The Moon is a Harsh Mistress

by NavyPony

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, Princess Luna, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 63843

Luna returns, and one unlucky servant is saddled with far more responsibility than he can handle.

It's been a thousand years. Princess Luna is returned, and the castle staff must scramble to see that she has servants to attend to her needs, and just as importantly, that they look the part. Of course, it turns out that it's rather difficult to find competent servants on such short notice. A hooffull of servants are chosen based on their appearance and duties, and are assigned to serve the Moon Goddess as personal retainers until more suitable replacements can be found. When coloring, Cutie Mark, and chance coincide, one of the castle's junior stewards is thrust into a role any loyal servant ought to jump at: Lunar Hoofservant. Unfortunately for Nightlight, Princess Luna is far more demanding than her older sister, and being her servant means contending with an unforgiving goddess who demands nothing short of perfection. Furthermore, somepony must be responsible for the inevitable failure. The duty of "Royal Hoofservant" just might be synonymous with "Royal Scapegoat."
Saddled with responsibility far beyond his post and expected to fail, Nightlight has no choice but to quit his post or to become the servant that Luna needs. This is the story of a pony's development from colt to stallion, and from servant to leader.
Thanks much to DirePony for the editing and story direction he's graciously provided me.
Rated 'Teen' for alcohol use, mild innuendo/sexual references, and pony-swears.
Not based on the (excellent) sci-fi novel of the same name by Robert Heinlein.

Published 2012-07-08 21:34:03 UTC
Last updated 2013-06-10 05:56:49 UTC

A Very Unusual Evening

The Moon is a Harsh Mistress
by NavyPony

Chapter One:
A Very Unusual Evening

It was ninety-eight minutes until sunset, and it was a very unusual evening.

Firstly, the pair of charcoal-coated unicorns flanking the double doors in front of him didn’t stir up the slightest bit of nerves in Nightlight. That was weird, because the Royal Guards always made Nightlight nervous (a pony would have to be insane not to be nervous), and these were Unicorn Corps guards to boot - a group even more prestigious than the Pegasus Division. They didn’t think highly of any pony that couldn’t fend off a rampaging dragon, and outright disdained ponies that couldn’t even face an angry manticore.

It therefore stood to reason that the Unicorn Corps did not much respect the Assistant to the Secondary Night Steward. Far from summoning a rain of magic swords or shooting salvos of telekinetic bullets, the only magic Nightlight was competent with were the fields of levitation and illumination. Admittedly, he was more than competent when it came to lighting – he’d gotten his cutie mark (and a hoofnote in The History of Magic) when he tweaked a darkvision spell to allow the caster to see in color instead of monotone.

The little black lightbulb surrounded by white stars always reminded him why he was working for the night stewards instead of the day stewards. The day stewards may have been more prestigious, not to mention better paying, but the night was his element. After all, how could one have a night steward that wasn’t able to work at night?

Not that Nightlight was technically a full steward. ‘Well, it’s not like you can start on the top of the totem pole, right?’ He’d been at the job for just about a year, and while he may not have been perfect, he liked to think he performed satisfactorily. The day staff always found the castle in the same state they’d left it, if not better, and that was the true purpose of the night stewards. Get things ready for the day, when the real work happens. Fix what they break, order their things, and take note of new jobs that they need to do. ‘And if something bad happens, tell your boss, so he can do something about it, or tell his boss.’ And so on and so forth.

Official protocol dictated that in the event of an emergency, Nightlight was to locate and inform the Secondary Night Steward, Noon Nap. If Noon couldn't solve the problem, he would inform the Primary Night Steward, Star Quill. Star Quill didn’t know how to do much more than bookkeeping, so she would inevitably wake the Chief Steward, Snowy Slopes. Snowy Slopes, if unable to solve the problem himself (a very unlikely scenario, considering the resourcefulness of the elderly unicorn), was tasked with waking Princess Celestia should he see it necessary. According to some of the older castle workers, every steward that had woken the Princess in the middle of the night had turned in his or her resignation the next day. Everypony knew that waking a sleeping alicorn was a career-killer.

That was why the angry-looking guards didn’t stir up the least bit of nerves in Nightlight. Compared to the prospect of waking a sleeping alicorn, Nightlight would’ve very much preferred facing a rampaging dragon, armed only with his darkvision and hooves. And starting tonight, waking up a sleeping princess was on his list of duties.

It was ninety-seven minutes until sunset, and it was a very unusual evening.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

It had started normally enough. Nightlight had woken at three thirty in the afternoon, groggily made his way to the communal bathrooms in this wing of the castle, and begun his daily ritual as normal. Some twenty minutes later, still brushing the last few kinks from his long mane, another pony stepped into the bathroom – Noon Nap.

The Secondary Night Steward was a sky-blue pegasus with a gloomy grey mane that curled and poofed exactly the way a cloud did. His cutie mark was a pillow sitting atop a cloud, and nopony could possibly question how he’d earned it. Nonetheless, Noon Nap was a hard worker when he wasn’t napping, and it more than made up for the few hours he actually did his job. The pegasus was prickly, critical, and occasionally belligerent, but as long as his subordinates did more work than they made for him, he wasn’t too hard to work for.

He seemed uncharacteristically pleased to come across the dark-coated unicorn. “Night, thank goodness you’re up, I’ve been looking all over for you,” he blurted out as soon as he laid eyes upon his assistant. “You got all your pre-sunset duties done?”

Still taken aback by the sudden intrusion, Nightlight couldn’t do much more than shake his head.

Noon Nap shook his head almost before Nightlight finished, not even paying attention. “No, of course not, there’s like, two hours. No matter, don’t do them today. I’ll put someone else on them, or do them myself.”

Now that was weird. Noon never did anything himself unless it made him look good. Nightlight levitated the brush down and turned to face the azure pegasus. “Umm… sir? Is something going on?”

“Ehh?” He cocked his head, as if that was the stupidest question he’d ever heard in his tenure. A distinct possibility. “No kidding, Night. Special assignment for the night stewards, and you’ve got the prereqs, I hear. I told them you weren’t up to it, but…” He shrugged his wiry shoulders. “Star Quill has two-thirds of the unicorns and a fifth of the rest of the night stewards reporting in. Congrats, kid. Maybe you’ll get a chance to screw up something important. Go present yourself at the head office,” he finished in a strangely positive tone. 'Maybe if he can’t do the job himself, he at least wants his subordinate to get the job?' Perhaps Noon was turning his attitude around. “Buck this up badly enough and I might get a new assistant. That’d be nice.” Or not.

Nightlight soon found that the summoned night stewards composed only a small fraction of the actual ponies being gathered. A good third of the night staff looked to be about, and although the night staff was only a tenth of the size of the day staff, there were almost fifty ponies present. What was most interesting, however, was that this was not taking place on Star Quill’s initiative (although she was present and overseeing), but rather on Snowy Slopes’ personal orders. It was uncomfortably apparent that Noon Nap had been right: there actually was the chance to screw up something important.

“All ponies line up. Unicorns here, pegasi here, and earth ponies in a third line,” commanded the Head Steward in a dour tone. All of the assembled began doing so until the additional order rang out, “And stand so that I can see your cutie marks please.” That got some grumbles out of a hooffull of the fillies and one colt about sexual harassment, but the word of the Head Steward was law in Castle Canterlot. A few hiked skirts and dropped trousers later, Snowy Slopes began walking each line, asking each pony what her or his job was within the castle. Some were pulled out of line to form another, smaller group; the rest were dismissed.

Soon it was Nightlight’s turn. “And what’s your role around here?”

“I’m one of the stewards, sir.” Slopes raised a bushy white eyebrow probingly. “Umm, Assistant Night Steward, technically. Assistant to the Secondary Night Steward, that is. I’ve worked for Noon Nap for the last year or so.”

“Be precise," Slopes barked back in a sour voice. "More or less than a year?”

Nightlight had to think for a moment. ‘I started three weeks before last year’s Summer Sun Celebration, right?’ This year’s Celebration, and all its associated weirdness, had taken place just yesterday. Ponies were still talking about the sun rising late on the Summer Sun Celebration, of all days. “Umm… More sir. Between twelve and thirteen months, I think.”

The Head Steward raised his other eyebrow, this one in surprise. “Really? Oughtn’t you have made apprentice by now? But you’re still an assistant. Why’s that?” His tone made it apparent that the most likely reason involved a major blunder.

Nightlight rubbed a hoof through his mane nervously. “There’s just no room for advancement, sir. We’re full up, at least until somepony retires.”

