Chapters Everything in the world hinged on what Celestia chose to do next. Her body ached, one wing was badly burned, one eye would be useless for a very long time, and a troop of loyal solar guard lie dead all around her.
Nightmare Moon was just too strong.
And Celestia was just too weak.
Stay and fight, or flee and recover.
It was a difficult decision. An impossible decision. Fleeing meant the death of so many more, as it would take time to recover. Staying and fighting might mean the death of everything. A nagging worry played in Celestia’s mind that Nightmare Moon may have the ability to unravel immortality. Celestia’s wounds were not closing as they should.
As Celestia stood, making ready to begin her assault, another option presented itself. A lone figure came streaking down out of heavens, a silvery white contrail streaming out behind him, and he slammed into the side of Nightmare Moon, knocking her from the air and slamming her into the earth.
“FOOL! she spat, climbing back up to her hooves.
Celestia saw that the intercepting guard was one of Luna’s own, a lunar pegasus. He was already up and moving, which was surprising. Nightmare Moon snatched him up in her magic and slammed him into a pillar with a wet thud.
Celestia looked at the guard, seeing he was still alive somehow after the horrific collision, and he peered back at her.
“Run your Majesty, do what must be done,” he growled.
Nightmare Moon lifted a broken pillar with her magic and then dropped it down upon her guard, laughing maniacally. Celestia, seeing that the guard had been crushed, took advantage of Nightmare Moon’s gloating to flee the ruined hall, going down deeper into the palace of the Royal Pony Sisters.
Celestia could hear the sounds of battle up above her. She heard horns. It seemed that reinforcements had arrived. Behind her, she heard hoofsteps, which filled her with terrible fear. She whirled, and saw something unexpected.
The guard who had bought her time to escape was limping along behind her, panting, and trying to keep up.
“You… I watched you die,” gasped Celestia.
“Sorry your Majesty, I will not allow that to happen again, forgive me for causing you distress,” the guard gasped and groaned, struggling to keep moving.
He was a mess. One leg was broken. There was a tear in one leathery bat-like wing. A gash ran from nostril to ear, one eye gone, only a bloody gaping socket remained. A wet whistling sound came from a ragged red crater in his side, in front of his wing, exposed ends of shattered ribs visible and poking out from the mutilated flesh around the hole.
“Why are you here?” asked Celestia.
“I swore fealty to your sister and you. I was one of the few that did so. Luna is gone. That monster is not Luna,” he said sadly.
“How are you still alive?” asked Celestia, still not believing what she was seeing.
“Begging your Majesty’s pardon, but I am damn hard to kill. I was swallowed by a dragon once and I kicked my way out from the inside,” the guard replied. “I will serve you until there is no breath in my remaining lung.”
“You are relieved. Go wait this out. You have done enough,” commanded Celestia.
“No,” the guard replied, shaking his head.
“No?” asked Celestia, not believing what she had just heard.
“I’d rather take a flogging for disobeying an order. My reply is no. Er, no your Majesty,” he retorted.
“Name and rank,” demanded Celestia.
“Coronach. Watch Captain,” he replied, wind still whistling horridly in and out of the jagged pitted hole in his barrel. “Look, I beg your pardon, but Nightmare Moon was very surprised to see me crawl out from under that pillar. She left me impaled on the twisted remains of an iron gate. I have a bone to pick with her.”
Celestia’s jaw dropped open.
“Shouldn’t we be moving your Majesty?” Coronach inquired in worried tones.
“I go to fetch the Elements of Harmony,” Celestia said, still baffled by the guard’s tenacity for clinging to life. Lunar pegasi were tough, but Coronach seemed to defy reality. He was almost as large as she was, easily standing at a hight equal to her wing joint.
“I will serve you until such a time that I no longer draw breath, and then probably for several minutes afterwards,” promised Coronach in a wet raspy wheeze, blood trickling from his lips as he spoke. “Forgive my manners your Majesty,” he begged. “I have soiled your pelt with my common blood.”
“We should be going,” commanded Celestia, moving down the hall once again, a deep passage beneath the castle commons. She ignored Coronach’s blood on her pelt. Above her, she could hear Nightmare Moon destroying their home. There were explosions and the entire foundations shook.
Coronach followed obediently, saying nothing else, the terrible sucking sound of the wet whistling wind going in and out of the hole in his barrel filling the hall. He limped as he walked in three legs, dragging his broken leg along behind him. The passageway was too small for him to fly.
The pair walked into the darkness, Celestia’s horn lighting the way.
“No…” moaned Celestia, halting, her wings opening and spreading slightly. “Clover!” she wailed, falling down beside the body on the floor. The body was slashed and mutilated, causing the flesh to dangle off in tatters. There was no bloody trail leading to it. Celestia concluded that Clover the Clever had teleported down here after surviving the assault. She didn’t survive very long. Clover it seemed, had also gone after the Elements of Harmony, probably to bring them to Celestia. “My dearest and most trusted friend,” sobbed Celestia.
Coronach stood patiently, oozing blood from dozens of wounds, standing watch over the grief stricken monarch as his own life force continued to flow from his body, making dripping sounds that echoed in the deep dark.
The hidden vault lie ahead. Some months ago, Celestia had moved the Elements from their original vault, the one that Luna knew about. Celestia had lived in fear of this day coming for quite some time. The only other pony that knew about the change was Clover.
Celestia rose and pressed her nose into Clover one last time, pulling away with a muzzle that dripped her friend’s life blood.
“Come, Coronach, we finish this. Once I have them, I will use what little energy I have left to teleport us to the surface. I will be weak and exposed after I do so. I will need time to activate the Elements and deal with my sister. You have offered so much already, but since you seem willing to give your life, I now require that you buy me time. ” Celestia explained in careful detail.
Coronach nodded when Celestia looked at him, causing a frightful amount of blood to spill from his gaping garish eye socket. It trickled down his muzzle and splattered upon the floor in large wet drops, sending awful echoes off to dwell in the darkness.
Celestia opened the vault, going into the hidden room, and the Elements rose up from their hidden stand in the floor to greet her. They twinkled with faint light at first, and then began to glow in her presence. She carried them in her magic, and they attuned themselves to her, realising that one of the bearers, Luna, served the Elements no longer.
“Ready?” asked Celestia, looking at her loyal guard, and feeling a brief pang, wishing that she had taken time to know him. Usually, she felt repulsed by the lunar guard and their savage ways. Coronach seemed gentle and noble.
“I will serve,” barked Coronach, spitting blood as he did so.
Celestia’s horn flashed, causing her and her companion in the dark to vanish.
They reappeared in the now ruined gate yard, Coronach glancing around him with his remaining eye.
Nightmare Moon descended with a screech, death swooping down on black wings that made no sound as they slashed through the night. Coronach spread his wings and moved to intercept, taking off with a jerky clumsy movement that seemed to make flight impossible. Somehow, Coronach flew.
“HOW ARE YOU ALIVE?” Nightmare Moon screamed, seeing Coronach. “STAY DEAD, YOUR PRINCESS COMMANDS IT!”
“No!” growled Coronach, pumping his wings so he could rise to meet Nightmare Moon and engage her in combat. “Go stuff a pike up your foul piss hole!”
Nightmare Moon spared him the trouble. She seized him in her magic and smashed him into the gatehouse, causing the stone wall to crumble with the impact. Before his limp body could slide down and hit the ground, she sent him flying again, moving with great speed, and slamming him into the observation tower. Coronach’s broken body fell from a great height and tumbled into the gate yard below.
“AND NOW SISTER, THE NIGHT SHALL LAST FOREVER!” Nightmare Moon shrieked, cackling madly with laughter.
“Not if I have a say in it,” wheezed Coronach, rising up into the air, another leg now hanging at an odd angle, his skull looking lumpy and somewhat misshapen. He flew straight towards Nightmare Moon as Celestia began to be surrounded by a piercing rainbow coloured glow, filling the darkness with light.
“DIE! I COMMAND IT!” shouted Nightmare Moon, filled with rage at the insolent lunar pegasus that refused to die. She snatched him with her magic, flung him around, mercilessly smashing him into several walls, and then impaled him on a flagpole, fiendishly laughing as Coronach squirmed and writhed, trying to pull himself upwards using his one good foreleg to free himself. “DIE IN PAIN!” Nightmare Moon commanded, enjoying the agonised writhing of the impaled guard.
“SISTER!” Celestia screamed, “I AM SORRY!”
A lance of rainbow light rose up from the ground, striking Nightmare Moon, burning away her black flesh, revealing for a moment a dark blue alicorn. There was an agonised shriek, and then the lance of rainbow light streaked off towards the heavens, towards the moon, binding Nightmare Moon, who was once Luna, sister of Celestia, into a terrible lunar prison. Celestia took no joy in her triumph.
Struggling to fly with her badly damaged wing, she made it to the roof after expending great effort, finally landing with heaving gasps. She looked up, seeing the impaled pegasus, and with dawning horror, realised that he was still alive, face pointing down at her, a pleading look on his face. His remaining eye, sensitive to light, had been burned by the light the Elements had produced, leaving it white and milky, his vision forever lost.
“Kill me,” Coronach rasped, blood flowing from his lips. He hung, head downwards, his backside pointing skywards.
Celestia gagged at the sight, and, unable to keep looking, turned away. “I can not,” she murmured, her heart breaking, realising she could not deal any more death this night, even if it was mercy.
“Oh Goddess, I have served you faithfully, kill me…” Coronach begged.
“I CAN NOT!” Celestia snapped, falling to the roof, sobbing, having endured too much, the sorrow of her own lost sister settling in, Coronach’s blood raining down upon her as she wept, her body shaking with sobs of grief.
A few surviving solar pegasi landed, forming a protective circle around her, their numbers now a precious few. They peered up at the impaled lunar pegasus, their faces contorting in horror, the hardened veterans of war, forced turn away.
“Kill me,” Coronach burbled, blood trickling from his loose and limp lips.
“No!” commanded Celestia. “No more death!” she shrieked. “Thousands have died, no more!”
The solar guard shuffled, torn between duty and loyalty for their bat winged brethren. There was no doubt whose side he had been on, and the solar pegasi treated him as one of their own.
“Your Highness, I can make it swift and painless,” promised a guard.
“NO!” squealed Celestia, bawling from grief, and grinding her teeth together for a moment. “I cannot bear any more death, forgive me my selfishness.”
“I forgive you my Goddess,” Coronach rasped, his head hanging limp, his blood staining the flagpole as the sun began to rise for the first time in days.
Celestia struggled to her hooves, rising to greet the sun, feeling her magic flowing back into her as the sun now began to finally shine upon her.
She carefully teleported Coronach’s body off of the flagpole and gently cradled him in her magic, swearing silently that Nightmare Moon’s rampage would not claim this noble guard pony’s life.
Moments later, she suffered the horrifying realisation that Coronach was a creature of shadow, and she would not be able to heal him with her magic.
Celestia wept bitter tears.
Author's Note
Well, here it is, a reversal of "To Dance In Shadow."
The opening chapter of Blinded By the Sun, a story about Celestia finding a bit of solace after banishing her sister.
The castle was nearly a ruin now. Much of it was unsafe. The parts of it that still stood did so in the pale light of the second dawn, after one very long night. With the return of the sun, Celestia had begun to heal again, but slowly, she will still in great pain, and still unable to see much in one eye. Her connection to the sun had been severed, she had realised, and she had been in mortal peril.
It had made what Coronach had done even more important.
The lunar pegasi lay, even now, inches away from death, somehow still alive, his broken and battered body thoroughly thrashed beyond any sustainable belief. Celestia had trouble accepting that he was still alive. More broken bones than could be counted. Multiple gaping holes from multiple impalements. Sucking barrel wounds. Wounds . One alone was usually fatal, but Coronach had sustained several.
And she was completely unable to heal him or restore him due to his shadow nature. it was knowledge that unsettled her and made her feel uneasy. She stood at the crenellations, proud and resolute, sorrowful and grief stricken, and regretting the order she had given.
The decision had been made to abandon this castle. It was a grave now, full of ghosts, bad memories, and dead things. Clover had been entombed in the hidden vault where the Elements had been hidden. The Elements themselves had vanished, gone, they had flashed with a brief light and then disappeared. Equestria's one great hope, now seemingly gone forever. Celestia felt no hope at all. The future was completely unknown, uncertain, there was no clear path forward.
“Your Majesty, Canterhorn Fortress has been prepared for your arrival. The evacuations go well. The common citizenry go willingly, they too wish to leave this place. The dead are still being recovered, the Honour Guard work tirelessly to give them the respect they deserve. Even those who served Her are being buried and looked after properly. Enemies or not, they held to their oaths and served Her to the most bitter of ends, and that must be respected. We shall not be enemies in death.”
The grieving monarch turned to look at Heat Stroke, a brave and loyal guard. He was more poet than warrior, and Celestia was relieved to know that he had lived. She would need Heat Stroke now more than ever.
“Coronach has been made as comfortable as possible as he conveleses. I do not understand how he is alive, but he still lives. He grumbles constantly, but I do believe that he has earned the right to do so, all things considered. He is refusing to take food or water though. Festus, the griffon surgeon, believes that Coronach is attempting passive suicide, and poor Festus is very confused on what to do because of his oath to do no harm,” Heat Stroke continued.
“Confused?” asked Celestia.
“Well, either way, Festus is doing harm. Keeping Coronach alive at this point is causing unbelievable harm. Allowing him to die would also be doing harm. Festus is quite distraught and is caught in a philosophical conundrum that I myself share,” explained Heat Stroke.
“Coronach is to be kept alive by any means necessary. If he will not take sustenance, than I shall deal with him personally. I will also make sure his transport to Canterhorn Fortress goes smoothly. I need more time for my wing to heal,” commanded Celestia, causing Heat Stroke to flinch in discomfort.
“Your Majesty, forgive me for speaking out place, but keeping him alive seems cruel…”
“You are not forgiven,” interrupted Celestia, causing Heat Stroke to drop his head in shame. She glared at him. “There has been enough death. Coronach has become a prize. A symbol. We must struggle to rebuild. To heal. To live again. Coronach was tough enough to endure his trials of abuse, he is still alive, and he will endure through this. Of this, I am confident and certain.”
Heat Stroke nodded, unable to meet the gaze of his monarch. He dared not suggest that he thought she might be suffering from a bit of madness perhaps, or a lapse in judgment. At least, not now, when the wounds were still so fresh. Potentially a little mad or not, Celestia seemed regal standing over the ruined battlements, watching the work around her, assisting at times with her magic, behaving as a symbol for her hardworking followers, giving them hope, and protecting them even now.
Equestria’s enemies had smelled blood and weakness…
The horribly abused lunar pegasus was a mess. He was covered in bandages, packed with foul smelling poultices, and was suspended from the ceiling by a sling, his legs left dangling. He twitched as Celestia approached, his nostrils flaring.
Celestia looked upon him and felt pity.
“I hear that you are refusing to take in food or water,” Celestia said softly, standing before him, gently touching his snoot with her good wingtip. “I have come to remedy this situation,” she announced.
