Princess Celestia had trouble looking at Coronach directly. She felt conflicted about what she had done, giving in to selfish desires and wanton need. She had thought herself above those things, but then she had been above him, and those needs had re-awoken with a vengeance.

She had bathed Coronach and was now carefully brushing his thick shaggy pelt, staying away from places she knew were tender, places still missing hair. She wanted him to look good for Threnody tonight. The leathery skin of his wings had been conditioned and oiled, leaving them gleaming and the skin looking almost reflective.

Coronach had his own dark imposing majesty.

Even in his convalescence, he was an imposing figure, and so much of his care depended on Celestia because so many ponies were terrified of him. Celestia had heard the rumours of her vengeful immortal guard, the Hero of Nightmare Night, now cursed to live forever because of his betrayal of the Night Princess.

Celestia had done her best to contribute to the gossip and with her own tongue she had seeded some of the rumours. With her dark magic, she had sown fear. She felt awful about it, but having a dark consort would afford her a much needed level of fear and respect without having to rely on being a bloodthirsty tyrant. Having him at her side would be a strong enough deterrent to prevent many coups and attempts to seize power. Not all, just most. She would have to deal with the few foolish enough to try… if Coronach didn’t kill them first. She had no doubt that once Coronach was well again that he would resume his duties.

There was something comforting about the thought of having such a powerful and devoted guard sleeping beside you in the bed, and it made Celestia’s skin shiver as she thought about it, a new feeling of desire sweeping through her body.

“Your Grace, there is so much silence between us,” Coronach stated.

“So talk,” Celestia encouraged as she continued brushing. The big hairy brute was enjoying this, she could tell by the way he squirmed his body towards the hair brush. Celestia levitated over a curry comb and gently applied to the side of Coronach’s neck, causing a low groan to come from the stallion as she began the long smooth strokes to try and make him look presentable.

“So much cruelty has been done to you in your short life, has there been nothing to give you pleasure?” asked Celestia as she continued to drag the curry comb over Coronach’s corded neck.

The stallion did not reply, but leaned over. If it hadn’t been for Celestia’s magic, he wouldn’t be able to sit up at all. Coronach’s breathing was heavy and each huffing exhale came out with a grunt.

“You like being brushed… I would not have thought the great and stony Coronach would give himself over to such fillyish behaviours,” Celestia teased, her words punctuated with a titter. Internally, Celestia was surprised. It was such a simple act, such a common act, but to see that it brought the lunar pegasus so much pleasure made Celestia’s heart warm.

“Yes, I like it a great deal,” Coronach confessed, a rare admission of something he desired escaping his lips. “I would be your slave if you would just keep doing this.”

“I am content with you as my devoted servant,” Celestia replied as the curry comb continued moving between Coronach’s crest and withers, each stroke causing the stallion to twitch and fidget. The stallion was taking deep breaths now.

Celestia, sitting on the bed behind him, leaned forward and pressed the side of her face against Coronach’s neck, taking in his scent and feeling his warmth as she continued to brush. She could feel his body trembling.

“Does this arouse you?” Celestia asked, her nostrils teased with a faint scent of something musky and dank smelling.

Coronach didn’t reply, but froze, falling silent. His heavy breathing had ceased and he was as still as a statue.

“It is alright if it does,” Celestia whispered, the side of her face sliding up Coronach’s neck and he lips moving near the remains of one of his ears. “Let yourself go, just be happy, allow me to make you happy,” Celestia soothed, her words tickling his ear.

Coronach’s breathing resumed.

“I finally have found something that makes my future husband happy, rather than pinching his snoot,” Celestia murmured into one battered and tattered ear that was heavily notched. “So all I need to do to make you submit to my whims is to brush you,” Celestia breathed.

“Yes, yes I will do anything you ask if you will just keep doing this,” Coronach acknowledged.

“There is something I want from you,” Celestia whispered, her words pouring like hot liquid into Coronach’s ear.

“Anything,” Coronach confirmed.

“Your affection,” Celestia begged. “Whatever it might be, however rough your love may seem, open your heart to me, cherish me, make me feel desired and I will brush you until you are hairless,” Celestia vowed.

“This is very difficult for me,” Coronach gasped, his words catching in his throat, feeling Celestia’s hot breath upon his ear. “How do I give you and your body the reverence that is due with these bestial desires of mine?”

“So then you do desire me,” Celestia murmured in reply, her lips brushing against Coronach’s fuzzy ear.

The sun had settled down below the horizon and the moon was slowly rising. The room was filled with a small crowd of ponies. Heat Stroke was present, dressed in his battered but well polished armor, it was covered in notches and dings, each flaw a reminder of some hard won battle. Festus sat with Coronach upon a sofa, Coronach reclining on his belly, his head resting on a pillow. Threnody stood near Hickory, both of them looking quite different given the circumstances, Threnody looking calm and composed, Hickory looking terrified and confused.

Celestia looked regal and composed.

“Both of you, come closer,” Celestia urged to the young couple. The pair did as requested, moving forward together, Threnody giving Hickory a supporting nudge with her wing.

“Threnody, you have rejected a union in the martial culture of your kind, and Hickory, you have requested the simple binding ceremony of your kind. Threnody, are you happy with this arrangement?” Celestia asked.

The lunar pegasus filly nodded.

“Threnody, you are not to use your echolocation during the ceremony,” Celestia commanded in a gentle tone.

“I know,” Threnody replied.

“Kneel, and extend your forelegs,” Celestia requested.

Both ponies did as requested, Hickory extending his right foreleg, Threnody extending her left. Celestia levitated a silken cord to the extended forelegs and then began to bind them, wrapping the cord around both fetlocks, winding it several times, and then securing it in a knot.