Snowy Slopes rolled his eyes and muttered, “Now that’s going to change soon,” quietly enough that the younger unicorn could barely hear it. Speaking more loudly, he continued, “Well, your cutie mark barely fits the bill, but your coloring’s good and anypony with steward experience would be a good start for that post. And a unicorn, to boot. Go join the others by my desk, and try not to make too much noise,” the older pony groused, going on to interview the rest of the lined-up ponies.

It wasn’t long before the Head Steward finished with his interviewing, but it was long enough for Nightlight to figure out what he’d been looking for in coloring and cutie mark. Of the dozen or so ponies that had been pulled aside, all had dark coats of greys, blacks, blues, or purples, and every cutie mark in the group contained stars, the moon, or both. The fact that the stars on his own cutie mark were small and tertiary meant he’d just scarcely fulfilled that requirement, but it was apparently enough. As far as jobs went, there was a veritable smorgasbord, including four maids, two butlers, a librarian, the astronomy technician, a toaster repair pony, one of the night chefs, and a couple ponies that he didn’t recognize. Nightlight was the last to join the assembly.

Snowy Slopes bid the last of the rejects out of his office, took a look towards the afternoon sun (still three and a half hours until sunset, it looked like), and addressed the small crowd. “Well, as some of you may have heard, I have special assignments for a couple ponies in the night staff.” There was a little bit of optimistic muttering – those present had only heard there would be one. The hoary unicorn ignored the chatter and continued, “These may only be temporary positions, as I am preparing to expand the night staff significantly.” This triggered much louder conversation from the ponies in the room, and Slopes ignored it just as much. “And it is possible more qualified applicants may arrive. Nonetheless, these positions need to be filled immediately, and consequently, some of you will fill them.”

Slopes paused for a breath, and one of the maids took the opportunity to speak up, “What are these jobs, exactly? And why is the night staff going to get bigger?”

The Head Steward nickered in a surprising display of nerves and looked about the room slowly before answering, “I suppose it doesn’t hurt for you to find out now.” He nickered again, shaking his mane this time. “As you all know, yesterday’s Summer Sun Celebration was about two hours late. This is because…” He paused dramatically, “Princess Luna has returned to Equestria.”

“Horseapples!” shouted one of the ponies gathered amongst them, the on-call repair pony. “You mean the Mare in the Moon? She’s a legend!”

“It is true!” Slopes retorted loudly. “And if you wish to believe otherwise, you are dismissed. If anypony else,” he scanned the chamber while the offender vacated, “has trouble believing that Princess Luna exists, or for some reason refuses to work for her, you may leave now.” Nopony moved. “Good,” Slopes muttered, nickering once more as he calmed. “Naturally, the return of the Princess of the Night means that the night staff must become more robust to better serve her Highness’ needs, whatever they may be. You are all to be assigned roles as her personal staff and assistants.”

“So... that’s the cutie mark thing?” called a confused-looking mare.

"And the coloring?" questioned another.

“Why are there mostly unicorns?” asked a timid pegasus with a deep purple coat, quickly counting through the small group. “Why not more pegasi and earth ponies, too? What if she starts flying? Or...” The librarian stopped to think for a moment. “... I don’t know. What if she does some sort of earth pony thing?”

This question, apparently, was not beneath the Head Steward. “It is my opinion, that unicorns might be the best choices at the moment. I understand that the Princess- I mean, Princess Luna that is, does not do much flying, and as for ‘earth pony things’, I think you’ve answered yourself there.” Slopes seemed unfazed by the dirty glares he was receiving from the pair of earth ponies in the audience and continued with nary a thought. “The fact of the matter is, being a unicorn gives most of you a certain flexibility to follow orders you may not otherwise be prepared to accomplish, and we do not yet know all that will be expected of you. Nonetheless,” Slopes took on an especially stern tone here, “I bid you all remember the significance of your jobs. You are to be the personal assistants to Princess Luna, one of the Royal Pony Sisters, herself. Princess Celestia has personally reminded me that her sister is in every way her equal, and is to be treated as such. You are all to regard her with the respect and authority this merits, and if anypony fails in this task, I shall personally sign the papers to have you sacked. And arrested. Are there any questions?”

Nightlight had dozens, but he wasn’t about to admit it. Neither was anypony else. “Very well,” the Head Steward spoke. “In that case, Star Quill and I will be speaking with each of you individually about what your new assignments are going to be. First off is Miss Harvest Moon.” A midnight blue unicorn with a bright red moon for a cutie mark perked up. Slopes waved her into the office’s back room. “Princess Luna’s personal chef. Come with me.”

She followed Snowy Slopes and Star Quill, leaving the rest of the chosen servants to their own devices - mostly silence. Quiet was in the night staff’s blood, and everypony was still mulling over the implications of the Head Steward’s speech. 'Princess Luna? Back?' It seemed impossible.

About ten minutes later, the newly-promoted Lunar Chef dashed out of the room, wide-eyed and clenching a couple pages of paper in her mouth. She was soon followed by the Head Steward, who merely stuck his head out and summoned the next pony: Origami. Princess Luna’s new royal librarian galloped out in much the same state as Harvest Moon, except that she headed towards the libraries rather than the kitchens. Every other pony followed in suit, most taking fewer than five minutes before they sprinted out of the office to begin their new duties.

Finally, only the Assistant to the Secondary Night Steward remained. “Mister Nightlight, please come in.”

“Yes, sir.” Swallowing apprehensively, he did as he was bidden, stepping into Snowy Slopes’ personal office. He sat down on a spindly chair, in front of a small desk littered with personal effects and photographs. The most prominent was a tiny image of the old unicorn standing proudly besides Celestia herself. It was taken before color photography had been invented.

The white steward seated himself in a much larger chair on the other side of the desk, Star Quill standing to his right, and began in a surprisingly genial tone. “Mister Nightlight, I understand that your direct superior, Mister Noon Nap, is not an easy pony to work under. Is this true?”

Questions about one’s superiors were never safe to answer. Ever. Nightlight shot a glance to the Primary Night Steward, who simply nodded back. “Well…” he began, hoping his answer was the one they were looking for, “I wouldn’t say he’s easy to get along with, but... that’s not really my job, is it?” This elicited a mild scowl on Slopes’ face, forcing Nightlight to hurriedly clarify. “I mean, he’s not really hard to work for, I think. Just, well, get your job done and things turn out alright. That’s really the same as working for anypony, isn’t it?”

Star Quill and Snowy Slopes shared a strange look before turning back to Nightlight. “And would you say that you work well under duress?” asked the Head Steward.

Unprepared, the dark pony said the first thing that came to his mind: the truth. “No.” Another look was shared between the two, this one much more obvious in its disapproval. “That is… ”

Star Quill shrugged her shoulders helplessly at the unicorn seated beside her. “Well, at least he’s honest, right?” Snowy Slopes raised a suspicious eyebrow, probing for more. “I’ve never gotten any negative reports from his direct superior, either.” Nightlight had to give a concerted effort to keep from rolling his eyes. A lack of reports simply meant that Noon Nap was too lazy to fill out any paperwork. If his boss had ever bothered with a report, it'd probably have been as scathing as possible in as few words as Noon could use.

Not that either of the Head Stewards knew this. Snowy turned back to face the unicorn seated across his desk. With dire sobriety he explained, “Mister Nightlight, Princess Luna has specifically requested that she be assigned, what she called, a ‘royal consort’.”

What. “Is that-”

“No Mister Nightlight, it most certainly is not. While I must confess that I had to consult Princess Celestia about her sister’s meaning, this job is, as I understand it, something akin to a personal hoofservant, and you’ll be referred to as such. 'Lunar Hoofservant' is your official title, as of tonight. I believe that the best way to sum up your job is that it is your duty to assist Her Highness in anything she needs or wants done. You are to make certain that she is well-received, well-represented, and well-treated, and that everything is exactly as she would have it. Effectively…” The older unicorn made a dramatic motion with a hoof. “Her whim is your command.”

An unpleasant feeling overcame the little pony, somewhere between dire foreboding and impending doom. This sounded like a very, very difficult task. No, difficult was the wrong word. Perhaps impossible would be better. “Umm, sir, does that mean that I’m… well… responsible? For Her? For everything? I mean, it sounds like if anything goes wrong, then I’m…” he trailed off implicatively.

Snowy Slopes might have cringed a little as he answered. “Only to a certain extent. As Head Night Steward, Mrs. Quill is going to be overall responsible, however... you are the one that will be interacting with Princess Luna on the most immediate basis.”

“Well buck me.”