“No,” groaned Coronach weakly, his voice faint. “I serve you, you do not serve me, I will not allow this indignity,” he wheezed, his voice wet and gurgly.
Celestia pulled a table closer with her magic, and upon the table was a bowl filled with a thin fish paste gruel, which smelled terrible, and a pitcher of water.
“If you wish to behave like a foal, I will oblige you,” Celestia said, her tone implying a final warning.
“Why do you do this?” asked Coronach in a weak soggy whisper.
“You defied me and told me “no” in the passageway leading to the vault,” explained Celestia, feeling a touch of annoyance at the memory. “I do not think that anypony has ever so brazenly defied an order before, or has ever told me no during my time as a Princess.”
“Then I take pleasure in being the first,” grumbled Coronach with a smug sounding sodden wheeze.
Celestia felt a very real flash of anger. Nopony had ever been this insolent to her, other than Luna. It was an uncomfortable feeling that made her feel insecure and a bit afraid. Coronach had no fear of her.
The fish paste was foul smelling and horrid to one who eats plants, and Celestia’s nose crinkled as she dipped a spoon into it, breaking the crust on the surface of the bowl, causing an unpleasant fishy smell to flood the room. She felt herself gagging slightly. She held up the spoon before Coronach and waited for him to open up.
Which of course, he did not do.
“I understand that you cannot see, but there is a spoon that patiently awaits your invitation,” cooed Celestia, her tone gentle, encouraging, and almost motherly.
Coronach’s bandage covered face moved only slightly, his lips pressing together, his nostrils flaring. His body, suspended in the sling, twitched slightly in a few places, causing blossoms of blood to appear on the bandages.
“Fine then, be a foal,” snapped Celestia, her patience wearing thin. Still holding the spoon aloft in her magic, she seized a hold of the tender flesh of Coronach’s nose, digging in and pinching painfully, squeezing for several seconds until Coronach opened his mouth to whimper. When he did, Celestia jammed in the spoon full of fish paste.
Which Coronach promptly spat out, covering Celestia with the foul smelling fishy mess, which clung to her white pelt, looking greyish pink and disgusting.
“I must assume that you know what you did,” muttered Celestia, now very annoyed and slightly angry.
“I live to serve, not to be served,” replied Coronach, still spitting fishy bits out, the sounds of his breathing laboured and heavy with pain. “And I will die knowing that I served.”
“Very well my little pony of noble servitude, I command you to eat,” Celestia demanded.
There was no reply, no response, Coronach lapsed into silence and his mouth was pressed closed. The only sound he made was his burbling breathing.
Celestia wanted to stomp her hoof in anger and begin shouting. She had very little experience in this situation. She could not threaten with flogging, she could not command, she could not reason with this big dumb shaggy brute that was thwarting her efforts.
It was entirely infuriating.
The spoon was readied with a new bite of fish paste gruel and Celestia seized down cruelly upon Coronach’s nostrils, squeezing relentlessly and ruthlessly, waiting for his mouth to open.
Which it did not.
Coronach mewled and whimpered pitifully, his broken body now gone beyond the point of being able to deal a pain in his tender snoot. The sounds he made were heartbreaking.
Celestia realised with some great degree of shame that she had done something that Nightmare Moon had not done to this noble guard… She had broken him. With a single snoot pinch. She felt truly awful, she could feel the guilt settling into her heart and letting her know that she was a terrible pony, but she did not relent. Not now. A contest of wills had been joined and Celestia would only know victory, as she had done with every other challenge in life.
Finally, his mouth opened and Celestia rammed the spoon in, turned it sideways to spill its contents, pulled it out, and then forced his jaws closed with her magic, all in one swift smooth movement.
Coronach did not swallow.
Celestia, feeling terrible burning shame and regret, her emotions still raw from dealing with Luna, made the heart rending decision to pinch his nostrils shut and then had to wait for his need to draw air.
A healthy lunar pegasus could endure many minutes without air, capable of flying above the air at the edges of space.
Coronach was not healthy, but he was stubborn. After several agonising minutes, he swallowed and then Celestia allowed his mouth to open so he could breath in much needed air.
“I hate you,” he gasped.
Celestia was at a complete loss for how to respond. Nopony had ever said that, other than Luna. A few griffons had, a dragon or two, but in general, ponies were far too afraid to ever utter those words. And those words stung Celestia discovered. She found herself recoiling away from the guard as his harsh words.
She readed the spoon, preparing to begin this process again, when there was a distinct sound of running water, followed by a few wet sounding splats. Coronach whimpered once again, his nostrils flaring, and Celestia realised that something had fallen into the wide basin located below Coronach’s backside.
Celestia came to the painful conclusion that he had probably been holding it this whole time, waiting for her to leave, and her torturous feeding had eroded his ability to hold back. Even in this state, the guard had clung to his dignity, never saying anything, never speaking of his need, just holding back and hoping he could endure.
She heard the distinct sound of weeping, an unmistakable sound, and felt a stabbing pain go through her heart. The lunar pegasi was now broken in body and mind, and Celestia was responsible.
Again, she thought of something that she had done, something that her sister, for all her cruelty, had not done. The guard slung before her was now broken and ashamed.
Celestia felt sick, but remained dedicated to her course of action.
“You will need to be cleaned so the skin does not fester and turn ulcerous,” she whispered, realising all too well that she was about to inflict even more hurt and humiliation upon one who had served her so selflessly, so faithfully. She burned with ignominy and humiliation.
Celestia pulled a basin of fresh water to her, filled it with water, and then moved around to Coronach’s backside. Taking up a clean folded cloth from the pile nearby, placed upon a chest, she began to clean the whimpering and weeping guard, his body twitching away from her magical touch, the sounds he made were heart rending.
“I’m sorry,” Celestia said in a strained sob of her own. “But this needs to be done, and I am the only one present at the moment.” Celestia checked her work, making sure the flesh was left clean, worried that sickness and rot would set in.
After a moment of composure, she resumed her task of trying to feed Coronach, only to discover that he still refused to accept the spoon.
“Damn you!” Celestia growled, hating him for making her endure this, tears now flooding down her cheeks, her face burning with shame, regret, and fury.
Celestia resigned herself to her fate, callously pinching down upon his nose with her magic, feeling her own heart bleed as she was forced to apply pressure once again. In the back of her mind, she realised that she was not thinking about her sister’s betrayal, and was thankful for this distracting task.
Author's Note
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Heat Stroke stood at attention, waiting for Celestia to address him. She stood once again upon the battlements, overseeing the evacuations, looking troubled and unsettled. She had been nursing Coronach now for several days, and she had just come away from a feeding session not too long ago.
A tower had completely fallen over during the night, tearing away the wall and crumbling part of the outer barracks. It had left behind a terrible mess, and contributed greatly to the destabilisation of the now ruined castle. The collapsing tower had killed over two dozen guards, Nightmare Moon’s rampage was still claiming lives.
The empire was in ruins. The long night, the impossibly long night, with its freezing temperatures had killed many, mostly foals and the elderly. A sizeable portion of an entire generation of foals were now gone, the damage unimaginable and catastrophic. That generation of foals was needed… so many had died already from Discord, from Sombra, from the terrible griffon war.
This conflict would probably further shrink their borders, weakening the small fragile nation of Equestria. The Unicorn Range was already threatening civil war, only a day ago the ruling heads of the ruling unicorn families saying that Celestia was unfit to rule, and communications had been severed not long afterward. The unicorns had done well during the long night, having their magic to sustain them. The pegasi were well suited to cold, but their young had suffered. The earth ponies, the ponies who fed the land, had suffered the most and their numbers had been greatly reduced.
The situation seemed unsustainable.
“Heat Stroke?” asked Celestia, now turning her attention to the guard beside her.
“Majesty, I have a report. I, uh, have a troubling report. Your Majesty, there is some things I need to tell you that you will find most unnerving and quite painful,” announced Heat Stroke, agonising on his report, knowing that Celestia had suffered so much already.
“Do not mince words Heat Stroke. Report,” commanded Celestia, her wings slumping slightly, her back sinking, her posture one of extreme fatigue.
“The last of the Nightmare Moon loyalists were tracked to their hidden cave. They fortified themselves inside of the underground cavern. A wall had been built and a gate as well. We began to lay siege to the fortifications to root them out, and then we noticed that there was no sounds coming from within. When the unicorns forced the gate open, nothing moved to engage us in battle. The cavern was filled with the stench of death,” Heat Stroke reported, his wings twitching, unable to follow protocol and keep his own hooves still.
Celestia squirmed visibly, made a gagging sound deep in her barrel, and let out a strangled cry. Her eyes clenched shut and yet more tears stained her cheeks, there had been so many tears as of late.
“Hundreds took their own lives your Highness. Some kind of highly toxic cave fungus that is poisonous even to them. Mostly mares and foals. So… so many foals your Majesty. The Honour Guard is working even now to recover them, give them the respect they deserve, and, uh… put them to bed with the gentle love and decency that they did not have in life. If it is any consolation, there were some survivors. A few foals that hid and did not eat the fungus. One of them in particular will be of great interest to you I beleive,” Heat Stroke explained, his voice cracking many times as he spoke, his own face streaked with tears, his lip quivering from emotion.
Celestia looked at him quizzically, but said nothing.
“There is a foal named Threnody. She asks about the fate of her father. She already knows the fate of her mother,” Heat Stroke said quietly. “We have made the foals comfortable, we are holding them, gently, they have suffered enough. I had to deliver a fierce beating to one of the guards who wanted to kill them. I suspect that said guard will not live through the coming night,” he finished, his armor creaking as he lowered his head.
Celestia quickly made the connection, Coronach and Threnody both being types of funeral songs. Her legs wobbled, she lost her balance and staggered, a pained cry escaping her lips, her good wing going out, seeking support, and finding Heat Stroke, who wedged himself against Celestia’s side, attempting to hold up the much larger mare.
Heat Stroke failed and both took a tumble down to the stones of the battlement walks, Celestia landing on Heat Stroke, and then lying very still, weeping bitterly. Heat Stroke lay crushed, but dared not complain, his armor creaking and screeching with strain, cutting deeply into his flesh. Somehow, he did not cry out.
After several torturous moments, Celestia rolled away, falling over onto her other side, her head upon the stones. She made no attempt to rise or regain her hooves. Several pegasi landed around her upon the battlements, all of them looking quite worried. Heat Stroke struggled to his feet, blood trickling from many places, his armor crimped and biting into his flesh in many places. The pegasi solemnly stood around their fallen monarch, looking pained and afraid.
“Fetch Festus,” Heat Stroke commanded.
One of the pegasi took wing and flew off after nodding his head briefly.
A few more pegasi landed, mares, wearing ill fitting armor.
It had come to this. Mares had been pulled away from grieving families and placed in armor, conscripted into the ranks. Family, a precious and valuable asset, a much needed asset, was now being dipped into as well. There was almost nothing left of the empire, and everything now was just scraping the barrel and last ditch efforts. Equestria was circling the sump hole.
Privately, Heat Stroke believed that Equestria would be reduced to a city state republic, Canterhorn Fortress being the last available asset. The Everfree counties were being overrun by fierce unstoppable plants that had to be constantly burned and battled to hold them back from the Palace of the Royal Pony Sisters. The Unicorn Range threatened secession and civil war. The pegasi of Cloudsdale were strangely quiet, no messengers, no missives, no reinforcements had arrived from them since before the long night.
Heat Stroke took his oath seriously, and had already made peace to go down with the empire if need be. He stepped forward and bravely did the unthinkable, he pressed his snoot into Celestia’s neck, gently stroking her.
Much to everyponys’ surprise, she responded, her eyelids fluttering, her ears moving, and a low pained cry resonated in her throat.
“Celestia,” Heat Stroke whispered, daring to call her by name, daring to comfort the fallen Sun Goddess, bravely speaking words into the warm flesh of her neck. “Celestia, can you rise? Do you need assistance? I know these are trying times, but we must be resolute. One of the last few precious resources we have is your image as the stalwart defender of ponykind. I know you are hurting, and this conflict has left grievous injury upon your heart, but as your friend, I beg of you to regain your hooves. There are many who have no strength left and need to see you as the shining example that you are for all of us,” he murmured, his words soft and encouraging.
The fallen monarch lurched, her body contorting, moving, her legs kicking. She struggled, her breath a pained grunt escaping her gritted teeth, and slowly rolled over onto her belly, folding her legs beneath her. After a few moments and several deep breaths, she rose, wobbling unsteadily, the remainder of her faithful Solar Guard pressing in all around her, determined that she would not fall again.
“The Sun rises!” a mare cheered, wearing her husband’s armor, lifting her head proudly, drawing strength from seeing her monarch regain her standing.
“Take me at once to the foals,” Celestia commanded, her voice wavering and raspy. “I will see them immediately. They need to understand there is no animosity between us.”
Coronach hung suspended in his sling. Much to his relief, Festus had found pain killing compounds that could overcome his body’s own resistance to chemical substances. His brain was fogged and his body seemed distant.
Pain was his constant companion, and the alchemical brews he drank or the poultices packed into his wounds did not dull it completely. It remained, devouring both his flesh and his will, tearing away at his focus and his gritty determination.
The worst torment through had to be Celestia, and her perverse need to keep him alive. He hated her. With every fibre of his being, he hated her. He was bound to serve her, his own oath inviolate, and, if given the chance, would continue to serve her, but he hated her. And he had told her so. His own guilt hurt far worse than any physical pain. He had said many harsh words to his monarch and had made her cry. Coronach was supposed to protect her from harm, and he had been the one who had hurt her.
The conflict tore away at his mind and caused him no end of torment.
He was blind now, but still able to see in a sense, his echolocation still functioning. The room was empty. Festus had left, called away on some emergency. Festus was a good griffon, and Coronach was proud to know him.
He squirmed slightly in his sling, causing his body to flood with pain as things pulled. He felt weak places on his flesh tear back open.
The damnable mare that was his bane would be back in a few hours to force feed him more fish paste and make him drink water. Loathing burned in him like a furnace. He would continue to resist, and she would continue to attempt to conquer. They were both fiercely proud creatures, and neither would ever admit defeat. If she wanted a fight, she’d get one.
Coronach resolved that he would no longer mention out loud how much he hated her. That seemed to be fighting dirty, and even in this weakened condition, he cared about his honour. Honour that the horrible selfish mare continued to chisel away at, treating him like a foal. Celestia was an intolerable pain in the plot. A snoot pinching intolerable pain in the plot. Many things were acceptable in war, even terrible things, but going for the snoot was just plain dirty, just like kicking a stallion in the potato sack.
And Celestia was clearly a potato sack kicker.
Coronach cursed in the empty room, his voice a strained whisper.
Coronach heard hoofsteps outside of his door, a group, and then heard the click of the door opening. He sniffed, trying to figure out who was visiting.
Celestia of course. Early. Ready to torture no doubt. Festus was there.
And something else.
No.
No, not like this.
Was it her?
A whimpering cry flooded Coronach’s throat and passed through his tortured lips.
“She can’t see me like this!”