“With this cord I bind you,” stated Celestia solemnly. “You are now to function as one, in servitude to one another.”

The room was silent except for the sounds of Coronach’s raspy breathing.

Two large pieces of cloth were levitated up from a nearby table, they were folded into long lengths, and then Celestia began to blindfold the colt and the filly, leaving them both blind and bound together.

“Rise,” Celestia commanded. “Find the voices of those you trust, walk around this room, and do not stumble.”

“Come to me, trust me, I will guide you,” Heat Stroke commanded in a loud clear voice. “Let my voice always be an invitation of refuge,” he offered.

Threnody and Hickory took a few careful steps together, trying to walk in pace with one another. Threnody was much taller and had longer legs than Hickory. It took a few tries, but eventually they found harmony with one another.

“Follow the sound of my voice and may my voice always inspire trust,” Heat Stroke urged.

The pair moved carefully, small cautious steps, moving slowly but steadily towards Heat Stroke, who urged them on. Heat Stroke observed how Hickory actually took the lead while the pair walked, and Threnody fell into pace with him, which surprised Heat Stroke a great deal. He had expected the opposite to be true of the couple.

Heat Stroke reached out and touched the pair when they finally approached him, stroking each one with his wing, causing Threnody to let go with a nervous giggle when he touched her muzzle. “May I always be worthy of the trust you have shown me,” he vowed. “I would offer my life for your happiness.”

The couple bowed their heads, both of them trembling now, both of them silent as their ears strained to hear the next voice.

“Come to me, listen to your father’s voice, and know that you can always trust me,” Coronach said in his gravel-filled rock slide voice.

“Yes, come to us,” Festus encouraged. “I am your father’s friend, and I long for your trust, do come to us.”

The pair turned around, moving together carefully, trying not to slip or stumble. It took them a while to get oriented, Threnody listening for her father’s breathing.

“Threnody, do as your father bids. Come to me my sweet filly, show me I am deserving of your trust,” Coronach said, his words raspier than usual, raw emotion creeping into his voice. “Hickory, be my son, come to me, let me prove I am a worthy father.”

The pair moved slowly, only having trouble when they encountered a rug. Working together, they prevented each other from stumbling, leaning into one another’s sides and waiting until both felt ready to move.

“Come on, both of you, allow me to prove I am a trusted friend that you can turn to as you begin your family,” Festus said in a loud clear voice, his beak clicking a few times as he spoke.

The pair made it across the room without stumbling, approaching the sofa where Festus and Coronach were seated. Festus reached out first, touching each of them on their muzzles, the griffon delighted to learn about a new culture and tradition. He planned to make copious notes later.

“I hope I prove worthy of your trust. Hickory, as long as you are in my employ, I will do all I can to keep you safe,” Festus offered. “Threnody, I hope you will trust me to keep your mate safe and secure.”

Coronach extended one trembling wing, echolocating to find the pair, and touched each of them in turn. He whimpered softly as a loud pop burst from his wing joint. The grizzled war pony would not be deterred, and kept his wing extended, ignoring the searing pain.

“I hope that I have earned your love and trust enough to be rewarded with grandfoals, to be honoured with the knowledge of knowing my bloodline lives on,” Coronach said. “Hickory, I am trusting you with one of the few things that has value to me. I hope you do a better job guarding her happiness than I have.”

The inside of Threnody’s blindfold dampened at her father’s words. There was so much she wanted to say, but she knew that she had to be silent for the ceremony. She leaned on Hickory instead, seeking his silent comfort, and she felt Hickory rub against her.

“Now return to me,” Celestia commanded.

The pair moved together, once again performing the complicated dance of turning around to face the other direction with their forelegs tied together. The heat from Hickory’s body and his constant brushing against her side inflamed Threnody with desire. She wanted to spend the rest of her life being this close to Hickory, to always feel his warmth and the soft short hairs of his pelt against her own shaggy long haired pelt.

“Follow the sound of my voice, prove to me that I am worthy of your trust as both your Monarch and your friend,” Celestia said, her voice carrying through the room. “You have done so well, do not stumble now so near the finish.”

The pair moved slowly, feeling their way through the room, carefully extending their forehooves to feel the way, looking for rugs or other hazards that might trip them up. They were forbidden from speaking to help one another.

“Not much further, you can do this,” Celestia encouraged.

Finally, the pair returned to Celestia, who touched them both upon their muzzles with her wing, and then planted a kiss upon each one of their heads.

“In accordance with the old earth pony traditions, a blessing upon your union. You held together in your trust of one another and moved as one, never stumbling, never faltering, never failing one another. Continue to do this as you journey through life together. You are bound, never let this sacred bond be broken,” Celestia decreed. She moved to remove the blindfolds and the silken cord. The pair stood blinking in the bright light, still standing pressed against one another. “I believe it is customary to kiss the bride now Hickory,” Celestia whispered to the bewildered earth pony colt who was still trying to adjust to seeing again.

Hickory did not need to be told twice. He shyly raised his head, looked his bride in the eye, and then kissed her passionately, holding nothing back, his mouth opening slightly as Threnody pressed her advantage with her tongue.

Finally, the pair pulled apart, breathless, Threnody’s tongue still hanging out as she panted, her wings fluttering at her sides.

“And here is where we break with earth pony tradition,” Celestia announced. “Now, the bride flies away with the groom and takes him back to her rookery.”

Author's Note

I enjoyed writing the wedding scene immensely. I based it upon old Celtic traditions of handfasting.

Let me know if there is anything I missed. Grammarly is a good product, but it isn't perfect. Has helped the editing process immensely though.

Leaving feedback is greatly appreciated, and comments are always welcomed.