Medicine for Midnight Melancholy
Medicine for Midnight Melancholy
There is something eerily brilliant about the morning’s youthful hours. The moon’s dull and bleak luminescence, the stars twinkling mascaraed all contribute to an intergalactic performance. Ponies often make the incorrect assumption that if the sky is dark, it is night, nothing more nothing less.
But nay.
Wrong are the hordes of insolent kind.
Little do they know that the morning sky is a concoction of many celestial potions, milked from the fibers of space itself. Constellations, galaxies, planets and comets sparkle like champagne in the tall flute of the astros. And in that expanse of unknown wonder, where the imagination depicts a far from accurate representation, is something.
The inky blackness between the stars must be read like the blanks between lines in a book. In those gaps is something that watches over us, peering through a million miles of heavenly expanse onto our own diminutive lives.
Returning the gaze from a train car window, propped up on her front hooves, was a lonesome purple unicorn. Twilight Sparkle sighed as the train fervently rocked from side to side.
I wonder what’s up there.
She thought.
Without a second glance, she turned from the night sky and looked at the passenger car.
It was empty.
Not that it came as a surprise. Usually the trains didn’t run this late, let alone this efficiently. Then again, the Princess didn’t usually order trains out of their respective sheds at half past midnight.
How abstruse.
She laughed nervously at her own formal diction. Years of being swarmed with contemporary and classical literature had secured a foothold in the development of the Princesses protégée’s vocabulary. Now Twilight found many instances where even she would have to pause and ask her intellectual mind,
Wait… what was that word? No not that one, the bigger one… yes that one.
Details, details, details. That’s all it really boiled down to. Her education, her mature vocabulary. It all peeled away to the specific details that made up her life. And in turn the details required explanation, much like Twilight’s predicament. Silently whisked away in the shrouding cover of darkness, at the hours, even a late working librarian such as herself, referred to as ungodly.
How abstruse…
She thought once again
The secrecy of the situation sent rash conclusions buzzing around Twilight’s head like a miniature Beelzebub.
It wasn’t the first time the royal summons had fallen upon her arboreus home, and she prayed it wasn’t the last. However, it had arrived at a most peculiar time, and the speculations of her ever active mind, conducted an orchestra of worry and agitation. Jumping to conclusions that would send the most pious of ponies to their mental damnation.
What if I’ve overstepped my boundaries?
She fretted.
What if I’ve done the unforgivable, and am now willingly traveling to my execution?
Of course she could not be certain that such ideas were in fact, true. Yet it was natural for such presumptuous accusations to be the first on her mind. The hostile rumours that swarmed the Princesses name did not help either. Accusations of censorship and cynical arrests clouded the image that Twilight held dear, no matter how many times she tried to convince herself otherwise. After all, what kind of loving and compassionate leader sends their own flesh and blood to the moon? The result was a murky bog of ideas and suggestions that revoked solid fact. And much like with the Time Traveling Twilight incident, it was redundantly clear that the purple unicorn was not one for speculation, but for categorical information.
With half a mind still unconsciously pondering the implications of her expedition, she turned her focus back to the nocturnal cinema outside the trains window. Mountains and forests slipped past underneath the unmoving mural of space. On the horizon, fluorescent lights splashed across dwindling clouds and notified Twilight of her impending arrival.
Canterlot, the city of the equine gods... or goddesses. Lavishly decorated with flowing flower baskets, golden spires and platinum personalities.
Dreams were made and broken here.
Ideas sprouted and flourished here.
And the princess made her abode here.
Her mind wandered along a path of self segregation as the train pulled into Canterlot Station. It shuddered to a halt and jolted the preoccupied mare back to reality. With a disheartening exhale, she progressed from the private train car and onto the deserted cobblestone streets of the regal city.
The bittersweet pang of nostalgia washed through her body as familiar childhood landmarks crossed her avenue. However, not once did her rhythmic steps falter. Curiosity of what was to occur at the Princesses royal residence, pushed her forward.
A curiosity shadowed by emotions of doom and despair.
Accompanied by the speculative thought of marching to her demise.
Calm yourself Twilight, I’m sure it’s much less fatal than you fear.