Celestia considered the pain filled plea, and looked down at the foal who stood beside her, her eyes wide, her mouth hanging open, her face in a rictus of pain. The foal was soon to be a young adult filly, the last vestiges of her foalhood fading.
Threnody staggered forward, her legs now weak with shock, making clicking sounds, little pops, and whistles.
Coronach hung in his sling, now weeping, completely broken once again, again by Celestia’s actions.
Threnody stumbled forward, finally reaching her father, and touched his nose with her own. She did not cry, but her eyes were squeezed shut, and her wings fluttered with agitation and pain.
“I thought this might comfort you,” Celestia said, her voice filling the room with sounds other than grief.
“She shouldn’t be seeing me like this, I’m not fit to live,” begged Coronach.
Threnody’s backside fell to the floor with a “whump!” and she sat before her parent, still unable to say anything, the smaller lunar pegasus filly completely in shock. She cocooned her face with her wings, hiding herself, and faint guttural sounds came from within her shelter.
After several minutes of crying, her voice drifted out. “Sire, I shame you with my weeping,” she said, her voice raspy and full of gravel.
Moments of comfort and bonding were rare in their militaristic culture, but Coronach wanted more than anything to hold Threnody, to feel her. And he couldn’t. A low wailing moan escaped his throat, a cry suitable for a funeral.
“Kill me,” he begged, “do it now, end this for me I beg of you.”
“Do you not want to live for her?” asked Celestia, taken aback by what she was witnessing, not understanding what she was seeing.
“And leave her with a crippled and blinded millstone around her neck?” Coronach responded.
“Sire, forgive me, I did not follow orders… they made us eat poison. I was cowardly, I ran and hid, I have shamed you… I should not be here and I now regret living. To see you like this is my punishment,” Threnody wailed, now falling to the ground completely, laying on her side, her face still covered.
“Both of you have lived through trying circumstances. Take comfort in one another. Or is your kind incapable of that?” Celestia said, moving forward slowly, seeking to comfort the fallen foal.
“What is to be done with her?” Coronach asked. “She was never a combatant… she…” Coronach’s voice trailed off, not wanting to further shame his offspring.
“I am a coward, fighting makes me frightened and scared and I am a shame to both my parents!” Threnody shrieked from inside her wings.
“I was never ashamed of you,” Coronach confessed in a low whisper. “You had the courage to be different. You stood on your own. Your Majesty, please, what is to be done with her?”
“She will be looked after and treated kindly,” Celestia answered.
“So she is a prisoner,” groaned Coronach, one leg kicking slightly as its bindings.
“I never said that,” Celestia retorted as she reached down and touched the hiding foal with her wingtip. Threnody froze, not moving, falling silent at her touch. “I will not hurt you,” promised Celestia.
Threnody did not respond. She lay as still as stone, not even breathing, not making a single sound.
“Threnody, perhaps you can help me make your father eat?” Celestia asked, lowering her head down near Threnody’s wing cocoon.
“Sire will not eat?” Threnody replied, sniffling slightly from within her shelter.
“He is a stubborn pain in my backside,” Celestia replied.
“He must be made to eat then,” Threnody agreed.
Coronach groaned, realising that Celestia had found allies. He cursed his traitorous offspring, and then he silently resolved to dig in and redouble his efforts.
Author's Note
And there you go folks.
More will come in time, as always.
A griffon considered a pony that was not considered food. Both were predators, savage creatures who survived by any means necessary. Festus eyed the lunar pegasus in the sling, wondering just what to make of Coronach. There were stones that were more reasonable than the blind hairy brute bound in bandages.
Stones that were also a lot softer too, and a lot less durable.
Festus scratched his head, ruffling his own feathers, and then resumed his note taking and diagram sketches. Before him, bandages had been peeled back and a wound was visible, a ragged gash that had torn an opening that went down to the ribs. Festus sketched what he saw carefully, noting the anatomy, the thickness of the bones, the extra layer of fat that existed between the meat and the flesh, cataloguing every detail, just as he had done for so many other wounds that were found on Coronach.
The observant and sharp eyed griffon had already filled several notebooks in a short time, mostly working at night when the others were asleep and there was little else to do. He was a dedicated physician, not only to his patients, but to future patients, future students, and future generations. He was going to leave behind copious notes to make sure that his sworn enemy would be dealt with, even if he was no longer around to do so.
“You seem quiet tonight,” Coronach grumbled, his voice still raspy and weak, straining to come out of his battered and abused throat.
“I am worried, tomorrow night we finally move you. Another wall has fallen, this whole castle crumbles as we speak,” Festus replied, his quill scratching over rough paper. “Tell me my friend, why do you keep resisting? Why must you keep fighting? You have become the very bane of Princess Celestia’s existence. If I didn’t know better, I would say that she is becoming fixated on her visits to feed you. She seems to take a perverse pleasure in making you submit. Why must you be such a beast?”
“He who makes a beast out of himself gets rid of the pain of being a pony,” Coronach replied.
“You and your damnable philosophy!” the griffon snapped in annoyance. “I am not in the mood to engage you in moral combat this evening.”
The bandaged brute gave a weak snort and hung there in sullen silence.
“Wait, are you making Princess Celestia become a beast?” Festus asked, his beak clicking in annoyance as he spoke. “Damn you, you made me take the bait you horrible manipulative brute! Are you trying to take away her pain in some horrible twisted way?”
Coronach said nothing, but sat in silence, doing his best to radiate smugness. He succeeded too, he could hear the griffon’s growing agitation. Several beak clicks, a rustle of feathers, the clack of claws striking together, all of which brought Coronach an immense feeling of satisfaction.
“Even now, you are trying to serve some purpose for her, trying to protect her in some odd perverse way, trying to give her some task that forces her to rise to the occasion and engage herself and her relentless need for conquest. I bet you think you’re clever,” the griffon accused.
The clever pony remained silent, knowing that if he did so, the griffon would keep talking for much of the night and keep him company.
“Threnody, I need your assistance, but I am hesitant to ask you,” Celestia asked of her page.
“Anything you ask, I will do,” Threnody replied, bowing her head.
“Threnody, what if I were to ask you to do something for me that is morally reprehensible?” Celestia said, unable to look at her page as she spoke.
“Well, that would depend what it is your Majesty,” Threnody answered in neutral tones, her eyes darting around and realising that they were completely alone. The guard had left.
“Before I ask you the big question, I’d like to ask a few minor questions. Can you shadow dive? Can you become one with the shadow like most of your kind, insubstantial wisps? Can you go into dreams?” the troubled monarch asked, sounding very uncomfortable.
“I can shadow dive, and do so for several minutes at a time. I do have the gift of dream walking, but it is weak and untrained,” Threnody answered and explained. “I am also have shadow clairaudience. Anywhere the dark lies, I have ears. I am not shadow clairvoyant though, like some rare few.”
“Oh my,” Celestia gasped, in spite of herself. “That is useful.”
“It can be, it allows for survival in dark places,” Threnody admitted.
“I need you to spy for me Threnody,” Celestia said bluntly. “When we arrive at Canterhorn Fortress, there is going to be a delegation of unicorns waiting for us. They want to discuss terms of boundaries as they tear away a piece of my beloved Equestria and break away to form a new land. I need information, anything I can get to use against them and set them against one another if I can.”
“I see,” Threnody whispered in a low voice.
“I hope that you can help me, but if you are unwilling, I hope you can forgive me for placing you in this uncomfortable situation of having to refuse me,” Celestia said, now looking Threnody in the eye.
“I am morally flexible,” Threnody said in a sibilant whisper, her fangs catching her lower lip slightly as she spoke. “I like to keep my morals in the same condition as my body. Flexible. Strong. And adaptive. You have saved my sire, and no matter what you say, I am indebted to you and I will do anything you ask of me. If I am to be your eyes and ears as well as your page, well, I shall do so, and with pleasure.”
Celestia smiled, feeling a deep sense of relief.
“The Sun casts a Shadow,” Threnody said, now smiling as well.
The Solar Monarch rose into the air, riding in a chariot, Coronach held aloft in her magic. She turned, giving one final glance behind her, feeling the sting of tears in her eyes as she did so. Her foalhood home was now a ruin to be abandoned, full of ghosts and bad memories. She had said one final goodbye to Clover, and then she had collapsed the passage, a terrible dread prompting her to take extreme measures.
There were reports of the dead rising.
It was not believable in the slightest, it was just superstitious commoners left troubled by the recent events, but it had filled Celestia with terrible worry. She had sent out trustworthy guards to find out if there was any truth to the rumours though. A monarch could never be too careful.
Threnody flew alongside the chariot for now, knowing that if she became tired she would be allowed to board. Festus sat beside Celestia, eyeing Coronach, worry in his eyes. Heat Stroke flew along the other side of the chariot, his broad wings easily catching the updrafts and sending him soaring.
It was over, home was gone, the empire was in a smoking ruin, and near exile in Canterhorn fortress awaited her. Things looked grim. Things looked worse now than they ever did with Discord. Or Sombra. Equestria was gutted, no enemy had ever been this successful in destroying her beloved country.
Celestia wept as home shrank away into the black woods behind her.
Secure in his new location, Coronach hung, suspended by a sling, now hanging in a balcony door, feeling the moonlight. He had felt it during the entire flight as well. It revitalised him, gave him strength, relieved his pain. Celestia had fed him, and as was usual, he had fought and resisted her. Threnody stood on the balcony, occasionally touching him on the snoot, gently, grateful to have a peaceful moment with her sire. Celestia was in a room nearby, asleep finally, getting some rest before having to lower the moon and raise the sun.
The moonlight was warm and soothing on Coronach’s skin, soaking through the bandages, filling him with a sense of renewed vigour.
“Threnody?” he asked, his voice sounding a little stronger.
“Yes sire?” Threnody asked, turning to look at her father.
“How was your ceremony into pagehood?” Coronach asked, finding himself troubled to try and make small talk with his daughter. He did not want to talk to her, he wanted to hold her.
“Quiet. A few witnesses. A lot of ponies refused to show up. They were quite offended. The nobles that remained loyal to Celestia wanted the spot for their own offspring, and had trouble believing that the Princess would give such a coveted spot to a… “creature” like myself,” Threnody replied.
“Threnody, could you call me ‘father’ or ‘dad’ or something less formal? I know you mean to be respectful, but can’t we just be ourselves around one another?” Coronach asked, his voice a low faint whisper that most ponies would be deaf to and unable to hear.
The lunar pegasus filly studied her parent, quite shocked and stunned at his soft words. Dropping protocol could mean a flogging. She was well past the age where she could get away with using words like ‘dad’ and not be in endless trouble for it.
However, those that enforced protocol were mostly gone. There were so few of them left now. Celestia had the others like them, the young who had survived, secured away, hoping to show kindness and keep them safe.
Her sire’s request was baffling. Threnody had no idea how to respond. “I will do as you request of me father,” she said, finally getting words out.
“Don’t do it because I ask it, do it because you want to and you mean it,” Coronach requested.
“But I am, father. Do not mistake my words. Do you think I am any less stubborn than you? Do you think you could force me into something that I had no desire doing?” Threnody asked.
“I suppose not,” Coronach admitted.
“Father, do you think we can rebuild? Is there any hope for our nation? It saddens me to think that all of this is brought to ruin,” Threnody said, speaking her heart, exposing her vulnerable side in the safety of her father’s presence.
“I want to believe anything is possible,” Coronach answered in gasping wheeze, wishing he could actually see the moon.
In her bed, Celestia dreamed. Instead of earth covered in dead withered plants, things were green once again. The grass was soothing and cool against her fetlocks and upon her frogs. There was dew in the grass, and droplets clung to her legs as she walked through the tall fronds. The trees were green and full of of life. It was the dark hour just before dawn, when the birds were chirping and letting the world now that the sun was coming.
Her home was whole again, her foalhood home, perfect and new, each tower, each wall, each section back in place, golden light illuminating the windows, indicating those who were the early risers. She walked among the grounds, overjoyed, so happy to have everything back again.
She saw Luna, Luna as she once was, carefree and smiling again, before the darkness took her, Luna as she was before Discord’s torture and Sombra’s terrible assault. Luna was frolicking in the tall grass, laughing her musical laugh, carefree and trying to get her sister to play with her, her wings spread out and fluttering.
Before Celestia’s eyes, Luna began to change, warping, twisting, becoming the bitter and hate filled mare that she had become, her smile now gone, her merry eyes darkened with rage and fury, her joyful face a twisted parody of what it once was. Blackness began to creep along her skin, starting from her hooves, slowly traveling up her legs.
Coronach appeared, still whole in body, moving swiftly, his destiny mark visible in the light now streaming from Luna’s horn. The sun and the moon, each one a half that made a whole, with a starburst of silver light in the background. Coronach moved swiftly, impossibly fast, the sort of speed only his kind were capable of as they moved through shadow.
Celestia stood frozen, unable to move, unable to stop what she was seeing.
Now glowing with fierce intensity, Luna’s horn pointed straight at Celestia, right as Coronach slammed into her, bowling her over. The magical burst flew wide and missed Celestia, striking the palace instead, leaving it in ruins. As it crumbled down, the sun rose.
Terrible screams came from Coronach as he ignited, bursting into flames as the sun touched his skin,. Luna exploded into ashes, blowing away in the breeze, everything the ashes touched crumbled and died, the whole forest around them dying and turning grey. The grass died as the ashes swirled above. Everything went dead as Luna’s ashes passed near.
With a final terrible gasp, Coronach expired, leaving behind blackened bones and little else when the flames finally died down.
It began to rain bones. Pony bones. They fell from the heavens by the thousands. The sun rose on a dead lifeless world where bones rained down from the sky and nothing lived. Nothing but Celestia.
Celestia awoke screaming.
Threnody had reached her first, standing beside her bed as the guard came into her room in force, looking around, trying to find a threat. Several eyed Threnody with concern, but none with open contempt.
In her bed, Celestia did not look well, sweating heavily, panting, her pupils faint pinpricks, and she had done what many considered unthinkable, flooding her own bed with urine.
Nopony said a word.
Being female, and having good strong female sensibilities, Threnody began to herd the male members of the guard out of the room, hissing at them and baring her fangs, prodding them gently with her wings when they balked. The female members of the guard, wearing poorly fitting armor, realised what Threnody was doing and moved to assist her, hoping to recover their Monarch’s dignity. It took some time, but eventually the room was cleared.
The room itself was sparse, barely decorated, but quite large. It had been a barracks at one point, and had been repurposed to be Celestia’s quarters, with an addition for Coronach to to be close by.
“Prepare a bath for her you dimwits!” Threnody hissed, her mood soured beyond repair. She had no official capacity for command, but her martial culture gave her the ultimate air of authority.
The female pegasi moved to another room, pulling down a large heavy copper basin from a hook on the wall, and then made a call for water to be brought. Pegasi flew to Celestia’s balcony, bearing buckets, which were taken by the female pegasi and poured into the copper tub.
“Your Majesty, a bath is being prepared for you, we will need your magic to heat it,” Threnody said, gently touching Celestia with her hoof.