The Head Steward clopped a hoof against his desk. “Mister Nightlight, I feel obligated to inform you that the use of vulgarity in the presence of royalty is a severe legal offense, besides being utterly contrary to the professionalism you are to uphold.” He brought the same hoof up to his temple in a display of remarkably torn behavior. “But yes, precisely. Allow me to console you by saying that your post is the first we will try to replace, and that upon completion of your duties, you will be offered a promotion to full steward or a letter of recommendation to any employment you wish, coupled with a generous severance wage.” Which meant Nightlight was going to be set for life, if he pulled this job off. “But in the meantime, we have about seventy-five minutes until your first task; I saved you for last because you need to get the most background information you possibly can.” He pulled out a series of antique tomes and from under his desk. “Everything we were able to pull about Princess Luna.” He followed it up with a thick portfolio of papers. “Plus some suggestions from Princess Celestia herself.”

Awkwardly, Nightlight raised a hoof, as if he were back in grade school. “Umm… And what, exactly, is my first task?”

Slopes opened his folder and, without even looking up from his papers, responded, “Waking the Princess up.”

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

That was how the Assistant to the Secondary Night Steward found himself standing outside a room of the castle that hadn’t been occupied for a thousand years, until today; he had a job that hadn’t existed for a thousand years, until today; and he was readying to wake a princess that had been a legendary terror trapped on the moon for a thousand years, until today.

‘Make that yesterday,' he corrected himself. Supposedly, Princess Luna had spent all of yesterday in her bedchambers, attended upon by only the Head Steward and Princess Celestia herself. Now, tonight, was to be her first official night upon having returned, and it was Nightlight’s duty to see that everything went perfectly. He’d been told more than he could remember about ancient Equestrian government, been instructed on the way hoofservants were expected to behave, and briefed on as many of Princess Luna’s previous eccentricities as Celestia had remembered.

None of it made Nightlight feel any better about his upcoming duties. As far as he was concerned, Noon Nap's earlier words had been prophetic: he was about to screw up something important. Something royally important, to be precise.

It was 6:18 pm, ninety-eight minutes until sunset, and he had eight minutes left to come to grips with his new job. It could have been eight weeks, and it still wouldn’t have been enough time.

Nonetheless, it was his job, and he had to do it.

He took a step towards the menacing-looking charcoal guards flanking the doorway. Silence. Stillness. Nightlight hated having to talk to these types of ponies. “Ehh… I’m Nightlight, the Assistant to the Secondary Night Steward.” No response. “That is, I’m Her Hoofservant. I’ve come to, um, wake the Princess.”

In precise unison, the gold-barded guards nodded stoically, in what Nightlight could only presume to be a sort of cursory salute, and stepped to either side. After the momentary burst of activity, they once again returned to perfect stillness. ‘What I wouldn’t give for a piece of that calm,’ he mused as he silently magicked open the towering mahogany doors and peered into the darkness within. Taking a deep breath, Nightlight stepped cautiously into the dark, past the statuesque ponies on either side of him, and slowly shut the doors. His horn lit up with the yellowish glow of his magic, and sight was imbued with that one, best spell he knew. As the magic crept into his eyes, he beheld the room of Princess Luna and everything contained within for the first time in his life.

The first thing of note was that the princess’ sleeping chambers were not of the ornate décor that filled the rest of the castle. They spoke of an antiquated sense of decoration - one that ponies had long since abandoned in the last thousand years. Gone were the marble walls and floors; gone were the plush red carpets and billowy curtains; gone was the gilding; gone were the paintings, the vases, the tapestries. Everything was simpler. It was almost spartan in comparison. The floor, like the few pieces of furniture that ornamented the room, was of dark hardwoods, wenge and ebony amongst them. There was a small dresser and a silver mirror on one side of the room, and a brick fireplace cut into the opposite wall. Only two things marked this room as belonging to more than a simple pony. The first one was the great balcony just outside the room, covered by simple blue drapes but certainly commanding a glorious view of Canterlot and its surrounding countryside. The other feature, of course, was the oversized four-poster bed which dominated the absolute center of the room, and more particularly, its occupant. The wispy curtains surrounding it rustled gently as he approached.

Alright. This was it. ‘You can do it Nightlight. You’re ready. You’ve been training as a steward for more than a year. This isn’t that different, right? No reason to be nervous. None at all.’

The lie wasn’t convincing in the slightest; this was, after all the biggest event in Equestrian history for the last thousand years. ‘You know what you’re doing. You’re ready. Alright.'

He watched the curtains continue to flutter.

‘Yeah. You’re ready.'

The silhouette of a pony nearly twice his size was faintly visible on the other side of the thin curtains, the faintest of glows shining from within. She was reclining in a sleeping posture, hooves folded up beneath her, head tucked down on the bed.

‘You’re ready.’ Continuing his self-perjury, Nightlight gently slid back one of the curtains and did his best to refrain from gasping when he finally laid eyes upon the form behind them. He had some idea of what to expect, but expectation could never be a match for the real thing. She was stunning, and beautiful, and more than anything else, frightening. This was, after all, his sovereign.

Princess Luna, Mare of the Moon, Head of the Moon Court, First of the Selene Order, Co-Ruler of Equestria, and owner of whatever other titles Nightlight had already forgotten, slept peacefully before him. Her eyes lay gently shut, and her mighty chest rose and fell rhythmically. Her mane and tail, both spectral blue wisps of impossible star-stuff, floated above and beside her gently, shedding the faintest blue light upon the bed and her surroundings. The ebony mare seemed perfectly at peace in her slumber.

And he was supposed to wake her up. In all of his service, and all of his last-minute training, nopony had ever informed him of the proper method to wake a princess. ‘It’s not a regular pony’s role to wake his sovereign if she wants to sleep!’ his mind screamed at him. ‘Surely they simply wake themselves up, right?’ Nightlight looked towards a window to judge how long it was until sunset, only to realize that every window was covered, protecting the Lunar Princess from the sun. Eventually, his eyes wandered upon a tiny clock on the mantle: 6:27 pm. Eighty-nine minutes until sunset. One minute late. Apparently, princesses did not wake up on their own.

So he actually did have to wake her himself. But how? ‘Maybe just… calling her name?’ It would be complete blasphemy to actually touch her Highness, wouldn’t it? Nightlight prayed silently that Luna was a gentle riser, then realized with some irony that he was actually praying to her sister. ‘Can you pray to one goddess about another?’ He wasn’t sure.

‘And ultimately,' that little voice told him, ‘it doesn’t matter, so long as she doesn’t banish you to the moon for waking up on the wrong side of the bed. Or banish you to the sun, for that matter. That might be worse, no? Or maybe just the dungeon – that wouldn’t be nearly as bad.’

Every tangent exhausted and all his stalling completed, he finally found enough false confidence to begin. Steeling himself, Nightlight took a deep breath and, in his quietest voice, whispered to the shut-eyed goddess before him, “Umm, Princess Luna, it’s-”

“Seven. Minutes. Late.” The Lunar Princess’ eyes shot open to reveal a pair of cold teal irises. Her glare had enough force to put craters on the moon.

The moon. ‘Oh Goddesses.' It was like she could see into his soul. Barely able to force the breath of out his chest, he tried whispering an apology. “Umm, Princess-”

She rose to her hooves, towering over him at her full height, her mane whipping wildly as she gazed down upon the little unicorn who was to be her hoofservant. “Thou art seven minutes late!” she bellowed, “Thou darest to make thy sovereign wait?!”

Nightlight’s mouth dropped, his ears pinned themselves to his head, and his knees gave out. His brain couldn’t even attempt to form words.

“Thou hast the effrontery to impose thy will upon Us? Is thy time of greater value than Ours, We who rule the heavens of the night sky?! And suppose the moonrise is delayed, because of thy lateness! Wouldst thou take responsibility?!”

Barely able to croak out a whisper, Nightlight squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face into his mane. “I’m sorry,” he breathed even as she continued to yell, “I’m-”

This only seemed to enrage her. “SORRY?! Thou art sorry! Thou art a sorry excuse for a servant! Get thee gone! Gone!” she screamed, taking a step off her bed and towards Nightlight. “GONE!”

Nightlight’s job, as he’d been informed, was to obey every whim of Princess Luna. This particular whim was easy, because exactly what he wanted to do. Long tail tucked between his legs, the dark unicorn left her presence fast enough to make any pegasus jealous. He dashed out of her chambers, barreled through the great mahogany doors, over a pair of stupefied royal guards, and straight to the office of the Head Steward. With any luck, he’d be let off with just imprisonment or banishment to zebra lands; they could find some other pony fool enough to work this job.