Thinking in third person always calmed her worried mind. Envisioning that there were more than one conscious entity in her head soothed her thoughts. It was with this idea, that she could pursued and debate her anxiety towards an agreeable mitigation.
But much like a vulnerable sugar cube in scalding tea, the consolidating voices petered out into nothing more than mumbling sacrilege.
The royal gates towered over the solitary mare, and invited her inside with volatile compassion. It was against her own true will that she placed a quivering hoof inside the castle grounds. It was against her worrisome minds blaring alarm to not go any further, and return home, that she continued through the front doors.
It’s too late now, I must go inside. I... I need to know.
Know why she had been summoned with the most urgent of letters.
Know what was so important that it couldn’t wait till morning.
Know how she was going to be greeted.
Harrowing hoofsteps reverberated against the cold lifeless halls of the vibrant castle. Twilight continued to ponder.
What if she’s going to send me to the moon?
Could the rumors of her actual tyrannous actions be true?
But she’s been nothing but kind me. What did I do that would make her send me into exile? Why am I here now? Why would she do this? How could she be so evil?
Her mind continued to race as she rattled off assumptions. She could go on for hours, and never be satisfied with anything but the truth. There was no remedy other than factual knowledge.
She walked for what could’ve been hours or possibly just mere minutes, but the time spent circling her mind was equivalent to a millenia.
A millenia of mental torture.
Eventually she came to the familiar solid oak doors that permitted entrance into the royal chambers. They might as well have been the entrance to Tartarus, and the diligent guard that stood outside was Cerberus keeper of the dead. Every detail was an unpleasant reminder of the possible horrors that awaited. The coiling gold leaf patterns, carved into the grandiose wooden slabs, sent shivers running up and down her spine and reminded her of a devilish serpent.
As she stepped towards the door, Twilight felt as if she was peering over her body from a supernatural observation room. Her disembodied spirit helplessly watched as she pressed against the door and peered into the majestic chambers.
The room was dimly lit, and what little light present cast ghoulish elongated shadows. A burning timbre flickered in the Princesses marble ornate fireplace, as a gentle breeze childishly played with her royal purple drapes.
“Ah Twilight, my star pupil. How are you this evening?”
Her majestic voice flowed effortlessly through the balmy summer air. It lazily dipped past a poignant chandelier and nonchalantly teased Twilight’s inner ear.
Turning to greet her teacher’s ethereal tones, she couldn’t help but challenge the Princesses question.
This evening, doesn’t she know the time? And of course she would be completely apathetic towards why I am really here. She must know that I understand exactly why she summoned me.
...or do I?
But instead of speaking the callous remarks in her mind, she replied with a tone that even Prince Blueblood would find sickly sweet.
“Princess, I’m, uhh, fine. H-how are you?”
The royal sister arose from her dramatic throw cushion by the fire, and approached her guest.
What little remaining confidence Twilight retained, cowered in the basking glow of her supernatural beauty. The mane that percolated with such fluidity, the golden yoke that sat so diligently around her perfect neck. All of her existence made Twilight feel incompetent.
She’s so,
Pure.
“Well aside from the Grydon ambassador attempting to stage a coup de ‘tat, I am mediocre.”
It was hard for Twilight to accuse such a kosher being of something as horrid as an execution or exile. But the nagging in the back of her mind forced forward a question, which she was sure would seal her fate.
Twilight gulped, and attempted to purge her body of all worry.
“Princess? Why, if you don’t mind me asking, did you call me here?”
A look of sullen contempt dragged at the corners of her mouth, as Twilight’s question tainted the brew of light hearted small talk.
Now I’ve done it. I’ve pushed myself into the abyss... I think. Oh how perfect she is. I have soiled her image forever with whatever action she is punishing me for.
No... no, I didn’t do it. She did it to herself, with her dictatorial nature.
Twilight’s thoughts were interrupted by a slightly less august tone.
“Oh, yes. Give me a moment, I must retrieve something from my bedroom. Please have a seat.”
It was in lieu of the Princesses absence, that Twilight embraced her coming fate.
That look on her face.
So despairing.
It’s true, I’ve come to meet my maker.