Celestia rolled over, opened her eyes, and looked at Threnody, wiping her cheeks with a forelock. Tears stained her face. She looked nothing at all like the regal monarch that she was, she looked like a scared foal that had seen some horror lurking in the shadows. She had the hiccups, and she made unladylike noises with each hitch of her barrel, faint belching noises as she tried to draw breath.
“I saw Coronach die,” Celestia said in between hiccups.
“Just a dream your Highness, nothing more,” Threnody soothed.
“No, it was more than a dream… the sun rose. It destroyed him and my sister, and everything the ashes touched died and withered,” Celestia sobbed, now crying again.
“Come now, let us get you out of bed and into the big copper tub for a soak. You’ll feel better. It always feels good to clean up,” Threnody said, trying to coax Celestia from her bed.
A pair of unicorn maids entered the room, groggy with sleep, armed with fresh linens and cleaning supplies.
“Stay with me, “ Celestia begged of the lunar pegasi by her bed.
“Of course your Majesty,” Threnody reassured.
“Save me from the dark,” Celestia whimpered.
Threnody felt quite unnerved seeing the large white alicorn reduced to this level. Alicorns were proud and noble creatures, beings of immense power and grace. And this one seemed more like the common pony at the moment.
It was a bothersome thought.
“I will do whatever it is required of me to ensure your comfort,” Threnody promised, her voice a soothing whisper she reserved for when she was watching foals and guarding the rookery.
Celestia rose unsteadily, her legs weak and wobbling. Several pegasi females moved to assist her, saying nothing, their faces grim with determination.
One of the maids heated the water in the tub, saving Celestia the trouble. It was half full, and the bucket brigade had ceased its activities.
Celestia carefully stepped in and sank down, the tub almost too small for her body. She sat down first, and then lowered in her barrel, leaving only her neck sticking up out of the water.
“Thank you,” she said, closing her eyes.
Threnody stood watch, keeping the terrors of the night away.
Author's Note
This story comes slowly.
Some stories, like The Chase, coming pouring out. This one has to be teased. I have sections done inside of my head, but not all sections.
This story takes a lot more effort to craft than some of my other works. I really have to try and get inside of Celestia's head and try to see the world as she might have saw it to tell a story, and that is no easy task.
Been studying a little bit about crumbled empires.
“Festus?”
The griffon lifted his head from his work and looked up at the lunar pegasus addressing him. Coronach was getting better. Slowly but surely. The moonlight had done wonders.
“Festus, what do you know about oaths?” Coronach asked.
“I know enough to know that you should never swear one,” Festus replied, setting down his quill and his notebook so he could turn his full attention to Coronach. Coronach was interesting when he was in the mood to talk.
“I think I made a mistake Festus,” Coronach said, his voice sounding much better, the past week had seen much progress.
“How so?” Festus asked, genuinely curious.
“I swore an oath of duty as a guard and I changed the words around a bit. Each guard has the option to write his own vows,” Coronach answered.
“Ugh,” the griffon grunted, seeing where this might be going. “You big dumb lummox, what did your oath promise?”
“I swore to defend both Princesses with my life for as long as I drew breath. The standard oath states that you serve until death claims you. Princess Luna sliced me open and I made the blood oath of service before her and Princess Celestia,” Coronach explained thoughtfully.
The griffon flinched and clutched his own beak in disgust.
“I cannot seem to stop breathing,” Coronach said sadly.
“The griffons believe that oaths have their own magic, created by the fervent belief of those who swear them. There are stories, bad stories, of griffons bound by oaths, forced to keep going until the conditions of their oath are met,” Festus said, his beak clacking together a few times as he spoke.
“Do you actually believe that?” Coronach asked.
“I live in a world with magic. Magic that can break the natural laws. I am required to believe in almost anything because of this factor,” Festus replied, now studying one of his talons.
“I never understood most magic much. I have my own, but I am not particularly gifted. I can shadow dive, and shadow wink, and that is about it. I am not very good at either,” Coronach stated. “The only thing I really know is to go for the unicorns first and crush them. Or whatever the magical threat might be.”
“Yeeaaargh, barbaric. Violence,” Festus said, wincing.
“You and Threnody both feel the same way,” Coronach said.
“I like Threnody. A lot. She is a most interesting pony. I suppose she gets some of that from her father,” Festus said, now studying Coronach once again.
“I am very thankful that she is still alive,” Coronach confessed.
Papers and scrolls were piled everywhere. Celestia sat in study, trying to determine what she had left. The Unicorn Range was currently breaking away, slowly, one piece at a time. The Everfree county was gone, consumed by the wood and the devastation to the palace.
Canterhorn was not a good place to grow food, and a shortage was looming. The mountain fortress, perhaps the final resting place of Equestria, was not a self sufficient location.
Food was badly needed. The Unicorn Range had food. The unicorn nobles had plenty of earth ponies working for them and the Unicorn Range had some of the best farmland available.
Celestia needed leverage, some way to keep the Unicorn Range loyal. She had none. There was nothing to work with. The delegation of unicorns here at Canterhorn Fortress were making increasingly difficult commands, and Celestia was tempted to simply crush them all with an impressive display of force. Just obliterate them all and be done with it.
She understood that such an action would make her no better than Nightmare Moon. She had to find another way. And she was at a loss for what to do. She needed some way to set the nobles against one another.
Celestia needed some way to make the ponies follow her because they wanted to, not because they were forced to. Equestria had to survive through consensus, and Celestia did not wish to become a despot.
The entire empire hung by a thread.
Feeling disgusted with the situation and lacking ideas, Celestia went to the one of the few ponies that she felt that she could truly trust in these trying times.
“Coronach, could I speak to you?” Celestia asked.
“You need not ask. It is my place to serve,” Coronach replied.
“Then take food you stubborn brute!” Celestia snapped, already feeling very frustrated and angry.
“No,” Coronach replied.
“I do not understand you,” Celestia said.
Coronach did not reply.
“I need your advice,” Celestia said.
“I am not qualified to be your advisor,” Coronach protested.
“I have seen your service record. You are clever when the need arises and I trust you,” Celestia replied, settling onto a cushion and looking at the lunar pegasus suspended in a sling.
Once again, Coronach did not reply.
“I need a way to bring the Unicorn Range in line, without force. I need them to want to follow me. We need food. I must begin to rebuild my empire,” Celestia stated, looking at Coronach’s battered face.
Something about his withered and grizzled muzzle… she found it attractive. And somewhat distracting. He was horribly scared, but he had survived and endured. Celestia liked solid things. Much like she liked Canterhorn Fortress.
She shooed the distracting thoughts from her mind an focused on the task at hoof, the impossible task of rebuilding Equestria.
“What you need is an enemy they cannot defeat,” Coronach suggested.
“What?” Celestia said, looking very startled.
“A boogeypony. Something dark and horrible. Something they know is there, but intangible and out of reach. Something threatening and dangerous enough to make them want to seek your help, but not enough to hurt them. Just make them think that harm is coming,” Coronach said.
“That’s…”
“Devious?” Coronach interrupted.
“Do… do… do you have ideas?” Celestia stammered hesitantly.
“Of course I have some great ideas. I have done this for Princess Luna,” Coronach confessed.
“You have?” Celestia said in surprise.
“What you need are a small troupe of lunar pegasi, the dark of night, and superstitious peasants. Make the peasants believe that the shadows hunt them. They’re easy to spook. Scare them, and keep scaring them, offer some proof of something horrible lurking, and let the fear creep in. When the peasants revolt, the unicorn nobles will come running to you,” Coronach explained. “Worked for Princess Luna in the outer territories.”
“That’s terrible,” Celestia hissed. “I cannot believe my sister would do that!”
“I am no position to do this for you, but you do have the surviving lunar pegasi young and Threnody,” Coronach suggested.
“This is monstrous!” Celestia protested.
“You haven’t said no,” Coronach pointed out.
“What you are suggesting is…”
“What you need to do if you want to save what is left?” Coronach blurted out.
Celestia fell silent and considered the big shaggy brute. Everything he suggested was an awful idea, abusive, manipulative, and wrong. And possibly, completely necessary. She hated him a little bit for saying it, hated him a little more for making her consider it, and really hated him for how quiet and smug he had seemed to become at the moment, allowing her to stew.
“What do I need to do exactly?” Celestia said in a low defeated whisper.
She listened in horror as Coronach explained everything that would need to be done to begin a good campaign of terror to bring the wayward ponies running home. Word after awful word come out his mouth, and he suggested things she could do with her magic. Wilted crops, spoiled grain, wells turned into bitter water, all things considered ill omens and caused by the shadowy terrors.
Worst of all, Celestia began to make her own plans that would make this a truly horrifying gambit.
Dark magic. Forbidden. Taboo. The spellbook before her was bound in leather. Real leather. From some poor creature’s skin. It sickened Celestia to look at it. It had Sombra’s sigul on it, a curved red horn and a black crescent.
Was she willing to sink this low?
She supposed that she was, otherwise she wouldn’t even be considering it. She would do anything to save her empire. She pulled open the cover of the book with her magic, feeling sick and disgusted by the feeling of the leather as her will touched it. She could feel the wrongness of it through her magic. The ink was made from blood and who knows what else, and the book stank of awful things long dead. She flipped through several pages.
“Fear fog,” she read out loud, her brow furrowed. “Hmm, this creates a mist that travels over the land and gives sleepers dreadful night terrors.”
She turned a few more pages, her ears splayed out sideways on her head.
“Lurking horrors,” she muttered. “Creates an atmosphere of terror, with small terrifying figures that always lurk in the corners of your vision,” Celestia summarised, reading through the long description.
“Lake demons, ooh, this sounds awful,” Celestia murmured to herself. “Causes viewers who look into bodies of water to see horrifying images peering back at them.”
Celestia paused, considering what it was she was about to do. There would be no turning back from this course of action. She would not place the lunar pegasi survivors at risk, so this meant shouldering the burden of this grim task on her own shoulders, and potentially living with the consequences. She believed she had the willpower to use dark magic and resist its consuming call. She could succeed where others had failed. She was Celestia, Princess of the Sun, now sole Monarch of Equestria.
Which was a fortress perched on top of a tall mountain and little else.
“Terror’s torment,” she read to herself, “causes a unicorn to have terrible visions every time magic is used, leading to eventual madness.”
Inside of this book were spells that could rip apart the stability of the Unicorn Range. Once she brought them back into line, she could put this book away and never use it again. Once she had the Unicorn Range again, she would have food and a working resource base to rebuild the army, and then she could push forward through good old fashioned conquest.
She peered at the book.
Dark magic could offer conquest with no more soldiers dying.
Celestia gnawed her lip and flipped backwards a couple of times.
“Phantasmic hunters,” Celestia whispered. “Creates an illusionary army of headless ponies that radiate fear… oh this sounds promising. An army that doesn’t need food and cannot be hurt.”
Celestia began to carefully study the spidery words of magic, taking note of the many pronunciation guides helpfully scribbled in the margins. The spell didn’t seem all that complicated, summoning the dark magic was the real trick.
Just a little dark magic.
Just enough to get through the rough patch and see her through until she could build another standing army, something she could use to push her borders from one coast to another, and drive north and south.
It would have to be her sacrifice. Others had already sacrificed so much. And this could save so many lives she reasoned. She could live with herself, or so she believed.
And then, she realised the Unicorn Range wouldn’t be enough. No, this wouldn’t do at all. Cloudsdale was drifting away and she needed pegasi. They were the backbone of the army.
So, the Unicorn Range and Cloudsdale. Secure food and a working tax base, and then a place to gather conscripts. And then, no more dark magic, the book and others like it could be secured away and victory could be achieved the hard way. The hard way that always took so many lives.
Celestia pondered the book.
How many lives could be saved?
So many.
She was strong enough. She was above such petty concerns. She wasn’t weak like the others who had fallen before. She was the conqueror. She had once led an army into Tartarus, destroyed a demon lord, and then battled her way back out after most of her army had been killed in battle.
She had nothing to fear. She had unbreakable will.
With renewed interest, she began to study Sombra’s spellbook.
Author's Note
I used my own experiences with heroin to draw inspiration for Celestia's new struggle with dark magic.
I mean, we've seen it in the show. She learned it somewhere, right?
Coronach carefully put one hoof in front of the other and took a step. Most of his weight was being held aloft by Celestia’s magic. His steps were slow, cautious, and jerky. Being exposed to moonlight nightly had allowed for a rate of healing that confounded poor Festus, and left poor Festus unable to explain the phenomena. Bones knitted, flesh closed, and finally, Coronach was capable of feeding himself for the first time, something everypony had celebrated when it happened.
It was now the dead of winter, several months after the terrible autumn night when Nightmare Moon had rampaged.
And it was said, she was still rampaging.
The Mare in the Moon was now haunting Equestria. She plagued dreams, tormented minds, caused madness, caused all manner of catastrophe, and lurked behind every shadow. The problem had become so terrible that the unicorns of the Unicorn range had turned to Celestia and were now begging her for help.
And Celestia had left them to flounder for a while, holed up in mighty Canterhorn Fortress, seemingly out of reach of the terrors down below. Canterhorn was an island of stability, peace, and calm among the nightmarish realm that was the Unicorn Realm now. The ponies below lived now in a constant state of panic..
Coronach took one more trembling step.
“Coronach, you have already given so much, but I must ask a little more from you,” Celestia said hesitantly.
Threnody raised her head from her book. She was sitting by the fire reading, occasionally watching her father’s progress through her heterochromic condition, one eye orange, the other yellow, both glittering in the firelight.
“If you ask, I will give,” Coronach grunted. “All I have for you and more, as I have sworn by my oath.”
“I need somepony suitable for marriage,” Celestia confessed.
The room fell completely silent. Coronach stood frozen, his sightless eye focused on some unknown point on the wall. Festus set his book down upon a table and stared at Celestia. Threnody stared at her father. And Heat Stroke, already knowing of this gambit, now watched and waited to see what would happen next.
“The unicorn nobles are placing me under a lot of pressure to marry in exchange for aid and mutual assistance. It is not something I want. You are the Hero of Nightmare Night, and, as such, you have more than enough right to ask for my hoof in marriage, according to the laws and old traditions. You are a decorated war hero. If I were to be married to you, they could no longer try to maneuver me into an unwanted political marriage and we can continue the re-unification,” Celestia said, briefly explaining the situation.
“So I am to protect you from marriage,” Coronach replied. “If you order it, I will do it.”
“I cannot order you to do this. I will not give this as an order,” Celestia said.
“Ah, well then, remember all those times you pinched my snoot?” Coronach asked. “All those times you tortured me and humiliated me?”
“I did that for your own good,” Celestia replied, her tone one of intense worry. She continued to hold the shaggy lunar pegasus aloft, and would keep doing so, even if his answer was unpleasant. She owed him that. She began to gnaw on her own lip with worry. A trickle of sweat ran down her neck.
“I am going to spend the rest of my life making you miserable for what you’ve done. I understand that this isn’t a real marriage,” Coronach wheezed. “It will be in name only. I will serve.”
Celestia took a deep breath and let it out in a huff.
Coronach took one more step forward, his knees trembling as he struggled to make his body move, and Celestia continued to hold him up, keeping most of his weight off of his hooves.