It was eighty-two minutes until sunset, and it was a very unusual evening.

Seven Minutes Late

The Moon is a Harsh Mistress
by NavyPony

Chapter Two:
Seven Minutes Late

Six hallways, two staircases, and innumerable confused servants later, Nightlight found himself in the office of a very upset Head Night Steward.

“You what?!” Star Quill could not have mustered a third of the thunderous indignation that Nightlight had just witnessed, or even most of what Slopes could have managed were he present, but it didn’t stop the old mare from trying. “You can’t just quit your post five minutes in! Think about the shame you’ll bring on us! We’re servants of-”

“Seven,” Nightlight muttered with a panicked look still locked on his face. “Seven minutes…”

The interruption seemed to further provoke Quill, “I don’t care if it’s seven minutes! I don’t care if it’s seven years! You can’t abandon your responsibilities at all! Until you’re properly relieved or officially dismissed, you have no choice in the matter!”

“…late.”

“Ehh?” The Head Night Steward scrunched her face up in confusion, not having connected the two halves of the sentence. “Late?”

“I was seven minutes late.” Nightlight managed to regain just enough composure to speak in a regular volume and shift out of his shell-shocked monotone. “Seven minutes late. Waking the Princess. She… she… I’m…” Nightlight’s hooves suddenly became very interesting to him as the panic settled into shame. “… quitting.”

The steel colored unicorn clopped a hoof on her desk loudly enough to snap her subordinate out of his reverie. “It’s a bit late for that isn’t it?” she hissed. “If you didn’t want the job, you shouldn’t have taken it; I gave you the chance to refuse the job, didn’t I?” Nightlight didn’t remember that conversation, if it had actually existed. Nonetheless, the elderly unicorn’s harangue didn’t give him the chance to interrupt. “Now you’re committed, and to her royal highness, Princess Luna, no less. By the honor of the Night Stewards, you’re going to march back to her chambers, the dining hall, or wherever the hay she is at the moment, and apologize. Profusely. Then you’re going to continue serving her to the best of your capacity, whatever that may be.”

“But I-”

“You are going to carry out your responsibilities, Nightsight, or you are going to personally inform her Highness why you were unable to do so. If you want to quit, we can talk about it in the morning or you can turn your resignation in to Princess Luna personally.”

“But I-”

“Is what I said clear, Nightbright?”

Whatever rigidity had remained in his shoulders disappeared as Nightlight slumped. Ponies couldn’t just waltz up to a goddess and quit their posts – it’d be like asking for a one-way trip to the dungeons. “Yes ma’am, it’s crystal clear,” he muttered, examining the carpet between his forehooves. It just wasn’t fair. “Is… is that all?”

“Yes. Get to finding the Princess and back to work. You are dismissed,” the Head Night Steward barked, turning back to a colossal sheaf of papers. “And no more screw-ups!” she called without looking up.

Sufficiently cowed, Nightlight faced about and departed Star Quill’s office in a much calmer, but certainly no happier state than the one he arrived in. With as much composure as he could reasonably muster, he reluctantly made his way back through the castle. While he was slightly less scared for his personal well-being than he had been, the remainder of the evening wasn’t looking any better from his perspective. Putting off royal interaction for as long as possible (up to and including the remainder of his life) being the first and foremost thing on his to-do list, Nightlight found himself moving much more slowly than was normal for him. He soon decided that the best and worst parts of moving slowly were the same – the opportunity for thought.

‘How does a pony deal with a living goddess?’ Nightlight didn’t know; it wasn’t something he’d had much experience with. ‘Okay then… how does a pony not deal with a living goddess?’ Ambiguity of the Equestrian language was every servant’s bane… and friend. ‘Do you mean to ask what the wrong things to do are, or the best way to not do?’ Realization struck Nightlight: if he never found Princess Luna over the course of the night, she wouldn’t be able to banish him, and then he could quit in the morning. There were no downsides whatsoever!

‘So then… how do you do that?’ The obvious component was simply to avoid the princess, but come morning, he’d need to have an alibi for the entire night, wouldn’t he? Although Princess Luna might not miss him, other ponies (Star Quill and Snowy Slopes, to name a few) would notice that he was nowhere to be found, so it wasn’t as if he could just spend the hours hiding in an empty room. ‘No… you have to make yourself seen. Let other ponies know that you’re trying to do your job, without doing it. That’s…’ It wasn't that hard, actually. Giving the appearance of work without actually working was one of the first tricks any servant learned, whether or not they actually used it – there was even a mnemonic for it. ‘What was it… worry, hurry, scurry?’ All he had to do was rush about the castle looking for Princess Luna without actually finding her, and as long as everypony that saw him thought that he looked busy, they wouldn’t say anything. Right?

‘Right. So the only question is: where can I start looking that she could legitimately be, but wouldn’t reasonably be?’ It didn’t take him long to go over the evening’s hypothetical schedule. It was six fifty-nine, fifty-seven minutes until sunset/moonrise – dinnertime. Which meant Princess Luna would be in the Grand Hall. Which meant that Nightlight ought to head towards the princess’ chambers, where she had just been. ‘Actually, you might be able to just follow a couple steps behind her all night, looking for her without ever quite catching up?’

Over the course of some two staircases and four corridors, Nightlight was so caught up in his own thoughts that he failed to notice the distinct lack of other servants. In fact, he was hardly aware of the conspicuous silence about him until another pony broke it. “You there!” shouted a gruff voice from the end of the hallway. “You look familiar – what’s your job?”

Nightlight firmly believed that charcoal-coated ponies in royal armor were always bad news. Today turned out to be no exception. “I’m… the Assistant to the Secondary Night Steward. Is there a problem?” It was a stupid question. Nightlight had never seen a worried guard before, and this guard looked worried enough for three ponies.

The unicorn guard nickered as he approached the young servant with apparent relief. “Not anymore. Follow me.”

“Uhh…” Before Nightlight could argue, the large guard wrapped a hoof around his neck and began ushering him in the exact direction he’d been headed. Resistance was pointless – this unicorn was a hoof and a half taller, and had enough magic to rip him to shreds. The only option was to go along with the frightened soldier. “You… uh… said there was a problem?”

His question was answered when an enormous voice boomed from out of sight in the castle. It was a frighteningly familiar sound. “Where is Our hoofservant?! Thou claimest servitude, but art unable to accomplish this, the most menial of tasks? Ignominy upon thee!”

They were still far enough away that a pony speaking with regular volume could not have been heard, but Nightlight’s panic wouldn’t have allowed him to hear the response even if they were closer. Swearing oaths to Discord, he tried turning tail only to find himself enveloped in a pale green aura and floating a couple inches above the ground. His legs churned uselessly beneath him as he began to float closer to the source of the voice. “L-Let me down!” he cried, lighting up his own horn to try fighting off the enveloping glow. His efforts proved useless against the hold of a trained soldier.

“I don’t think so,” grunted the armored unicorn. “I figured you for a runner… good lu-”

The guard’s hoarse voice was cut off by the sound of Princess Luna continuing her tirade. It seemed to Nightlight that the very walls of the castle were shaking. “It concerns Us not! If thy deputies art incapable of performing so, it falls upon thee to fulfill the tasks laid down! Toil might be shifted down, but accountability is immobile! The liability remains with thee!”

Suddenly, avoiding Princess Luna seemed to be a far more urgent task than it ever had been. “By Her Hooves, let me go! Please! I’m begging you! Please pleasepleaseplease let me-”

Whatever pony was trying to speak to the Princess was not given much of a chance, judging from the short time before she started up again. “We are not interested in thy paltry vindications! Obedience is thy onus – if thou cannot perform the tasks assigned, perhaps thou art not fit for thy station! Go join thy deputies in combing if they are unable! GO!”

Legs still flailing futilely beneath him and his own magic sputtering uselessly, the assistant steward was levitated around a corner just in time to see another member of the Unicorn Corps galloping down the hallway, presumably away from the fearsome voice of the princess. The running guard, dressed in slightly more ornate armor than the one that had captured Nightlight, stopped once he laid eyes upon the duo approaching him. “Galloping goddesses! Pine Fresh, is that the pony she’s looking for?”

Pine Fresh didn’t miss a beat as he maintained his grip on the dark-hued servant. “Ehh…” He shrugged his shoulder nonchalantly. “No clue, but he said he was a night steward. That’s close enough, yeah?”

