, she climbed to her hooves. “I shall try to return with good news.”
Nidra took to the star-filled sky like a great albatross out of the Everfree, across the Ponyville suburbs, and into the small strip of wilderness that still separated it from Canterlot, proper. Within minutes, she found herself soaring above the field of slumber blossoms.
Turquoise blended in quite well with the flowers, but Nidra’s sharp ears could pick up his small sighs and moans in an instant. She landed daintily behind him, quiet as a thief. As she saw him lying among the flora, a familiar ache began to build in her chest.
No, Nidra, she told herself. You just need to make him happy. That doesn’t mean falling all over him like a schoolfilly with a crush. She braced herself and took a deep breath before speaking.
“Hey,” she said.
He hurriedly wiped his face and then turned around, surprise and confusion evident in his sparkling sapphire eyes. “Um, hey?”
Nidra didn’t let her face betray her as she looked at his handsome countenance. Celestia help me. “Mind if I sit by you?”
"Actually I kind of want to...." he began.
No, Nidra thought, as she marched to his side. I will make sure that T is happy. “I was not asking,” she said firmly, and placed her haunches on the ground, eyes daring him to protest.
By whatever means necessary.
Author's Note
Editor: Imaginary Valued
A special thanks to Kilala for creating her Next Gen characters and allowing us all to use them, as well as for the beautiful cover art.