Later, privately, Coronach rested in his bed, covered in blankets, his head on a large soft pillow. He was exhausted and his limbs trembled from over-exertion, Celestia sat by his bedside, wiping his face with a damp cloth, trying to comfort the battered warpony.
“It doesn’t have to be a completely cold marriage,” she said in a small unsure voice. “We are friends, are we not? Are we close Coronach? I am trusting you with my life and my body.”
Coronach gave a grunt and tried to shift a bit in the bed, trying to find a comfortable spot.
“Do you want to be returned to your sling? Is the pressure too much?” Celestia asked, worried.
Coronach shook his head with barely noticeable movement and then tried to lay still. He took deep breaths, and thought he would never confess it, greatly enjoyed the white alicorn’s near constant attention and affection she paid him now.
“Luna and I both were to be wed to Sombra before his collapse into total madness. It was not something I was happy about, but it would have been good for Equestria, uniting Equestria and the Crystal Empire. But Sombra changed and went mad. Luna and I had to put him down. You on the other hoof, you annoying lump, you seem as solid and dependable as the bedrock that this fortress is built upon. I must admit, I take great comfort in your dependability. I… I am not sure if I could keep holding it all together without you actually,” Celestia admitted, her words full of uncertainty.
She leaned down and placed her muzzle close to Coronach’s battered tufted ears. “And I would not be above your occasional affections, should you offer them. A hero deserves a kiss now and then,” she said. After the last word left her mouth, she pressed her lips gently to the top of Coronach’s head and kissed him lightly.
“I am horrifically ugly,” Coronach muttered.
“And I do not care,” Celestia said. “I find that it adds to your appeal.”
“I am confused,” Coronach huffed.
“I like your scars. I like things that endure. I like things that last. I like things that survive,” Celestia explained. “And I find myself attracted to things I can trust now as well, which is new for me.”
“Look, I agreed to the marriage, there is no need for further wooing or pretty words to lure me in. You do not need to give me praise to gather me to your cause,” Coronach mumbled.
“I am speaking the words in my heart,” Celestia replied, her tone now somewhat wounded. “I would rather have a marriage based on trust than political leveraging, or even love. Trust endures, and I know that I can trust you.”
“I… I think I understand,” Coronach stammered.
“I have become very close to you,” Celestia confessed. “I have spent every day with you now for so long. I have looked after your every need. I have shared my secrets with you. Asked you for your advice about what to do with the empire. The times where I was sure that I could go no further, I turned to you and you always listened to me and inspired me to keep going.”
The battered lunar pegasus squirmed. Her words landed upon him like hot coals, each one making him very uncomfortable.
“If I wanted to marry, if I were but a common pony, I would want to marry you. You are rare prize,” Celestia said, punctuating her words with another kiss, this time on Coronach’s lips. It was a short sweet peck, nothing more, but it spoke volumes. He gave a grunt of surprise when he felt her touch.
“This is, this is forward,” Coronach protested.
“Does it shock you that I have physical needs, and that sometimes I want more than just words of comfort?” Celestia asked.
“N-n-no,” he replied, his voice trembling.
“I have other needs,” Celestia confessed with a whisper into Coronach’s ear. “I deny them constantly, not having found a pony worthy of my trust. I loved once, was even married, and that trust was broken. I have turned away all physical affection since then. Perhaps some day, when you are well, I may come to you and test your trust.”
“I am a blind cripple,” Coronach protested.
“Do you think that matters? You are healing. You might be blind, but I know you can still see. One day, you will rise from this long period of healing and be well again,” Celestia replied, her breath causing Coronach’s ear to flicker. “When faced with marriage that I do not want, I turned to the one pony I could trust and left my body in his care.”
Celestia stood up and strode towards the balcony, standing in the moonlight. She was radiant, beautiful, the silver light shining on her alabaster pelt. She peered out the window. New construction was taking place, expanding the fortress and further securing their position. This was the new seat of the empire, and Celestia would see it rise from the ashes.
“Your body is sacrosanct, you are a Goddess, I am not fit to touch you,” Coronach protested, his breathing heavy.
“I am still flesh and blood. I am still a mare. I may no longer experience estrus, or be connected to the cycles of life, but I still have feelings. I still want to be needed. I still have all of the insecurities of a mare. I have a heart that can be wounded and bleeds when it is,” Celestia retorted, staring out the window.
“Your Grace, the nobles have not reacted well to ‘Coronach’s announced intentions to claim you as his bride’ and they are protesting, demanding you call off any plans to this end, stating they will withdraw any offers of support,” Heat Stroke reported.
Celestia snorted angrily and her pacing intensified.
“The reports of the Mare in Moon continue to become stranger and more disturbing. It seems that Nightmare Moon is still wreaking havoc from her prison in the moon,” Heat Stroke announced, reading from a piece of parchment.
“The Mare in the Moon will be dealt with in time,” Celestia snapped dismissively. Her wings flapped a bit in annoyance and her ears splayed out sideways.
Heat Stroke studied the large white alicorn. She had not been herself lately. She was agitated. Aggressive. Her patience seemed thin at best, and nonexistent at worst. The only time she showed any of her usual grace and aplomb was when she was around Coronach. Even Festus was growing concerned. The griffon insisted that it was grief and stress. Heat Stroke supposed that it was, but the change of Celestia’s character alarmed him. Part of him wanted to move this conversation into Coronach’s chambers just so Celestia would be a little more… reasonable.
“The Mare in the Moon seems to be plaguing Cloudsdale as well,” Heat Stroke reported. “Pegasi there are experiencing some troubles. Some of have gone mad. The population suffers from a lack of sleep. They are seeking your aid. They have heard about the marriage offers from the unicorn nobles, and wish to counter it with offers from pegasi commanders.”
“I am already betrothed,” Celestia barked.
“Yes, yes you are your Grace. I was merely relaying the message. A group of envoys from Cloudsdale are coming. They are aware of your betrothal, and while they are unhappy about it, if you reject their proposals, they would prefer that you do marry Coronach, a pegasus, rather than a unicorn,” Heat Stroke said in diplomatic tones.
“I do not give a damn about what they prefer,” Celestia grumbled.
“Your Majesty, are you well?” Heat Stroke questioned bluntly.
“I am under a lot of pressure, do forgive me Heat Stroke. If I am short with you I am sorry,” Celestia apologised.
“Celestia, I worry about you a great deal,” Heat Stroke said, breaking protocol, his face flooding with emotion. “You are my friend, and I would be remiss in my duties as a friend and as your second in command if I did not express my concern.”
Celestia visibly slumped. “I am sorry commander. Do continue.”
“The unicorns are sending us more provisions now that they know that the pegasi are courting us for political gain. They are also sending a contingent of unicorn smiths, masters of their craft, to forge weapons and armor. The Unicorn Range wizard’s guild is sending a blessing of gifted unicorns to bolster our ranks and provide protection. The earth ponies send a message that they approve of your marriage to the Hero of Nightmare Night, stating that it sends a strong message that with hard work and dedication, anypony can achieve greatness, and they appreciate the message that such a marriage would convey,” Heat Stroke reported.
“That is unexpected. The earth ponies I mean. I did not think that anypony would actually approve of my plan. That is comforting,” Celestia replied, still looking ruffled.
“Your standing with the earth ponies is quite good right now. Better than ever before. They have always felt somewhat slighted, this could be a means to build a strong rapport with them. They too, are sending envoys,” Heat Stroke announced. “They have formed their own guard unit and are sending it to you as gift.”
“For some reason Heat Stroke, I am strongly comforted by that. I have always wondered how to reach the earth ponies and make them feel like equals,” Celestia admitted.
“Well, marrying a common salt speaks to them,” Heat Stroke replied with a smile.
Author's Note
Political wrangling.
Celestia blaming her sister for the dark magic attacks.
Delightful.
“Your Majesty, there are more reports of an amassing army of headless ponies that gallop through the farmlands of the Unicorn Range. These reports are coming from reputable sources, ponies of strong character and good reputation. Lord Granite’s mane has turned white from what he saw and he is willing to testify under oath that there are headless abominations running rampant through the county. More reports come in daily of strange creatures lurking in the lakes and waterways. It seems that your sister is wreaking havoc from her lunar prison. The best unicorn wizards of our age seem to be powerless to do anything about your sister’s continued rampage,” Heat Stroke reported.
Celestia held Coronach aloft in her magic, watching as he continued to take shaky steps. He was able to hold more of his weight now. Spring was now in full bloom. Winter Wrap Up had been concluded only a few weeks ago. Coronach scowled as pain shot up and down his legs and through his body, but he did not cry out. As he walked, he flapped his wings weakly. No bandages were left on his body, and he was mostly whole again. Moonlight and the best care that Festus could muster had done wonders for the lunar pegasus.
“I do not know how to stop my sister’s continued magical assaults,” Celestia admitted in defeated tones.
“We have troubling reports of unicorns going mad as they cast spells, trying to find some solution to the troubles we face. The nobles are desiring to speak with you about seeking aid. The peasantry revolts against them. There are riots. I do believe they desire to be brought back into the fold. Cloudsdale is suffering as well. It is difficult to describe what is going on there. They are under siege from invisible imps or some other type of low visibility creatures,” Heat Stroke divulged.
“Arrange a meeting. Seems as though they will be willing to discuss terms soon enough,” Celestia commanded. “Threnody, report.”
“Your Grace, I have much to tell you. Lord Autumn Night is secretely having incestious relations with his sisters. I do believe that a proving blood spell is in order for many foals within that family. The accusation alone will likely level what is left of their noble house, but actual proof should completely devastate them. I… stumbled into this information as two of the sisters stayed here during the last round of discussions. They spoke openly in their chambers about their frequent rutting and how Lord Autumn Night has given them both genital warts. Several of the noble houses are plotting to assassinate Lord Copperlocke, who is openly sympathetic to your cause. They discussed this matter here, in Canterhorn Fortress, whilst enjoying the new bathhouse recently constructed. Lord Silverstar works to find allies to aid him in poisoning one of your future banquets so you will take the blame and unicorns everywhere can see your treachery,” Threnody announced.
“I take it that you have already been hard at work with solutions my dear and trusted Threnody?” Celestia asked.
“Yes, of course your Grace,” Threnody replied.
“Do I want to know anything about those solutions?” Celestia questioned.
“Well, Lord Silverstar is going to have a most unfortunate situation of events where the poison he precured in going to end up in his own kitchen…”
“No more!” interrupted Celestia. “I cannot bear to hear this, I trust that what is absolutely necessary is being done.”
“Yes, your Grace, of course,” Threnody said with a bow.
“Threnody… how do you… approve of these actions?” Celestia queried.
“I do not approve of these actions. I am merely the messenger. It bothers me a great deal that I know as much as I do. However, I also understand that we live during extenuating times. As much as I do not like what is happening, I understand that certain things must happen,” Threnody answered, choosing her words carefully and looking very distressed as she spoke. She blinked several times, her ears falling sideways along her head.
“I suppose only history will be able to tell if we were right or wrong,” Celestia whispered sorrowfully.
Threnody walked to her father’s side and nosed him, an openly affectionate gesture rarely ever seen among the lunar pegasi. Coronach gave a grunt in reply and kept working at his walk, moving in a slow circle around the room. His joints creaked and popped with each step. She kept pace with him, walking with him, occasionally prodding him with her wing knuckle.
“More and more of the pegasi seem to be in favour of your marriage to Coronach,” Threnody reported. “The earth ponies overwhelmingly approve of your action. The unicorns are going to attempt legal wrangling to try and block it, and then attempt to use political leverage to force you into marriage with somepony loyal and favourable to the unicorn cause.”
“I figured the military clans of the pegasi would approve in time,” Heat Stroke commented.
“And speaking solely for myself, I approve of this union as well. Don’t you scowl like that father!” Threnody said, poking her father with a wing-tip. “You get that grumpy look off of your face this instant you rancid old goat!”
“Ugh, you are insufferable,” Coronach growled, stumbling slightly as he continued his walk. His entire body was covered in sweat and he trembled with each halting step.
“I understand that this marriage is political, but please, do try to make sure my father is as miserable as possible,” Threnody requested.
“Threnody!” Coronach barked.
Celestia laughed, a rare sound these days, throwing back her head and letting go. She laughed and laughed, until she finally began to heave, and then chuckled as she tried to suck in air. She retreated to a large sofa and settled her body down upon the cushions.
Heat Stroke felt better hearing her laughter, and even managed to laugh a bit himself, which was getting rarer and rarer these days.
“I cannot do this any more,” Coronach gasped, slumping in defeat, hanging in midair, suspended in a golden glow.
“You did well father, each day you walk a little longer and take on a little more weight,” Threnody praised.
The night was full of thunder and fury. Threnody sat upon the floor staring out the window, watching the raindrops trickle down the glass. Nearby, sitting with her in her quarters, was an earth pony colt named Hickory. Hickory watched Threnody’s statuesque form, observing her every movement, keeping his eyes on her tufted ears in particular, which fascinated him.
“Doesn’t the thunder scare you?” Hickory asked.
“No,” Threnody replied.
“Doesn’t us getting caught scare you?” Hickory questioned.
“Not in particular. I refuse to believe that what we are doing is wrong,” she answered. Her ears twitched during a bright flash and then perked forward during the crackling rumble that followed.
“But you are you, and I am an earth pony, and you are Celestia’s page and I work for the quartermaster pulling wagons all day,” Hickory stated thoughtfully.
“So?” Threnody asked.
“I don’t know. I am scared I guess,” Hickory confessed.
“You should be scared… of me,” Threnody reminded.
“Oh, I am, believe me. Every time I see you smile I think about the first time I saw you smile,” Hickory replied.
“And you pissed yourself,” Threnody teased.
“Yeah I did,” Hickory admitted. “You know, I cannot even reach your quarters on my own. You live in a converted bell tower above Celestia’s quarters and there are no stairs.”
“And I carry you up here to my sanctuary,” Threnody responded.
“Every time my hooves leave the ground I want to piss myself,” Hickory whispered, his voice full of shame.
Threnody turned and stared at Hickory, her gaze predatory. “Do you love me?” she asked, her ears folding back against her skull.
“That’s tricky to answer. See, I want to answer that. But if I do, I am worried that you will think I am only saying yes to improve my chances of being with you to… well, you know, do that one thing we talk about sometimes . I don’t want you thinking that I feel that way, but I don’t know how to tell you about how I really feel about the two of us so I don-”
Hickory was cut off when Threnody tackled him and pinned him to the floor. She stared down at him, her heterochromic gaze almost hypnotic. He gazed up at her, trembling, both of his eyes focused on her long white fangs. Her breath stank of fish, cheese, and garlic. He was pinned beneath a vicious predator and completely powerless.
Threnody leaned down until her lips touched Hickory’s ear. “The smell of your fear is delicious,” she whispered. “It keeps wafting off of you, the stink of your terrorised sweating… and I like it.” She drew her tongue along the folds of his ear, and then snorted, causing Hickory to shiver. “I intend to keep you. Do not resist me. My kind are fiercely matriarchal. If anypony has a problem with our relationship, I will deal with them personally.”