Ignoring the obvious alarm in Nightlight’s eyes, the senior guard shrugged with relief. “Good enough for me.” Wrapping his own aura (a wooden brown) around Pine Fresh’s green, the new guard began assisting with the telekinetic transport of their catch. “Sorry about this kid,” he consoled with a tone that didn’t suggest any degree of sympathy. “But she’s the bucking princess. If I didn’t get somepony to be her hoofservant soon, she’ll…” he trailed off, shivering at whatever threats the night princess had laid upon him. “I haven’t felt like that since basic training. Anyways, you ready for this?”

Only one word came to mind. “No!” he declared, shaking his head frantically.

“Rough.” With that, the pair of guards floated the fearful servant around the final corner, into the sight of a fuming goddess. With particular smugness, the superior guard announced, “We’ve located your hoofservant, your Maj-”

The chief guard was cut off when the dark princess laid eyes upon her airborne servant with a stark realization. “Thou!” she roared, immediately recognizing the little unicorn from earlier. “Thou art Our hoofservant?! The one who so avariciously weighted his time before Ours?!” Nightlight thanked… everything that alicorns, powerful as they might be, weren’t mind readers, and couldn’t hear the vulgarities repeating in his head. Nonetheless, it was only luck that kept the foul words in his mind and off his lips. “Not only art thou blamable for Our tardiness in rising, but also Our current unpunctuality! Dost thou possess any vindication thou might allege for thine delay?” A short silence occurred while the two guards released Nightlight, allowing him to drop unceremoniously to the floor. “WELL?”

At this point, the two guards had taken several steps back, mostly out of fear, but Nightlight could only look up at the towering goddess from the floor and sum up the situation to the best of his understanding. “What?”

This only served to further perturb the furious princess. “Wouldst thou rather We perorate in lexes more happening to one of thy unpretentious intellect? Very well! THOU! ART! LATE!” Even as she gained volume, her voice seemed to become colder and the room about them seemed to darken; the guards were nowhere to be seen. Princess Luna bent low towards the servant lying prone before her, staring him in the face and hissing, “Why is this?”

Somewhere, in the very back of Nightlight’s mind, some scrap of his training had taken hold. Whether it was a matter of his honest disposition, the efficacy of his indoctrination as a servant, or simply an inability to concoct a persuasive answer, the dark pony gave the most basic response available to a servant. “No excuse.” The teal eyes staring at him widened just slightly, and he repeated himself slightly louder. “I… have no excuse, your Highness. I was late because I was frightened.”

The dark queen snorted angrily before responding. “Foal,” she spoke in a voice loud enough to be any other pony’s shouting. “Because of thy fears, We are belated. Thy timeliness, or lack thereof, shall be addressed at length in the future, but for now We have no more time to squander upon thee.” Finally she looked away from the trembling pony on the ground, staring down the hallway and towards the rest of the castle. Stamping a hoof on the ground with enough force to crack stone, she shouted, “Lead Us to the Grand Hall, that We might break fast.” She stood still for a moment, holding her pose while her tiny audience stared in shock. “Immediately.”

That snapped him from his paralysis physically, if not mentally. “Y-yes your Highness.” Nodding for nopony’s benefit, Nightlight got to his feet with a nearly robotic detachment from his surroundings. ‘Order from the Princess. Breakfast. Grand Hall.’ He knew where the Grand Hall was… this was an easy order to fulfill. “R-right this way, P-P-Princess.” Hiding his face in his long mane, the young hoofservant began marching towards the royals’ dining hall, without a glance behind him. ‘Just pretend she’s not there. Just pretend she’s not there. You’re just walking to the Grand Hall without a dangerous alicorn behind you. Yeah.’

No. Even discounting the sharp click, click, click, of her silver horseshoes striking the stone hallways, her presence was impossible to ignore. He could veritably feel her existence, an oppressive aura emanating from behind him. Just being around her was enough to make him break out in cold sweat. When other ponies spotted them from across the hall most would freeze momentarily before fleeing as if they’d just seen the grim reaper. ‘Or perhaps Nightmare Moon,’ he reflected. ‘How many ponies know that Princess Luna is back?’ Judging from the looks they were getting, the answer was close to zero.

Fortunately, the princess seemed indifferent to most of the frightened ponies scurrying about. Unfortunately, there was one pony that she was concerned with. “Hoofservant,” she snapped, sending Nightlight jumping into the air, “make haste. We are already late.”

By the time he hit the ground, he was already in a fast canter. “Umm… y-yes. Yes, your Highness.” The steady click, click, click, of her steps didn’t change tempo in the slightest, as her longer legs easily matched his pace. They turned a corner, frightening off a host of servants bearing platters of food, but Nightlight ignored them. “Is, is this better?”

“Hardly,” she spat with surprising quiet. “But it matters not.”

“Y-Y-Your Highness?” Nightlight faced back in bewilderment, turning to look at her for the first time in the last ten minutes. ‘Why does it not matter? Is she finished with me? What does that mean? Is she going to-’ Princess Luna’s gaze didn’t leave the doorway in front of her as she moved around her guide and into the Grand Hall. ‘Grand Hall? We’re here?’ It dawned on Nightlight that he’d been so frightened of the princess that he hadn’t actually been paying attention to where they were; he’d simply been moving on autopilot.

Nightlight could only stare as she trotted around the last corner. “Follow Us,” she hissed from out of sight, leaving the poor pony to scramble after her.

When he finally collected himself enough to interpret and obey her orders, the scene he faced in the hall was entirely unlike what he’d expected. The entire room was done up in the finery usually reserved for major celebrations and balls, complete with decorative columns, tapestries, and statues. It looked as if Celestia Statues #6-#8 had also been brought out of storage specifically for the occasion. The day staff must have been working continuously to set this up in such short time – events like the gala usually required days of planning followed by weeks of set-up, but Nightlight knew that this room had been in its usual state when he’d gone to sleep in the morning.

Even more surprising than the decorations were the ponies contained within. All along the outside edges of the room and filling the balcony on the upper level were hundreds of ponies in their best outfits. Not all of them were nobles, either. There were palace servants in their most formal uniforms and even commoners in the mix, although they seemed to be grouped accordingly. All of them were intently focused on the little grey table in the center of the room, set out for two. One of the seats was already taken.

The white mare at the far end of the table rose, a gentle smile adorning her face. She unfurled her wings, lifted her horned head, and spoke. “Sister, how good it is to see you. I am glad to have you back.” Nopony in the room, Nightlight included, could help but smile – such was the effect of their sovereign’s bubbly voice. It was only after Princess Celestia’s words faded to silence and the crowd laid eyes upon the unthinkable that some of the smiles faded. Celestia’s presence was not enough to keep the murmurs of ‘Nightmare Moon’ from the crowd’s lips.

If she heard the hushed mutterings (and the dark steward was certain she did), Princess Luna was unfazed by them. She trotted to the table in old passage*, head held high and seeming to dance as she moved. “Yourself as well, sister,” she responded. “It is good to be back.”

It was an elegant, feminine voice, one both soft and subtle, but moreover a voice completely at odds with the one she’d been using up to that point. It was so different from what he expected that Nightlight stumbled over his own hooves in surprise, resorting to a clumsy skipping movement to keep from tumbling across the ballroom floor. Nopony noticed. In fact, it seemed entirely unlikely that any of the ponies in the room had actually noticed his presence. ‘Which, honestly, is the best I can actually hope for,’ he considered with some relief. Every servant knew that the best form of recognition was no recognition. Cantering a couple steps to catch up, Nightlight fell back in step behind the princess while she made empty small talk with her sister.

“And how have you been, sister, in the time I’ve been away?”

They were two dozen steps from the grey table.

“As well as might be hoped, but no better. I’ve missed you terribly, sister.”

Seventeen steps away, and they were speeding up.

“And I you, sister. It seems things have been very much in order?”

They were eleven steps away.

“They will be better with you here, sister. But where are my manners? Won’t you take a seat and join me?”

Four steps. Princess Celestia motioned to the seat opposite her with a smile.

Two steps away. Princess Luna stopped, beaming kindly. “I would love to, sister.”

Nightlight stopped.

Not knowing what else to do, he just stood in place behind her. ‘All I have to do is not move and I can’t mess up, right?’ Nightlight simply stood still.

Perfectly still.

Totally, perfectly, still.

Then a sharp, almost inaudible sound struck his ears. “Pull out Our chair.”

Totally, entirely, perfectly, still.

“Now, foal.” It was just an edge louder this time, but still quiet enough that nopony else could possibly hear it.

The Princesses just smiled at each other.

Totally, entirely, absolutely, perfectly, still.