She sat with bated breath, as the clock that hung precariously over the mantle tocked in echoey belligerence. The fire continued to burn bright and animated, bathing the right side of her face with light, and leaving the other to be swallowed by darkness.
Seconds turned to a minute and minutes turned to an hour.
Nothing.
Twilight thought.
She’s torturing me before my persecution.
She wants me to know that I’ve done something wrong.
But as the time continued to slip past, her worries shifted from herself, to the princess.
It had been almost an hour and a bit, yet she had not stirred from the royal bedroom.
Twilight took a moment to hush the incessant voices in her head and invited the silence of the room to envelope her.
A silence that did not come.
As the lull of her multiple consciences died down, it was replaced with weak and feeble sobbing.
Tha- That’s coming from her room.
Confused and feeling slightly neurotic, she advanced upon the door. The muffled cries grew stronger, as she telepathically reached for the glimmering door knob. All the while her mind was a veritable amusement park of chaos.
With tremulous spirits, she peered into the dark moonlit room and gasped at the sight before her.
Crumpled on the floor, beside a slightly less vivacious fire place, was the stoic and collective Princess. Her shoulders shook and convulsed as the ghostly wails struck Twilight like a cinder block.
Sprawled out in front of her was a semicircle of photographs, each from a different time with a different texture.
What in the hay?
Twilight strained to view the pictures in the pale lunar effulgence, and she cautiously approached the scene.
A rainbow of colourful remembrance, a hemicycle of history, were the descriptions that Twilight came up with.
Each photograph held a different group of ponies, ranging from 3-6, frozen in permanent whimsical expression.
Though each picture portrayed a different group, one entity remained constant. Unchanged throughout the generations. An entity that Twilight knew much to personally. Her teacher, her ruler, her Princess.
Tears stained the carpet like drops of bitter sweet brandy as Twilight noiselessly peered over her mentors shoulder.
It didn’t take a brilliant mind to decipher the sorrowful exhibition of nostalgia before the purple unicorn. In an instant she concluded that the real reasoning behind her summons was not of malice, but of a cry for consolation.
The pictures went from a fuzzy solid black and white, to an image with cut and refined edges that portrayed a group of 6.
Through fluctuant breaths, the Princess spoke.
“A thousand years is a long time Twilight.”
Twilight stayed in her purgatory of silent consonance.
“And I have barely scratched the surface.”
The Princess collapsed into a fit of sobs and tears as Twilight laid a sympathetic hoof on her back.
“All these years... all who I have befriended. Everypony I know goes away in the end.”
My goodness,
Twilight stated to herself
Not once have I ever thou...
“What have I become Twilight? Sending my own sister to the moon?”
She couldn’t will herself to speak, besides, the situation did not require words. With as much compassion one could expel through the simple act of sitting down, Twilight rested herself against her distraught teacher.
“I hear the rumours, the accusations. I know how everypony thinks of me, how I’m just a tyrannous dictator in their minds. Willing to send my own flesh and blood into exile.”
A pang of regret kicked Twilight in the heart as she recalled the anxious thoughts that sprouted from her own mind.
“And what do I have to show for it? How am I supposed to prove them wrong if they aren't willing to listen?”
She gazed at the Princess and admired her unparalleled ability to remain awe inspiringly beautiful even in emotional distress. Her facial features which seemed to be sculpted by the hammer and lightning of Zeus, yet with the delicate and decadent touch of Aphrodite, struck a chord on her heart strings.
“If I could start again... Oh god Twilight if I could, I would change everything.”
The frantic royal succumbed to her emotions once again, and lost what little control she held over her sporadic breaths.
How could I have been so prejudiced, so bigoted to believe what everypony else incorrectly thought?
So wrong are the hordes of insolent kind.
So wrong was I, of insolent kind.
Twilight stared at the pathetic pile of emotional agony, and felt nothing but empathy and compassion.
In that moment of benevolence, the purple unicorn felt a concoction of emotions unlike any other. A peculiar mixture of affection and understanding, but concluded with something she couldn’t quite put her hoof on.