“I am indentured, paying off my grandsire’s debts,” Hickory breathed, closing his eyes and shuddering as he felt Threnody’s hot breath on his ear.
“Then I shall speak with Celestia about purchasing your freedom, so I can claim your life as my own,” Threnody hissed.
“You would do that for me?” Hickory asked in a breathless whisper.
“Yes, I think I would. And I don’t care that you are an earth pony. I don’t care about tribalism,” Threnody said, punctuating her words with a soft nip to the fleshiest part of Hickory’s ear.
“Ow!” Hickory yelped, more from fear and surprise than actual pain.
“I have been in season a few times now, and when the summer comes, I will be in season once again. There is something I want from you,” Threnody demanded.
“Oh, I am sure there is!” Hickory gasped.
There was a bright flash of lightning and the whole room shook with thunder, making everything shimmy and rattle.
“Give me your heart,” Threnody hissed.
“Yours,” Hickory answered. “All yours. Just please, don’t eat it!” he begged.
Threnody giggled. “You are so soft and submissive. You just want to please me, don’t you?”
Hickory nodded.
“Well, that’s funny, because I’d like to do the same for you,” Threnody said, her voice softening, becoming gentle and melodic. “I might play with you a bit, but you must know, I would never harm you,” she promised.
Hickory nodded once again.
“I will speak with Celestia first thing on the morrow, after I get my dawn briefing. I will do whatever it takes to free you of your indentured servitude and release you from your debt. And when I do, you will live up here with me, and we will be happy even though the world is going wrong all around us,” Threnody explained.
“Marriage?” Hickory questioned.
“I thought you’d never ask,” Threnody giggled. “I accept.”
“Um, wait, what?” Hickory replied, now very confused.
“I accepted your marriage proposal,” Threnody announced.
“Oh. I see,” Hickory stated, nodding his head. “I should be getting back before I get flogged for not minding the stores.”
“You don’t understand, I am not letting you leave. At dawn, I will claim you. The drunken sot of a quartermaster cannot reach you up here,” Threnody replied.
“Oh,” Hickory said. “Well, if that is the case, I am pleased to be your guest.”
“The world is a dark and dangerous place. You make it bearable,” Threnody said, baring her heart.
“Um, I wish I had your gift for words,” Hickory said. “We’re both so young.”
“Yes, we are, but not that young. I am old enough, Old enough to bleed, old enough to breed,” Threnody said. “My father approaches his quarter century mark. He is getting old. He has lived for a long time and has been a good father. I want to bless him with grandfoals before he gets too old to enjoy them.”
“I can help with that,” Hickory said with a smile.
“I know,” Threnody acknowledged.
Author's Note
Another chapter.
I suspect the age issue is going to disgust or bother some readers.
Keep in mind, Threnody, while young, is age appropriate for her society and the times in which it lives. She's known her father for about half of his life, so imagine how old he was and her mother was.
It all evens out.
Anyhoo, thanks for reading.
In the hours just after dawn, Threnody playfully blew on Hickory’s ear as he slept. With each puff, the colt twitched, his ear flopping and twitching crazily. Finally, after several minutes, the fun ended when Hickory awoke.
He gazed lovingly at his tormentor, smiling at her, yawning, and stretching in her bed. He scratched at his barrel with a forehoof in a half awake fashion, still watching the predatory pony smiling at him.
“How did it go?” he asked finally, smacking his lips and trying to dampen his dry mouth.
“The Princess agreed to deduct your debts from my wages. I cannot stay for long, I have my job to do, but I wanted to tell you. And take you down from here so you would not be stuck. Do not fear reprisal. Word is being spread that you are mine and nopony will want to risk upsetting me. I have the Princess’ ear,” answered Threnody. “There are some changes though. You can no longer eat meals in the common servant’s hall. Come, Festus grows impatient and wants his breakfast. They are waiting on you. I still have to tell my father though.”
“Tell? Shouldn’t that be ask?” Hickory asked, reaching out his forelegs and grasping Threnody around the neck. He pulled her closer, Threnody giggling as he did so, and placed a gentle peck on her snoot.
“He is in no position to disagree and a father never approves of a filly’s suitors,” Threnody stated.
“So about this marriage,” Hickory mentioned.
“This evening, as the sun sets, Princess Celestia will officiate. Nothing special, just a simple binding ceremony,” Threnody replied.
“Alright then, nothing special, just the Princess herself, very good, carry me to breakfast,” the colt said, his legs still around Threnody’s neck.
“Father?” Threnody inquired as she approached her father’s bedside and sat down beside it. “Father, I intend to marry.”
Coronach opened his remaining sightless eye and let out a confused series of clicks and squeals.
“That’s… rude father,” Threnody replied. “Of course it is me, your daughter.”
“You are not going to ask?” Coronach grumbled.
“I think I know your answer,” Threnody replied, reaching out and stroking Coronach with her wing knuckle.
“Then humour me,” Coronach asked.
“Very well,” Threnody agreed. “Father, I intend to marry an earth pony colt named Hickory. He is poor, is now currently my indentured servant because I took on his debts, he has nothing, and I would like your blessing when I marry him this evening,” Threnody asked.
“Shouldn’t he be asking me?” Coronach growled.
“See, father, this is why I didn’t want to ask,” Threnody explained.
“Damnation,” Coronach swore. “I was hoping to actually give you away.”
“Are you serious or are you having a go at me?” Threnody questioned, now sounding very confused and slightly angry.
“He is an earth pony. Not one of our kind. So there is no chance for you to be led into the corruption that so many of our find fell into. Earth ponies are honest and industrious, and they deserve to be happy just like anypony else. Him being an earth pony avoids the potential political pitfalls of what might happen if you married a solar pegasus. Does he love you?” Coronach stated.
“I have him under my spell,” Threnody confessed, her anger melting away.
“Your mother and I never really loved one another. We claimed to, because it was civil to say so, but our marriage was somewhat arranged due to both of us being good breeding stock. I want something better for you,” Coronach admitted.
“I am surprised father, I must confess,” Threnody said, edging closer to the bed and to her father.
“Do I have your blessing Threnody?” Coronach inquired.
“For what?” Threnody returned.
“For marrying Celestia. She will become your step-mother,” Coronach answered.
The slender lunar pegasus fell silent at her father’s words, her eyes narrowing as she became thoughtful. “Do you love her? Do you feel anything at all? Does any part of you feel joy at the prospect of being with her?”
“Do not ask me such things,” Coronach replied.
“Tell me, or I will employ other means of extracting your confession,” Threnody threatened. “Do not test my patience,” she warned.
Coronach sighed. “Do not tell her. But I have grown fond of her. I find that I miss her when she is not present and I long to hear her voice. I have dreams of sleeping next to her. Nothing else, nothing untoward, just sleep. A deep dark painless sleep.”
“Then you have my blessing,” Threnody offered, leaning down and kissing her father just below the ragged scar that was the remains of the gash that had taken his eye.
“Festus, I fear I must place myself into your debt and ask a favour,” Coronach said in a rumbling whisper to the griffon.
“If you need something, you need but ask,” Festus replied.
“My daughter is going to marry. There is an earth pony colt…”
“Oh I have met him. Pleasant little pony. Good honest chap,” Festus interrupted, his feathers fluffing out in response to his good feelings.
“Give him a good job. Keep him safe. Keep him close to us. Surely, you could use an assistant with a strong back,” Coronach suggested.
“Actually, I could use him to help me move bodies, both the living and the dead, if he wouldn’t mind. And there are heavy vats of chemicals… I am liking this idea. I am not very strong for a griffon,” Festus admitted.
Coronach took a deep breath and lay still.
“Celestia intends to work you over,” Festus warned. “She is in one of those moods.”
“I am worried about Celestia,” Coronach whispered. “Something is wrong with her I think. It is though a dark cloud has settled over her. She has been different lately. I think she is lying about things. These are the same signs I observed in Luna before she… before she….”
Festus shivered as Coronach’s words faded out. “I really hope that what you are saying is not true, but I am troubled by a number of things as well. I too suspect that she has been less than honest a few times. She has been distracted. Moody. There have been moments where she is so quick to anger. I hope it is merely from grief and sorrow, and not from whatever it was that consumed Luna.”
“What do I do Festus? I cannot sit by and watch another that I serve be taken, I am not in a position to do much of anything. I worry… and I am powerless.”
“Coronach, you are in a position to do something that you could not try to do with Luna. The way things are shaping up, Princess Celestia is going to end up as your bride. You could try, you could attempt to reach out to her with love. Perhaps she feels alone and desperate, just as Princess Luna did.”
The lunar pegasus grunted and squirmed in his bed. “I don’t know how to do that. That is beyond my understanding Festus.”
“You love Threnody don’t you Coronach?”
“Well, yes, but I have made so many mistakes. I don’t know how to show it. We have troubles with one another Festus. She didn’t come to me and ask for my blessing over her marriage because she thought I wouldn’t give it.”
“Well, make the effort with Celestia. Somehow. Even if it means bumbling and looking like a fool. Is she worth some of your pride to try and save? Give some thought to this Coronach.”
“I am a cripple confined to a bed. What do I do exactly Festus?”
“I have no idea Coronach. Talk with her. Like you do with me. Or Heat Stroke.”
“Heat Stroke and I don’t talk all that much Festus.”
“Coronach, remember your oath.”
“Ugh, you are using that against me Festus?”
“I felt secure enough in our friendship that I thought I could, Coronach.”
The great shaggy beast in the bed fell silent, closing his remaining eye, and looking thoughtful. The notched and tattered remains of his ears swiveled, folded, and then splayed outwards. After a long moment, his nostrils flared.
“She will be here soon to coax you through your reconditioning Coronach. Good luck. I must be going.”
And with that, the griffon left to look after others. There was a terrible case of hoof rot going around and he was a very busy physician.
Princess Celestia watched the young couple and felt something strong, bright, and burning within her heart. Something that had not been there for quite some time. Something she had believed extinguished almost to nonexistence.
Hope.
A tiny spark had remained, only a faint ember that threatened to die, but watching Threnody and Hickory being near one another added more fuel to the nearly dead fire. They were not just in love. They were in love . It was apparent to anyone that looked at them. The glances, the gestures, the blushing.
It was so strong and powerful that it made Celestia realise something in her own heart was missing and cause it to have a lonesome ache.
Threnody and Hickory continued to behave as though they were the only two ponies in existence. Quick little nuzzles. A touch with a wing. Soft warm expressions. After all of the death and the darkness, this was a balm. After the long cold winter of grief, this was the first new tender shoots that brought with them the hope of spring and warmth, and the chance to begin again.
It would be love like this that would rebuild Equestria Celestia hoped.
Celestia watched them the way a thirsty pony watches water and wants a drink. With each glance, each touch, she felt a painful emptiness that ached within her heart of hearts and longed to have it filled.
Suddenly, Coronach flashed through Celestia’s mind. It was a strong feeling. Coronach had been the only pony she had felt an actual attraction to in quite some time. He was scarred, he was hideous, he was solid and unmoving as the stone upon which Canterhorn Fortress had been built. His ability to endure was Celestia’s primary attraction to him.
She watched Threnody sneak a kiss on Hickory, believing she wasn’t being watched. Celestia felt another sharp ache. She had not wanted to actually kiss somepony since she had been a much younger pink haired alicorn filly. Now, she was an ethereal haired alicorn mare who had ascended into immortality. And it had been too long. She licked her lips, they felt dry and cracked. Celestia realised other parts of her felt dry and in need of attention.
I am too old and have far too many responsibilities she thought, scolding herself for her thoughts. Besides. Anything I love will only wither and die while I stay the same she reminded herself, feeling her own heart break just a little.
Celestia watched as Hickory leaned in on Threnody, just to be close to her, to touch her. There was no pony at Celestia’s side. No warm body next to her. No warm body in her bed. There was only her and what would be her eternal solitude. She didn’t even have her sister now to while away immortality with. She was truly alone.
I don’t want to be alone she thought to herself.
“Threnody, might I borrow your ear from Hickory for a moment?” asked Celestia, interrupting the happy couple.
“Of course your Grace, I exist to serve,” Threnody replied, drawing near from her waiting post where she sat when not running messages… or her other less savory activities which she engaged in. And enjoyed .
“I am very happy for you both you. Equestria needs more inter-tribal marriages. Look, I wanted to ask… how do you feel about your father being married?” Celestia queried, her face full of concern and worry.
“Are you after my blessing?” Threnody replied bluntly, causing both Celestia and Hickory to react. Threnody showed no signs of fear from breaking protocol. She spoke to Celestia not as a monarch, but as a pony.
“Yes,” admitted Celestia, biting her lip as though to punish it for letting the word escape. She felt nervous and her stomach began to churn.
“That depends,” Threnody responded, her tone brash and forward. “Do you have any feelings for him at all or is he simply a means to an end to protect you from less desirable marriages? Do you desire to take my mother’s place and leave him miserable and unfulfilled, or do you actually desire to become my mother, his wife, and have some actual involvement in both of our lives?”
“Threnody!” Hickory gasped, his eyes wide, fear spreading over his features. There would be no marriage tonight if Threnody was in the dungeon. “Threnody, your tone when dealing with your betters… please my love, don’t make her angry.”
“Well, do you?” Threnody reinstated to the stunned alicorn fearlessly.
Author's Note
Aww... wuv. Twu wuv.
And mawwage.
(Sorry for the Princess Bride reference, I don't know what came over me)
I know I am a bastard for the cliffhanger mid conversation. I am an incorrigible bastard, just so you know.
“Well?” Threnody repeated when Celestia did not reply.
Celestia remained silent and thought about her next words. She was a powerful leader of what was once a mighty and powerful nation, and here she was being put on the spot by a filly. Cold fear made Celestia’s belly prickle and made her spine tingle. Threnody looked like a very different creature right now, her eyes wide and fierce. It was distracting and made it very difficult to think. Celestia drew in a deep breath, focused her mind, and bared her heart.
“Your father’s happiness means a great deal to me, I must confess. There is a good chance I would place it above my own,” admitted Celestia while her wings fluttered and her ears twitched nervously.
Hickory took a deep breath and sighed, nearly passing out right there on the spot. The earth pony colt had a hard time understand just how he had ended up in the position he was in, being a servant one moment and hearing about the love lives of nobles the next. All because of Threnody.
“Do not abuse his service, his worship, or his adoration of you and you may have my blessing,” Threnody stated, still looking Celestia in the eye.
“I will try to be worthy of those things,” said Celestia, her voice small and unsteady. Celestia suddenly felt very self conscious, desperately wanting Threnody’s approval. She could not figure out why she wanted Threnody’s approval so badly. “I find myself thinking of your father at times. Thoughts that are less than chaste. I find myself attracted to his solidness and his ability to endure. I will confess that there are moments I have longed for his closeness. He is a source of comfort for me,” confessed Celesta to Threnody
“One word of any of this to anypony Hickory, and I will do unspeakble things to you,” Threnody warned her future mate.
“My lips are sealed. I know better than to drop pony flops where I eat,” Hickory replied.