Princess Luna actually moved a fraction of an inch as she hissed at him. “If thou dost not pull Our chair out forthright, thy-”

Nightlight’s ears started working right in time to learn of his impending fate. ‘BUCKBUCKBUCKBUCKBUCK ME!’ he screamed internally, even as he wrapped a glow of yellowish magic around the large chair and slid it out enough for the dark alicorn to fit between it and the table. Both princesses sat down in perfect unison, and began their meal.

Nightlight simply stood still.

They’d arrived nineteen minutes late. It was forty-one minutes until sunset.

Standing still for the thirty-one minutes the meal took place, Nightlight had nothing better to do than watch and listen. Unexpectedly, The Royal Pony Sisters spoke of nothing important throughout the course of the meal. Never touching on the reason for Luna’s homecoming, they made small talk, discussing the weather, each other’s appearances, and the meal before them. Said meal was brought out and announced by a pale green earth pony which Nightlight recognized as Celestia’s personal chef, and a midnight blue unicorn who seemed remarkably calm. It was an enormous four-course meal, but the two of them partook lightly, hardly eating more than a couple bites from each dish. Throughout the procession, the hundreds of ponies surrounding them simply watched and whispered, listening to a pair of immortal goddesses chat about… nothing, like they really were sisters. Eventually he simply shut out the sounds of their chitchat.

At some point in the middle of it all, Nightlight finally understood the point. These ponies had come to watch the sisters dine, but judging from their reactions at Luna’s arrival, nopony had known that she was returned until tonight. ‘This is their way of announcing her return without announcing it, isn’t it?’ They were avoiding serious subjects because… why? ‘Have they not decided what she’s going to do? Will they save that for something else? There’ll be a lot of changes soon, won’t there?’

It was eleven minutes to sunset when both Princess Celestia and Princess Luna both rose to their hooves. The movement alone shook Nightlight out of his reverie. ‘Be ready, Night. We’re going to be moving soon.’

He was right, but not before the sisters finished their conversation. “And will you be reassuming your duties raising the moon, dear sister?” Celestia asked, inciting a wave of murmurs through the crowd.

Luna responded with a humble smile and a bell-like peal of laughter. “Of course, sister, as long as you promise to raise the sun in the morning.” Half the tension in the room vanished. “After all, I don’t envy anypony responsible for both the sun and the moon.”

The joke was that Celestia had done both for a thousand years. Right? ‘Was that a joke?’ Nightlight wasn’t sure. Everything seemed surreal. Alicorns weren't supposed to joke.

Celestia’s smile widened an edge beyond its usual composure at her sister’s remark. “Of course I’ll raise the sun tomorrow dear sister. Though, I must admit that in my experience the sun’s not so bad; it’s the night that’s more difficult.”

“Oh? Then isn’t it fortunate that I have returned?” Luna laughed once again, filling the hall with the same incongruous ringing sound before nodding to her sister. “Unfortunately, I find that it is almost time for me to take my leave.” The Moon Princess rose to her feet, subtly pushing her chair out from under her while the Sun Princess did the same. “After all sister, it is nearly moonrise.”

“Not before sunset, my sister,” the older mare chuckled.

“Of course not.” Luna closed her eyes and bowed her head a fraction of an inch while she concluded. “It is good to see you again, Celestia.”

To the shock of everypony in the room, Celestia returned the gesture in kind, inclining her head an equal amount. “And you too, Luna. I’ve missed you.”

Without warning and in perfect harmony, the princesses both broke the bow and turned away from each other, beginning to trot out doors on the opposite ends of the room. As intensely mindful of the action as every other pony in the room, Nightlight had enough discernment to realize he probably ought to follow the Lunar Princess. Without having to be told, he turned as she passed, trailing directly behind the stately alicorn as she trotted out. She kept to a light pace until she turned out of sight, dropping her indulgent smile and returning to a more normal gait. ‘Of course, it’s not as if you actually know what’s normal for her, do you?’ This ignorance made itself acutely known when the princess simply stopped walking and turned to face Nightlight.

If it had been any other pony (not counting her sister), he might’ve pointed out that staring was rude. It being the immortal being who was once Nightmare Moon, Nightlight chose to stay silent and try to keep his legs from trembling. ‘Oh goddess, did I do something wrong? Did I forget to push her chair in when we walked out? No, I forgot to pull it out for her, and I was supposed to, wasn’t I? No, I didn’t turn to follow her soon enough, or she noticed me trip, or –’

“Hoofservant.” She’d returned to a cold tone to match her stare.

Nightlight’s attempts at composure failed utterly. “Y-y-yes, your Highness?”

Luna showed no concern over her servant's trepidation. “Lead Us to the Astral Dais. We have but a modicum of time prior to moonrise, and must convene there with Our sister to observe the formalities.” When her demands failed to elicit a reaction from her servant, she simply repeated herself with increased volume. "Lead Us to the Astral Dais."

He simply continued stare back at the princess, his eyes widening in fear and legs moving from ‘tremble’ to ‘vibrate’.

“Well? What is thy problem?” Silence. “Answer us!”

Nightlight took a deep breath before he could stutter out a response. “Y-your H-H-Highness… w-what’s the Ast-t-tral D-Dais?” Princess Luna’s narrowed eyes widened in… shock? Anger? Nightlight had never known a pony to do that when angry, but tonight was a night of firsts. ‘Oh goddess, please don’t-’

Her spectral blue mane whipped back in a burst of unfelt turbulence. “What is the Astral Dais?!” she thundered, as if she didn’t believe the question was serious. “The Astral Dais is the ceremonial location wherefrom the astral bodies are maneuvered! The platform from which Our sister shall lower Her sun, and We are to raise Our moon!” A tinge of distress, distinct from her anger, had begun to enter her voice. “We are to meet Our sister there immediately!”

“I-I-I…” He was SO getting banished to the sun for this. “I don’t know… where it is.”

At this point it was obvious that her upset was more than anger, although that still comprised the majority. “Foal! Thou art Our Hoofservant! How dost thou not know from whence Our moon is risen?!”

An unbidden thought dripped through Nightlight’s mind as she asked her question. ‘Why doesn’t she just go without- Oh.’ She didn’t know where this place was. ‘She… probably doesn’t know where anything is.’ That was probably why she’d waited outside her chambers for him – she didn’t know where the Grand Hall was. That was why she was so upset about not knowing where this Dais-place was – she didn’t know. Which meant… If neither of them knew where this place was…

It was eight minutes until sunset, and he knew that the moon was going to be late.

That couldn’t happen, could it? ‘No… No. No. No. Think, Night, think,’ he started to tell himself.‘They must’ve told you where this place is during your briefing earlier. Think, think.’ He wracked his brain, going through every subject Snowy Slopes and Star Quill had covered this afternoon. ‘They mentioned dinner, then said Luna would join Celestia afterwards to officially lower the sun and raise the moon…’ It was to no avail; if they’d told him where this place was, he couldn’t remember.‘Alright Night, don’t panic yet. What do you do when there’s a problem you can’t solve?’ Ask your higher-ups for the solution. ‘No good. Not enough time to find them.’ Ask anypony else for the solution? ‘Better, but…’ Apart from him and the raging alicorn, the corridor was empty. ‘Why are there no other ponies around!? Where are the guards!?’ Left with no other recourse, Nightlight could do nothing but despair. ‘Where’s Princess Celestia!?’

Nightlight’s thought process may have been shutting down, but the Lunar Sovereign’s hadn’t. “FROM WHERE DOES OUR SISTER RAISE THE SUN?”

“I- that- the…” He didn’t actually know; he was usually performing turnover with the day stewards during sunrise. “Her room, maybe?”

The princess struck a hoof against the marble floor in frustration, sending flecks of stone into the air. “IT WILL BE THE TALLEST PLACE WITHIN THE CASTLE! WHERE IS THE ASTRONOMY TOWER?!”

Astronomy Tower? ‘Oh!’ “The observatory!” ‘But that’s not-’

“BRING US TO THIS OBSERVATORY!”

It was seven minutes to sunset when Nightlight took off at a dead spring for the observatory tower.

At an efficient trot and without stopping for any reason, it would’ve normally taken an unathletic unicorn just under ten minutes to get from the Grand Hall to the observatory. If it was an urgent manner and the pony was galloping hard, five minutes was quite possible. As it turned out, having an irate goddess for motivation allowed a pony to sprint the distance in three minutes.

Panting hard as he finished the stairs, Nightlight threw open the doors to the observatory for the surprisingly calm alicorn he was leading. It was four minutes to sunset.