She watched as tears flowed from the Princess's eyes and danced with one another on the stage of her cheeks. She grit her teeth and drew in diffident breaths before dropping her head to the floor.
She looks so pitiful.
But still, she’s quite possibly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes upon.
Twilight reached out with one hoof and nervously grasped the chin of the weeping alicorn.
In an instant the Princess halted her lament, and stood in dumbfounded wonder as her student grasped the side of her face with her other hoof.
The purple magician carefully pulled herself closer to the post-weeping deity.
The saccharine scent of the Princesses meticulously well groomed mane sent waves of ecstasy through her body, and unlocked the title of the emotion she could not name.
With one final movement, the royal figure closed the gap between their noses, and pressed her lips against Twilights.
Love
Twilight repeated over and over as euphoria flooded her mind.
Love is the word I’m looking for,
The passionate kiss sent butterflies soaring through her stomach.
As time progressed the osculation became more and more intimate, and Twilight began to ponder exactly what she was doing.
I’m kissing the princess,
Well actually she kissed me, but...
Her intriguing thoughts were severed as the Princess abruptly pulled away.
She bowed her head in remission, and shamefully turned to the cold unforgiving wallpaper.
“No Twilight, I-I can’t. I can’t do this if it’s out of pity. I don’t want to hurt you too. I will let you down.”
Twilight glared at the floor in hope that perhaps it would propose a solution to the current succession of events. However, it’s lasting silence informed her that the answer would indeed have to come from herself. After a moment of mental wandering an epiphany emerged like a serpent from the deep.
With an amorous nuzzle Twilight refuted the Princess’ disturbing thoughts.
“No. I’m not doing it out of pity, I’m doing it out of realization.”
She paused and spiritually patted herself on the back in encouragement.
“All these years, I knew that I loved you, I just thought it was strictly friendship. But now, seeing you like this, I realized that it was something much stronger than that.”
A tepid breeze tussled Twilights uniform mane, and she bashfully blew at an unruly strand of purple hair. She wrapped her hooves around the now smiling sovereign, and nuzzled her chin before bestowing a vehement kiss upon the Princesses lips.
Satisfied with the genuinity of her students confession, the royal responded by returning her affection.
Guided with nothing but pale moonlight, the duo shuffled towards the chambers’ four poster bed.
Locked in their moment of ecstasy, Twilight lay back against the delicate silk duvet and awaited her rulers touch.
The alicorn descended upon her lover.
My god.
Thought Twilight
I-I can’t believe that I...
That we’re, doing this.
The Princesses hooves ran over her body like a pianists on a keyboard.
A symphony of pleasure and intimacy erupted from the deepest penetralia like a blossoming tulip. It wound its way through the stomach and around both kidneys. It paused at her diaphragm before reaching for the heart and caressing its scattered beating.
Tiny pecks landed upon her chest and ran down her body, each emitting their own thunderstorms of felicity.
Twilight cradled her suitors head as she progressed to the zones devoted to pleasure.
Minutes cascaded into hours as the two affectionate ponies dispelled their worries, and let nothing but pleasure fill their souls.
Twilight gasped as her body shuddered. She felt her stomach lurch as she approached a climactic conclusion. A vibrant display of emotional fireworks erupted behind sealed eyelids, and she collapsed onto the chest of the Princess as an overall feeling of bliss flushed through her.
From her position, she could see through the bedrooms baroque window. The black sky was beginning to fall to a slightly lighter shade of navy blue on the eastern horizon.
She could tell by her partners calming breaths that, at least for the moment, she was at peace. It would take time to heal the raw internal wounds of social prejudice. But Twilight was determined to stand by her side until the scars were flush with her regal white pelt. She burrowed up against her teachers body, and nuzzled her neck.
I guess I love her.
She thought.
But what about my friends,
What about everypony else?
What will they think?
A second voice erupted from the back of her mind.
Think about what Twilight?
Do they really need to know?
She smiled as the notion of sleep suddenly overcame her fatigued body. Thinking in third person, it always calmed her worried mind.
Twilight peered up at the sleeping alicorn, and felt her heart melt when she noticed a slight upward curl at the side of her mouth.
Love,
She thought.
The perfect medicine, for midnight melancholy.