“I am gladdened by the idea of Hickory wanting to earn my trust,” Celestia said, looking at the earth pony colt. “Seeing as how we might be family. You would be my son in law.”
Hickory gulped.
“That is going to make things uncomfortably political,” Threnody said, stating the obvious.
“Threnody, keep him safe in your sanctuary. I have powerful wards in place that prevent intruding unicorns. Hickory, I am sorry, but I fear there will never be stairs to your quarters,” Celestia said.
“I understand,” Hickory replied.
“So we are to be a family then,” summarised Threnody as she took in every word being spoken.
“Some foals would be nice after all of the death and the horror, I do hope you will share them with me,” Celestia said in small meek voice.
“Of course. Foals would be nice. Hickory, are you willing do your part to aid in the reconstruction efforts?” asked Threnody with a raised eyebrow and a suggestive wink.
Hickory nodded enthusiastically, looked at Celestia, realised what he was doing, froze, and blushed with embarrassment.
Once again, Celestia found herself laughing.
Coronach stumbled around the room, struggling to remain on his legs. Celestia held him aloft as she had always done, but today, much of his weight had been placed on his legs at his own request. He took trembling wobbly steps, very much like a newborn foal trying to walk for the first time.
They were alone. Festus was gone, and there was no sign of Heat Stroke. Threnody was somewhere else. Coronach was keenly aware that he was alone with Celestia, and he felt flustered about it without understanding why.
“Threnody wants you there tonight when she is bonded,” said Celestia as she watched Coronach work to keep his footing.
“I know,” Coronach grunted, his concentration clearly somewhere else.
“She has given me her blessing for our marriage,” Celestia announced.
Coronach did not reply, but did flutter his wings, extending them outwards and trying to stretch the taut tendons just a little bit. There was a faint whimper of pain that would be inaudible to anything but a lunar pegasus… or an alicorn.
The grizzled lunar pegasus became aware of something warm near his side. He turned his head and echolocated, sensing something large. “Your Grace?” he asked, knowing the alicorn was near him and that he had not strayed too near the fire.
“I- I wanted to be close to you,” Celestia confirmed, her voice near Coronach’s ear. “If we are to be wed, shouldn’t we be at least a little familiar with one another?” Celestia asked.
“Eeeeeh,” Coronach gasped, stumbling, trying to move away.
“Oh come on, you cannot be shy about these things. I know you have been near mares before. You have Threnody,” Celestia complained as she kept pace with Coronach.
The lunar pegasus let out an alarmed series of squeals, clicks, and pops as he tried to get his bearings and figure out how to escape the alicorn that was entirely to close for comfort.
“Do I have to order you to give me some attention?” Celestia snapped.
“You can try, I can refuse,” Coronach replied, wobbling away and veering close to a wall.
“You would refuse me comfort? You would disobey a direct command?” Celestia asked insistently.
Coronach did not reply but made a confused series of clicks and pops to once again try to get his bearings.
“Look, I thought we had agreed that we would attempt to woo one another… I even kissed you!” Celestia said as she pulled the lunar pegasus closer to her with her magic.
“You agreed, and then you kissed me, and I still don’t know what to do about this,” Coronach replied, trying to squirm away. “We are not on equal footing. I am yours to command, and you exist above me.”
“It was a nice kiss… I liked it. Did you like it?” Celestia inquired.
Coronach did not reply, realising there was no good answer. Saying no would make his Princess upset, saying yes would only encourage future intrusions upon his body.
“Look, after watching Threnody and Hickory with one another, I just want to feel a warm body against mine… and maybe a kiss?” whispered Celestia, her words expressing a vast feeling of vulnerability. “I am so lonesome… I do not have my sister. I have no one to comfort me. I need somebody I can confide in and be close to. I cannot deal with these pressures all alone.”
“Go hug Threnody?” Coronach suggested.
A moment later, Coronach felt himself being hurled through the air, soaring across the room, and he landed on the bed with a surprising but frightening gentleness. The sounds of his echolocation filled the room as he tried to figure out what was happening. He felt something land on the bed next to him.
“So then, it isn’t enough to woo you, or simply take you, is it to be conquest then?” Celestia shouted in an imperious voice. “I like this arrangement actually. Resist me Coronach, force me to subjugate you and I WILL!” spoke Celestia, slipping into the royal Voice.
“Oh bugger,” Coronach swore, trying to squirm away, his body not having enough strength on its own to do so. He felt a weight collapse down upon him, and two forelegs wrapping around his barrel. Her grasp was crushing but gentle, fierce but kind, and while it hurt, it was mostly the promise of hurt and more to come if he resisted.
Supine, and stuck on his back, he could feel parts of her brush up against him as they lay belly to belly. A warm radiant heat flooded from the velvet expanses of her belly into his own.
He heard a gasp from Celestia as she settled on top of him, pressing him down and embracing him. Her body was slender, long, and warm. He could feel her swanlike neck against his own. He could feel her breathing in his ear. He lay as still a possible, frozen in fear, never once learning the protocol of what to do if your monarch suddenly pins you down and forcibly mounts you. This was never covered in the service academy.
Her warmth was soothing against his many pain filled and aching places. Quite against his own will, his body betrayed him, squirming and trying to settle the mare above him closer. Her teats radiated heat like a furnace, and they pressed into the soft expanses of skin on either side of his hip joints. He let out a gasp as she settled into place, her body fitting against his like a second skin.
Even with his own mate, Coronach had never been in an embrace this intimate. He felt Celestia’s head resting on the bed near his own, her cheek against his. He could feel her breathing.
Part of his brain wished he had the strength to roll over and take her, performing his own act of conquest, making her cry out and beg for mercy. Another part of him was content to simply have her close, her warmth seeping into his aching joints. He felt guilty for wanting to conquer his monarch.
“Is this what it feels like to have the sun shine upon you?” Coronach asked.
“Perhaps,” Celestia replied in a hushed whisper.
“Then I wish to feel the sun,” Coronach replied, curious as to why he was not more aroused by a mare sprawling over him. He hadn’t even began to bulge or peek out from his sheath. This simply felt good as it was. He began to worry if he was still capable of the act.
“You cannot,” Celestia replied sadly. “You are a creature of shadow. A beast of the night. The sun will always feel cold to you.”
“But I need to feel this warmth,” Coronach confessed, Celestia’s heat radiating into his inner core, flooding him with a warmth he had never experienced. He feebly raised on foreleg and wrapped it around Celestia’s neck, where it hung limply.
“I had forgotten what this was like,” admitted Celestia as she stretched and squirmed along Coronach’s large scar covered mass. “To have a warm body pressed up against you in such an intimate way. To feel everything , every intimate difference between our male and female forms so tightly enmeshed together. To feel hot inviting flesh, to feel the blood of another pumping beneath that flesh, to feel muscle, sinew, and flesh writhe against you.”
Coronach felt something searingly hot and damp pressed up against his scrotum, it was held in place for a moment and then it was ground against him a few times, a slow deliberate back and forth gesture. And then, it stopped, still pressed up against him tightly. Celestia shuddered, trembled, and shivered above him, drawing in a long hissing breath. He felt a dribble of liquid trail down the soft flesh of sack, down along his pucker, and then collect in the hollow just beneath his dock.
“Your Majesty, this is improper, we should be wed before continuing,” Coronach protested.
“Damn you and your sense of duty,” Celestia spat. She continued to press against him and did not pull away, panting and emitting faint whimpers as she remained pressed tightly up against him with her moist folds. “Just let me hold you then,” she begged.
Coronach did not reply, but lifted his other foreleg and draped it over her withers. Her body was small and slender compared to his, her barrel a quarter of the size of his own. While she was taller than he was when standing, she was but a small fraction of his bulk and mass.
Using his snoot, he began to feel along her neck, up along her jawline, snuffling and snorting as his snoot traveled along her flesh, eventually finding the corner of her mouth. He pressed his lips against her own, and she turned her head to get a better angle as the blind pony found his way to her mouth. His lips were as hard and covered in scars as the rest of him, and Celestia found she did not care. They were warm, and pressed against hers, the first in such a long time.
Coronach realised the Sun Goddess radiated heat. It was simply part of her nature. Her breath was searing as it traveled down his throat, her quick gasps becoming hotter and hotter as her breathing increased, her panting heaves increasing in pace.
Celestia’s tongue was like a branding iron in his mouth. When it touched the roof of his mouth, Coronach nearly cried out.
And then, the kiss ended as the two pulled apart. Celestia rested her head down upon the bed next to Coronach’s, content to simply be near him.
“Getting you too aroused might be a bad idea,” Celestia murmured. “I want you well when I make my conquest of you and I will wait until we are wed. For now, I am content to hold you and feel your body. I refuse to believe this is wrong.”
“It is certainly an effective means of pain relief,” Coronach whispered. “It is like having hot rocks placed into your bed.”
“I do hope you will forgive me for relieving my frustrations against your flesh Coronach,” whispered Celestia in a heated voice.
“You mean you…” Coronach asked.
“When I felt your warmth against me it was too much. I released. I hope you will forgive me. It was selfish,” Celestia admitted.
“Think nothing of it,” Coronach said, feeling an odd emotion creep through his flesh as his monarch continued to sprawl atop him.
Author's Note
Erotica! Say it with me, erotica.
This is art, not pornography.
Anyhow, discussion is encouraged. I'd like to know that what I am writing is being read. Thanks.
Let me know if I screwed up anywhere. I fixed dozens of errors, but may have missed a few.
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.
Threnody let out a nervous giggle as she and Hickory looked at one another. She had no idea what to do exactly, and neither did Hickory for that matter, who kept looking away from her, breaking eye contact and blushing shyly.
“It cannot be that hard,” Threnody soothed. “You just need to climb up on my back, mount me, and find your way in,” she explained.
Hickory smiled sheepishly and made a “huhyuh” sound in the back of his throat. The colt was now painfully shy and terribly afraid, a bad combination for the earth pony.
Threnody turned and presented herself once again, lifting her tail and throwing her head back. She began back up towards Hickory, making an odd purring sound that only her species could make, a rumbling resonance in her throat.
Hickory took a bold step forward, lowered his head, and then gave Threnody a sniff just below her tail. She froze and made an odd clicking popping sound deep within her throat, followed by a shrill whistle. This was the first time actually seeing a mare up close. He had seen glimpses, but this was his first time to get a really good look. He sniffed carefully, feeling a heady desire fill his body as he did so, and parts of him began to awaken. Each sniff caused Threnody to make a little whimpering cry.
“Oh please just do something,” she begged. “I don’t know what is going on, but it actually kinda hurts back there!”
“Well, if it is hurting, maybe we should wait until some other time,” Hickory said in concern and pulling his head back.
“No!” Threnody growled. “Gaaaah I feel wet and sticky and hot back there!”
As Hickory watched, a single droplet of moisture leaked out from the glistening slit and began to trickle down Threnody’s left hind leg. Feeling bold, he stuck out his tongue and gave a lick, which caused Threnody to leap across the room.
“Aaaaah!” Threnody shrieked.
“It’s salty,” Hickory commented.
“You licked me!” Threnody accused.
“Come here, I’ll do it again,” Hickory said.
“Pervert!” Threnody shouted.
“I was curious!” Hickory said, defending himself from the accusation.
He took a bold step towards the filly and she back away, eventually bumping into the bed. She let out another nervous giggle, extended her wing, and gave a playful slap to the colt.
“Don’t be a pervert,” she commanded.
“Look, you told me to mount you, who is being the pervert?” Hickory asked.
“Why do you want to lick me?” Threnody questioned.
“Because, I was curious, and then I found I kind of liked it,” Hickory replied.
Threnody turned and presented herself again, lifting her tail and arching her back slightly, exposing her opening. It was now even wetter and slicker looking than before.
Hickory, feeling emboldened, gave another lick, this time directly to the glossy looking skin of her swollen folds. Threnody made a throaty mewling sound and pressed herself backwards as she felt the contact of his tongue.
“This is torture,” Threnody whined.
Hickory rose to his hind legs and leaned on Threnody’s backside. A major problem became apparent as he did so. He grasped Threnody’s sides with his forelegs. “My love, you are too tall, and I am too short, I cannot reach for entry,” he whispered.
Threnody tried to kick her legs out sideways, lowering herself slightly.
Hickory gave a grunt and lept, landing on Threnody’s back. All four of his hooves were now off the ground. He slid around, trying to get a grip, and Threnody’s wings unfurled. They began to smack him as she flapped in panic.
In the middle of all of this, he could feel his tip brush up against something wet for brief moment and it set him on fire when he did so. He squeezed with his forelegs, and tried to hold on. He had his forelegs hooked in front of Threnody’s wing joints and he used them as handles to slid up along her back, pulling himself forward slightly. He felt himself pressed against something wet again, and Threnody continued to dance around on her hooves, forcing him to hold on for dear life.
“Hold still you silly filly!” Hickory chided.
“But something keeps tickling me just under my tail,” Threnody protested.
“I can’t get it in if you don’t hold still,” Hickory grunted.
“But it tickles!” she repeated. “Feels like a snake slithering over my backside!” she complained, and then she giggled at her own words.
Hickory fumbled and thrusted as the filly began to buck, trying to find his way in, unable to brace his hind legs against the ground for assistance with his penetration. All he could do was make a few half hearted pokes that did nothing but leave him frustrated and left Threnody giggling.
“Feels like I am pissing! I can feel something wet and sticky running down my legs!” she exclaimed.
Hickory was thrusting wildly, trying to gain entry. He grunted with each grind of his hips. He pressed his nose into Threnody’s mane, taking in her scent. He was wild with desire now, almost feral, and his hind legs hooked around Threnody’s hind legs, which made it harder for her to kick around.
A brief moment, Hickory slid into her slick velvet folds. He struck something solid that blocked entry for only a moment, and then it gave way, allowing him to slide in. Threnody gave a cry of pain. She bucked hard, which sent Hickory flying. He landed on the other side of the room on his side, the wind knocked out of him. He lay on the floor sucking air, worried about his bride, and Threnody let out several more cries of pain.
“Are you alright?” She said, her voice full of worry. “I am so sorry, but something hurt really bad back there… I smell blood.”
Hickory lay on the floor, still trying to breath, unable to reply.
“I’m so sorry, it hurt so much, I feel so bad,” Threnody babbled.
Hickory gave a gasp as he finally caught his breath, and he began sucking the wind back into his lungs. He heaved and panted, his lungs burning, and his throat felt like it was on fire.
“I’m bleeding,” Threnody said calmly as she looked at her forehoof that she had just rubbed herself with. “A little blood is normal, I remember hearing that. I really am sorry, you spooked me… I would never intentionally hurt you.”
“I know,” Hickory gasped.
“This is a lot harder than I thought it was going to be,” Threnody admitted.
Hickory nodded but said nothing.
“Should we ask somepony for advice?” Threnody questioned.
Hickory shook his head no.
“Do you still love me?” Threnody asked sheepishly.
Hickory glared with narrow eyes and nodded.
“I was worried… I’ve heard talk about stallions not loving a mare if she resists breeding, I wasn’t resisting, I swear,” she said pleadingly.