There was just one problem. Examining the chamber languidly, the dark goddess commented that, “This is not the Astral Dais.” An ominous, pregnant pause ensued, but there was not time for Nightlight to interpret the meaning behind Her Highness’ words before she spoke again. “Hoofservant,” she asked smoothly, shifting her scrutiny from her surroundings to her retainer, “is this not the highest point within the castle?”

Gravity seemed to increase by an order of magnitude for Nightlight, feeling the weight of the princess’ gaze.

In spite of her bloodcurdling glower, her wrathful countenance, and the way her mane churned as if it were in a hurricane, Princess Luna’s voice never raised a decibel. In fact, it never showed the smallest measure of emotion. “I take that for a ‘nay’. That being so, where, precisely, is the highest point?”

While it would’ve made sense for the observatory to be the tallest aspect of the castle, Equestria's builders and architects had augmented the palace over the years with more thought to their own fame than the needs of the astronomers. The result was that the most recent addition to the castle, the spire jutting furthest from the mountainside, was also the tallest. Named ‘The Glorious Star Keep of Our Illustrious Goddess’ by its designer, it was so-called for almost a hundred years until a passing maid let slip to Celestia what the servants had pragmatically dubbed it. “The Tall Tower.”

Luna bent down towards her hoofservant until she was only inches from his nose. Her frozen teal eyes just widened, and widened, and widened until they consumed everything else. “Take me to this Tall Tower.”

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

It was 8:03 pm when Nightlight came to. The confused pony re-entered reality to find himself in the topmost chamber of the Tall Tower, watching the Princess of the Moon usher in the night, Her night, for the first time in a millennium.

It was the most beautiful thing that Nightlight had ever seen.

Exuding an atmosphere of gentle serenity and flapping her wings far less than should have been necessary, she rose above a small design cut into the balcony, until she reached some seemingly arbitrary height. Hovering, she raised her forehooves to the sky and was suddenly wrapped in an aura of deep blue. Or was it an aura of silver? Indigo? Slate grey? Sapphire? Black? Cobalt? Charcoal? Navy? All the colors of the night seemed to blend together, embracing their mother in a surreal blend. Without warning, she flicked her wings out to their full span, and the moon exploded over the horizon, larger and brighter than it had been seen in living history.

The night goddess paused momentarily, perhaps to simply bask in the glory of her work, before elegantly gesturing with a forehoof. Starlight began to fall from the sky like rain. At first it was only a couple points shining through the dark, the brightest stars used for navigation, but they were soon followed. Constellations appeared, and then other, smaller designs. Before long, great swirls and whorls of star-stuff painted the heavens, entire galaxies and nebulae visible to the naked eye. Flights of shooting stars began to skip about the night sky. The aurora, usually only visible in remote northern regions, stretched its multi-colored fingers above the horizon.

It had been a thousand years since anypony had beheld such a night sky.

With a rich sigh, the smaller alicorn landed and finally opened her eyes to gaze upon her efforts. “I’ve missed this,” she finally whispered.

“I have, too,” murmured the compassionate voice of Princess Celestia. “It’s good to have you back.”

Nightlight was so enraptured in what he’d just witnessed that he hadn’t even been aware there were ponies in the room besides himself and Luna. He didn’t care. He couldn’t care, not after seeing that. “Wow.”

The satisfied expression on the princess’ face vanished for a moment when she heard Nightlight’s voice. A second later, her countenance returned to the airy mien it had just been. “Tia, would you be so kind as to step outside for a moment?”

“Lulu…” the white princess crooned, glancing at the oblivious black unicorn, “Do you really-”

She didn’t even allow her sister to finish the question, cutting her off with exasperation in her voice. If Nightlight had been paying more than half-hearted attention to anything other than the sky, he might’ve recognized this as an old argument. “Yes. Yes I do. And don’t tell me otherwise. Whatever the case, he’s my servant to deal with as I see fit. He is my responsibility.”

Celestia pursed her lips, pausing briefly before responding in an intimate tone. “Of course. I’m sorry sister, it wasn’t my place.” She turned her head to face Nightlight, speaking matter-of-factly as she walked out of the chamber. “Please summon a pair of guards for my sister, and have a guest room prepared before you retire for the night.”

‘Is she…’ Princess Celestia was talking to him. ‘What? Retire for the night? Is… what… that? I sleep during the day.’ So confused.

From nowhere, an elderly white unicorn took a step into Nightlight’s peripheral vision, joining the Princess as she exited. “Yes, Highness. Will that be all?” Snowy Slopes asked, sparing a glance at the young servant he was leaving behind. The usually stoic Head Steward looked almost apologetic, evoking significant concern in Nightlight. ‘Where are they going, and why does he seem so… oh. Buck.’

“Yes, I’m expecting my student to be arriving soon, and my sister will be needing somepony to-” The doors snapped shut behind the pair as they marched out, leaving him alone with a certain alicorn.

An alicorn who had the right to be very, very angry with her hoofservant.

The quiet click, click, click of horseshoes striking stone resounded from a corner of the room that Nightlight absolutely refused to look at. ‘Moonrise was late.’

Click, click, click.

He wished, not for the first time, nor for the last, that he knew how to teleport.

Click, click, click.

Barring teleportation, the painless suicide spell taught to secret agents would have been good enough.

Click, click, click.

Nightlight shoved his face into his long mane, unable to do anything other than brace himself for the inevitable. His brain was whipping at a million miles an hour, adrenaline was pumping through his system, and he’d already begun to sweat. The most coherent thought he was able to form amounted to, ‘Please don’t kill me.’

Luna did not even look at him, instead frowning angrily out a window. It was as if speaking to Nightlight was now beneath her.

“Seven. Minutes. Late.”

‘Oh goddesses, please...’

Princess Luna didn’t speak above a conversational volume, but to call it speech did not do her words justice. Her words were not formed from sound, but rather from the coldness of space. “The moon was seven minutes late tonight, because of you. I was seven minutes late tonight, because of YOU. Already you were late in rousing me, required me to wait without my quarters for you, caused me to be unpunctual for dinner, and embarrassed me before my subjects and my sister, to say nothing of the minor failings that I have not time to list. This, however… THIS WAS UNPARDONABLE!”

She exploded, turning on her hooves and marching violently toward her cowering servant as she began to scream. “IT IS ONE THING TO INCONVENIENCE ME. IT IS YET WORSE THAT YOU HUMILIATE ME IN FRONT OF MY SUBJECTS, WITH YOUR INCOMPETENCE AND LATENESS. BUT YOU DARE MAKE THE MOON ITSELF LATE!? THE MOON, THE STARS, THE NIGHT, AND EVERYPONY WHO IS TO BEHOLD THEM MUST WAIT UPON YOUR CONVENIENCE!? OR IS IT MERELY YOUR INEPTITUDE!? YOU USELESS, BUNGLING FOAL! ONE CANNOT AFFORD TO BE INCOMPETENT WHEN ALL OF EQUESTRIA SUFFERS FOR YOUR FAILURES!”

It was not until her Highness turned away from him and walked back to the balcony that Nightlight realized the sheer force of her voice had been pushing him into the wall to his rear. Her volume returned to a more normal level as she did so, but the same awesome weight remained in her speech. “One cannot rightly claim that which is undeserved…” she uttered, staring up at the full moon, “and Equestria does not deserve you. It deserves better. The Night deserves better. As of moonset this evening, you are the lowest of my servants. You are no longer a steward, and you will no longer be treated as such. Until you can perform in the capacity that Equestria herself deserves, you are merely a servant, and an incompetent one at that.”

The darkness rippled around the Lunar Princess, and Nightlight couldn’t help but wonder if Nightmare Moon had returned instead of Princess Luna. “Get out of my presence.”

“Now.”

* A/N: Passage (rhymes with ‘massage’) - refers to a specific and relatively difficult horse gait. It looks vaguely like a slow-motion trot with a lot of air-time between steps. Calling it ‘old passage’ is just to emphasize that it would seem incredibly formal to a pony, and is probably not used.

Everypony's Lectures

The Moon is a Harsh Mistress
by NavyPony

Chapter Three:
Everypony's Lectures

The voice sounded more like a griffon’s than a pony’s. “Hey, you! You there, unicorn! In the name of the Royal Guard, halt!”

Nightlight did not halt, he did not answer, and he did not react to the muscular pegasus moving up to him. But of all the things he didn’t do, caring was chief amongst them. It was very difficult to care about anything at the moment. Or perhaps everything was difficult at the moment – Nightlight wasn’t really sure. The easiest thing to do was simply continue to trudge down from the castle and into the city proper, and that was pretty difficult in and of itself.