“I know,” Hickory wheezed. “I love you, you silly filly.”
“I’d kiss you, but you are still struggling to draw air,” Threnody stated.
“You… go lay on the bed, on your back, with your hindquarters on the edge of the bed,” Hickory said in a slow wheeze.
“What? Why?” Threnody asked as she went and laid down on the bed.
Hickory rose, and seeing Threnody supine on the bed made him begin to go hard again. He crossed the room slowly, sniffing, still huffing for air, and trying to restore what he thought was a cocky swagger. He mounted Threnody, easing himself downward, and rested his body against hers, barrel to barrel. His hind legs were extended, hooves planted on the stone floor, and he wiggled while trying to find his way in again.
“Oh… this is different,” Threnody said nervously. “Never, uh, heard of this. Hello my handsome lover.”
With a grunt, Hickory found entry, and Threnody cried out again.
Hickory waited, holding himself inside of her. “Are you alright?” he asked.
“Just was uncomfortable for a moment, but the pain is gone now,” she answered. “Go slowly,” she urged as she reached up her head and then planted a kiss upon his lips. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she might be tasting herself on his lips and the thought intrigued her.
Hickory pulled out slightly and then eased his way back in, hearing a wet sucking sound as he did so. Threnody moaned beneath him, her lips still pecking at his. “So hot,” he murmured. “It almost burns,” he added.
He pulled away from her kisses and buried his face against her neck, his nose pressed into her mane. She smelled of sweat and faintly of soap. There was something feminine about the smell, and it filled him with fervent desire. He heaved one shuddering breath, braced his hooves, and with a forceful shove, buried himself into Threnody, causing her to squirm and squeal beneath him.
Threnody wrapped her hindlegs around Hickory’s waist and began to squeeze, pulled him closer to her and trying to get parts of him to rub up against parts of her. There was a hard little pebble of flesh she could feel throbbing down there, and Hickory’s body would occasionally brush or rub up against it, causing electric shivers all over her body.
The colt collapsed on top of her, plunging himself in and out, lost in the moment, going solely by instinct. “I love you madly,” he grunted.
Threnody felt Hickory spasming above her. This was not the sweet, gentle, timid colt she had known, this was a feral beast with lustful needs. And she liked his lustful needs. She felt a raw tingle of ecstasy knowing that she was his burning desire. She could feel her back sliding along the blanket and her body rocked back and forth as he ground away on top of her. She had to fight back the urge to bite something, a desperate hungry bestial desire to sink her fangs into something. The smell of her own blood, heated from friction, was driving her wild, and she had to hold back the predator within.
Hickory looked down and realised he had a delicate and sensitive part of his body buried deep in a vicious predatory beast. She was looking up at him with crazy looking eyes, and her tongue lolled out of the corner of her mouth. She was drooling with some sort of desire, and he wasn’t so sure it was just plain and simple lust as she flicked one of her fangs with her tongue. He felt cold chills running up and down his spine, and cold terror made his balls prickle. Cold sweat beaded along his back as he continued grinding away, and he felt his balls slapping up against her with each thrust, producing a wet smacking sound as he hilted himself repeatedly. He squealed with terror as he felt her jaws clamp down on his throat… he felt two fangs pressed against his tender skin, but they did not pierce his flesh. He felt her rough scratchy tongue licking against his pelt, its pebbly texture parting the hairs and scraping against the flesh below, and its pointed tip pressing against his artery. The four points of her upper and lower fangs pressed against his flesh, stinging, her tongue licking back and forth over his artery.
It set his body ablaze with lustful desire, and he picked up his pace.
Hickory realised that Threnody’s jaws being clamped around his throat was all about trust. She trusted him, and he had to trust her. She was, after all, a predatory creature who was laying belly up, with her vitals exposed to potential danger and he was just smart enough to realise the significance of this. “I love you,” he grunted. He felt her body tense below him, and for a moment, her fangs felt as though they were certain to break through his skin and tear into his throat. Her breathing was ragged and she made whimpering cries. He hoped he wasn’t hurting her, but there was no way he could stop now.
Above her, Threnody felt Hickory increasing his pace, and his muscles twitched and spasmed. She could feel the pulse of his life force upon the tip of her tongue as she frantically licked the thin skin of his throat. She didn’t know what had just happened, but it felt good and she wanted it to happen again. Her nose was filled with too many scents to keep track of, and she was overwhelmed. She felt his pulse increasing and his breathing grew heavier.
Finally, Hickory seized above her, and plunged in as deep as possible. She felt a hot wet sensation deep inside of her, and then Hickory let out a few whimpers. She released her hold on his throat. He went limp on top of her, and she had to pull him up onto the bed with her as his legs went out from beneath him. He shivered and trembled in her embrace, and his body was wet and sweaty against hers.
“That was wonderful,” Threnody whispered.
Hickory did not reply with words, but rubbed his muzzle along her jawline, and then snuffled into her mane, causing Threnody to convulse from ticklish tingles.
Author's Note
Awkward first love...
Enjoy.
Have a nice night.
Let me know if I missed anything.
The lunar pegasus filly known as Threnody stared up at Celestia as the monarch studied her. Very few things ever looked Celestia in the eye directly. Threnody seemed to have very little fear of anything, if she had any fear at all, and Celestia could not understand the accusations of cowardice. The filly blinked occasionally, but not nearly as often as a solar pegasus might. The little filly was smallish for her age, slight for her female status, thin and slender rather than the usual brutish bulk the females of her kind had. She had the rare heterochromic condition that existed for the lunar pegasi, one eye being orange, the other amber yellow.
Threnody had endured a few feeding sessions with Coronach, the small filly pleading with her sire to eat, begging him, and Coronach had done nothing. Celestia had been forced to get every bite down, Threnody’s weeping in her ears as well as Coronach’s.
The weeping had created a haunting funeral dirge between the two of them.
“You fascinate me Threnody,” Celestia said, still studying the filly that stood watching her. “It is a shame that your own kind see you as weak and useless. Pacifism takes courage and strong conviction.”
The filly nodded, her oversized tufted ears bobbing as she did so.
“Something must be done with you. You are entirely to valuable to allow to slip away. There is potential in you. Threnody, how would you like to become my page? My messenger? When I need to get a message somewhere in a hurry, like to the commander of my guard or to Festus and I cannot take the time to go there myself,” Celestia offered.
Threnody looked thoughtful, her fangs peeking out from her lips, as she continued to look upward at Celestia. “Would I be welcomed among their kind?” she asked, squirming slightly, a faint trace of fear and worry now finally visible. “There are so many that want to kill me after what has taken place,” she added.
“We must put these differences behind us and began to move forward. I believe that having you as my page would be a good first step. A page is somepony that requires much trust, as you give them some very important and private messages. I think it would do everypony some good for them to see that I trust you, and, by extension, I can place trust in your kind,” Celestia said, explaining the finer point of her belief.
“My kind should not be trusted, we were duplicitous and treacherous,” Threnody retorted, now turning her gaze away, casting her eyes downward.
“You are not like that, and surely there must be others like you. Coronach is certainly not like that. I must trust that there are good ponies like you in the lunar pegasi ranks,” Celestia argued, her tone one of desperation.
“Like my sire, I shall serve you in whatever capacity you command of me,” Threnody said, her head still bowed. “It is my place to serve, and I will do so gladly. You care for my sire, I am obligated to pay his debts being his flesh and blood.”
“I do not want to command you Threnody. I want to ask you if I can trust you and if you will help me. This is one of the many small first steps that must be taken towards rebuilding. If I command you to serve, it is very different than you offering to assist me,” Celestia explained, her eyes narrowing and her ears falling back.
“I will serve the empire in whatever way I can in exchange for my sire’s good care,” Threnody offered.
“No, Threnody, I am sorry, but this cannot be, I cannot have ponies think that I am holding your father hostage to gain your service. This has to be about you,” Celestia replied patiently.
“I understand,” Threnody acknowledged, her head nodding, “I shall serve to restore the trust recently lost between my kind and those of the day.”
“I accept your service, there will be a more formal ceremony later where you are publicly sworn in as my page and there are witnesses,” Celestia said. “This job requires you be at my side always, except when you are delivering messages of course.”
Threnody nodded several times and then looked up at Celestia. “Please keep my sire alive. I have lost so much. I… suppose I do not share the views of my kind or their values. Perhaps I am selfish, but I want him alive,” Threnody confessed, one hoof tracing a circle upon the somewhat burnt rug in the middle of the room where she sat.
“I want your father alive for my own reasons, so maybe I am selfish as well,” Celestia confessed, revealing a very private and intimate part of herself to Threnody. “I have lost so much control over everything else, the empire is falling apart, ponies keep dying despite my best efforts, it is though your father has become a prize in my mind, something I still have some influence over,” Celestia confessed.
“I am not sure what to say,” Threnody replied. “But I can listen as well as carry messages,” she offered.
Celestia smiled, a soft watery smile of gratitude, more tears welling up in the corners of her eyes.
“Your kind are truly amazing, already your wounds have healed so much, I still cannot understand how you draw breath,” Festus said, applying a fresh bandage. “I am learning so much about wound care from you, this is a rare opportunity, what I learn could save lives. As I predicted, leaving some wounds open has showed positive signs, allowing sickness to weep out. It really is better to pack them with poultices and bandages, and then allow them to heal with from the inside outward. Stitching them closed would only trap the sickness inside, cause the two lips of the wound to heal together, and would leave a hollow in the middle that I have witnessed from previous attempts on others. Lancing those hollows is a foul task.”
Coronach patiently waited for the long winded griffon to finish his work. Festus was a good griffon, quite unlike the griffon’s own kind… much in the same way that Coronach felt that he was unlike his own kind, the lunar pegasi. Festus was a bit like Threnody, unwilling to commit to war, to bring harm to another, and refused to take part in the slavery practices of his own kind. Festus had found his place among Celestia’s ranks after being captured by the solar guard along the eastern borders. The griffons still controlled the eastern coast, and they were always looking for food or slaves. Festus had earned Celestia’s trust.
And much of the guard as well. Festus was considered a valuable asset to the guard, and they looked after their assets.
“We are going to be moving you soon to Canterhorn fortress. I’ve been there to inspect your new quarters, you will have a chamber connected directly to Celestia’s. I have overseen the construction of a sliding rail along the ceiling, and there is a balcony, so we can move you outside. I do believe a little moonlight will do wonders to aid in your healing. Won’t that be nice?” Festus said, passing the time while he dug out tightly wadded bandages packed into a wound. There was an immense feeling of pressure being relieved as he did so, which caused Coronach to groan slightly, quite against his own will.
“Sorry if that hurts, but the bandages must be changed. This wound has festered a bit. I am going to pour a tincture into the gash, this may sting a little,” Festus warned.
It did not sting a little.
What was it with healers and their need to lie about the how little pain they caused?
“I suspect that you are going to live and you are going to make a good recovery, but I am optimistic in that way. I am still labouring under the assumption that you should not be alive, but you are alive, and healing, so I can only assume that you will survive and get better. Perhaps not the best logic I have produced, but you defy logic my big shaggy friend. Now, as your physician, I must demand that you eat more if you can, and that you allow someone to feed you without such a fuss. I am changing your fish paste to make it denser. Your body needs more to work with if you are going to heal,” the griffon said, huffing a few times in annoyance, his beak clicking several times as he spoke.
“She keeps pinching my snoot,” Coronach complained.
“You keep giving her reasons,” Festus retorted.
“I cannot simply give in. I have taken a contrary position and now I must defend it until such a time that I can care for myself. If I gave in now, I’d look weak,” Coronach confessed to his surgeon.
Coronach could not see the griffon rolling his eyes.
“You are a fool,” Festus chided.
Coronach did not reply as he felt Festus unraveling the bandages around his head.
“I have sewn most of your eye socket shut, leaving a hole to allow for drainage. Let me have a look at it,” explained Festus as the bandages came off. “Hrmm, looks much better than I thought it would,” Festus admitted. “The gash that was left when your eye was taken is also healing much better than I thought it would. That gash was down to the bone in some places, and even the bone itself had been grooved.”
The griffon was poking around and prodding, testing and probing with his claw. It was painful, but the pain had been dulled considerably with the compounds the griffon was still working on to kill pain. Pain was the healer’s mortal enemy, and Festus waged war on pain in the same way the pegasi had waged war upon Discord.
As the griffon laboured, Coronach heard the door open and hoofsteps entered the room. A familiar scent flooded Coronach’s nostrils.
“Sire, how are you?”
Threnody’s voice was melodic and beautiful to his ears. Coronach lacked the vocabulary to express his emotions for his offspring. Coronach did not reply. Could not reply. His daughter had sided with his hated enemy, encouraging the dreadful snoot pinching and letting Celestia know that she was in the right.
“Sire, Celestia is going to make me her page,” Threnody said softly.
Coronach felt a huge rush of relief. Pagehood. A valuable and meaningful position of service. He hated Celestia a little less at that moment. Pages were also protected by the royal guard, looked after fiercely, and it was a crime to interfere or bring harm to them. Celestia had made a good move to make sure that Threnody would be protected from those who sought revenge against the lunar pegasi. Coronach wondered briefly if Threnody even understood what was being done to look after her.
Coronach struggled not to weep, pressing all of his emotion down inside, feeling a rush of gratitude. He had been right in choosing to serve both monarchs. Celestia was as kind and benevolent as the stories claimed. And wiley as well. This was a master stroke to pillage his already weakened defenses. Celestia had to know that Threnody bringing him this news would lead him to these conclusions. Coronach was an old salt, rapidly approaching the quarter century mark. He was getting old and experienced, and now he was old and crippled. He hung limply in his sling, hating what remained of his life.
“Sire, forgive me for being so disrespectful, but not speaking to me because I took sides with Celestia is foolish. You… you are a stupid foolish old oaf!” Threnody cried, stomping her hoof in frustration.
“Yes, he is that indeed,” Festus agreed.
Coronach felt a secret sense of pride. Threnody was brave enough to tell him off. She was no coward, that much he knew for certain. He had done well in raising her. He had reached her. His many lessons had sunk in.
“You stubborn chamberpot nightsoil for brains heart like a stone fool! I should pinch your snoot myself!” Threnody threatened.
Coronach knew her threats were meaningless. Threnody didn’t even like killing the fish she captured to eat.
“Threnody darling, please remain calm,” Festus soothed.
Coronach heard a rustling sound and suddenly his snoot was alive with pain, being squeezed between Threnody’s grasping digit and her central wing knuckle. She even twisted a bit, causing white hot pain to go lancing through his face. Eventually, the painful pinch was released after several moments. Coronach heard a loud wailing cry and then hooves thudding over the stone floor as Threnody fled the room, now sobbing.
“I am so very proud of her,” Coronach gasped when he and Festus were finally alone and it was safe to say something.
“You sir, are an oaf and a barbarian. I cannot believe you made her endure that,” Festus said with a hint of anger. “But it is easy to see where she gets her strength and resilience,” he added.
Author's Note
It isn't very often that I get to drag out the word "nightsoil."