The burly sentry caught up without any effort worth mentioning, but was nonetheless perturbed. Rare was the pony that would ignore a guard’s orders, even amongst palace staff. “You!” he uttered, stopping in the middle of the road in front of Nightlight, “I ordered you to stop and answer me! What is your business leaving the castle?”

He stopped and stared at the white pegasus listlessly. The sentinel repeated his question, more loudly this time, while Nightlight decided on the most painless course of action. He took two steps to the right, hiked apathetically around his challenger, and continued back on his original path.

This was apparently too much for the young guard to tolerate. “Fine, have it your way.” Once more hopping in front of the apathetic steward, he spread his wings wide in a threatening gesture and bellowed, “Stop right there, criminal scum!”

The guard’s partner must have been watching the proceedings from his post at the castle gates. Finally deciding to act, he took flight and closed the distance, taking it upon himself to clop a hoof against his comrade’s helm as he landed. “Calm down Galea, you can’t say that unless he’s actually a criminal. Has he assaulted anypony?”

“… No.”

“Stolen or pickpocketed anything?”

“I don’t think so…”

“Is he trespassing?”

“No, sergeant.”

“Not… gasp! Murder?”

The younger guard just frowned at his superior.

“Well, if he hasn’t done any of these things and he doesn’t have a bounty on his head, it doesn’t sound as if he’s a criminal, does it?”

“No, but-”

“No excuses, lance corporal, this is no way to treat a citizen. Get your flank back to the gate.” Ee pointed a hoof towards the post the two of them were just guarding. “I’ll take care of this.” Lance Corporal Galea stomped back to the entrance to the palace grounds, nickering angrily. “And you, sir…” He turned back to the street, only to find it conspicuously empty – Nightlight had continued his trek through the entire ordeal. “Typical.” The grizzled pegasus took wing and sailed further down the road, catching up to the black unicorn. “I’m sorry my partner was bothering you, sir, there’s something going on at the castle tonight and he’s bothered we pulled guard duty outside.” He received no reaction for his efforts, and continued trotting alongside. “But we do need your name for our records of all the guests coming and leaving; it wouldn’t do for somepony to get lost inside without us knowing, right?” Once again, no answer. “Sir, I’m afraid that I need to either take your name, or take you into custody. We’ve had orders from the Chief of the Guard, and I have to follow them.”

Nightlight decided that the effort required to talk was worth the pain it would save him in the future, if just barely. Continuing to stare forward as he walked, he muttered, “Nightlight, Assistant to the Secondary Night Steward.”

The pegasus raised a broad eyebrow and adopted a much sterner tone than he’d had earlier. “A servant, huh? In that case, I’ll have to ask your busine-”

“Leaving.”

This was not the correct answer, it seemed. Imitating his companion’s earlier actions, the older guard stepped in front of Nightlight and spread his wings wide. “Unless you have authorization to depart castle grounds, I have orders to-”

With the sentry’s wings outstretched, he had to take a much wider radius in circumventing his new obstacle. “My orders outrank yours… sergeant, was it?”

“Horseapples,” protested the guard. “My orders come from-”

“Mine come from the Princess.”

In his years at Canterlot Castle, Sergeant Coolus had only ever heard four ponies make such a declaration out loud. Three had been chefs with ‘emergency orders for provisions’, and the other was a schizophrenic who’d begun hearing voices. This steward didn’t seem the most stable of ponies, but considering that the last pony to stop a servant making a cake run for the princess had been busted down to private, the sergeant decided that this decision was way above his paygrade. “Fine. Get going, but I’ll be passing your name up.” The guard took off and returned to his post.

Nightlight remained silent, not finding the strength to smile to himself. Continuing down towards the city itself, he was only focused on one thing: where to find his family.

‘PRANCER’S’ declared the large glowing sign, sitting outside of a large building on the edge of the river. Below it was the subtext, ‘Coltribbean Bar and Grill,’ with the image of a palm tree turning into an anchor nearby. The boom of club music could be heard from within, and the sound of a pony throwing up could be heard from without, complete with the filly begging her friend to hold her mane back between periods of vomiting. A hooffull of inebriated ponies were leisurely filing out, deciding they’d reached their limits for the evening, while a long queue of mostly-sober ponies waited for their turns in.

This was the place.

Ignoring the line and the angry cries from the ponies waiting within, Nightlight pushed around them and plodded up to one of the scowling ponies at the door. “Hey dad, what’s up?”

Twilight Sky shrugged his drab shoulders nonchalantly as he examined another mare’s license. “Same old, same old. You can go in, miss,” he told the magenta pony next in line, giving back her ID. “What’s up with you? Shouldn’t you be at the castle or something?”

Nightlight shrugged his shoulders right back. “I think I got fired. Can you take a break? I need somepony to talk to.”

“Somepony to talk to, huh?” He snorted unsympathetically, actually looking away from the next pony in line to examine his son. “You look more like you need a stiff drink, if you ask me. Well, from the looks of this line, I’m going to be here until halfway until morning, but Red’s inside somewhere. Pull her off whatever stallion she’s grinding on if you need to talk to somepony.” He gave a flick of his azure mane, signaling Nightlight to go inside before turning back to the colt showing him another ID. “Sorry kid, this is obviously fake – go back home.”

“Hey, you didn’t even check his ID!” the offender shouted as Nightlight stepped past the building’s threshold and into the cacophony of its interior. The colt’s protests were immediately drowned out by the thumping bass, and his father’s response was similarly muted by the dull roar of the crowd. The left side of the building was a large dance floor, separated from a calmer, tavern/bar area on the right side. A bespectacled unicorn disc jockeyed from the far corner, yelling at the dance floor while the sea of ponies within it undulated in time with the music. It was a club, plain and simple.

Nightlight thought he could make out his sister’s fiery mane in the middle of the throng, more of her weight on the pony she was with than her own hooves, but he didn’t have the desire to fight his way through the crowd, let alone demand her time. ‘Too much work.’ Sufficiently disheartened, he pressed his way to the bar and ordered, “Something strong, on Ice’s tab.” Walking away with a highball glass of whiskey (with a splash of cola for color) in his telekinetic grasp and wondering why his dad still went by his bachelor name at work, Nightlight sat down at one of the empty tables in the pub/bar side of the building.

It didn’t stay that way for long. Balancing an entire tray of drinks on her back, the magenta earth pony that had come in before him stepped up and slid her tray onto the table. “Hi, you’re *hic* cute. Iss thishpot taken?”

‘Dearest goddess, she came in sixty seconds ago and she’s already wasted.’ The spot was free, but, “Yes. It’s taken. Sorry.”

“Really? You don’t… ssound that sorry. I think it’s *hic* fine. Prolly not taken.” Without ado, she slid into the bench across from him, struggling slightly to find a comfortable spot. “I’m Berry, by the, the way. What’sh your name, an’ why do ya’ look so unhappy?”

Berry threw back a glass of some brightly colored liqueur in the time it took Nightlight to think of an appropriate response. “Excuse me?”

“Your name,” she repeated, putting her hooves around another tall glass and tipping it back to join her previous drink. “You tha’ drunk already, tha’ you don’t know what I’m askin’?”

The dark servant snorted in amusement. “You’re sloshed,” he said, and took a sip of his drink, as if to make a point. He had to fight himself to not make a face – Wild Pegasus was strong stuff.

The older earth pony snickered at his reaction to the alcohol. “I may be shloshed, But I toldja my name, didn’t I? Tha’ means you canna least do the same.” She grabbed a lowball glass of amber liquid off her tray and swallowed the whole thing effortlessly while Nightlight watched. It looked suspiciously like the same whiskey he was drinking. “Delishish…” she muttered.

It was a victory on her side. “Fine. The name’s Nightlight,” he admitted, taking a slow sip from his own drink. “I… I’m a servant up at the castle.” It might have been a question more than a statement – he didn’t really know if he still had his job. ‘Hay, even if I did before I left, getting drunk on duty’s going to put an end to that. Maybe I’ll just move back home with Red and the parents.’ It wasn’t an ideal situation, but it was infinitely better than working for somepony like Her.

The look on Nightlight’s face seemed to catch Berry’s attention. She put down her (‘was that her fourth or fifth?’) drink and asked, “Really? I’ll be’ that’sh why you’re lookin’ so down. What’sh goin’ on? I hear sum, some, somethin’s going on up there tonight. That why you’re so bothered?”

Acknowledging to himself that he didn’t care about the mare’s probing enough to move, he slumped onto the table. “Is it that obvious?”

If the earth pony gave any sort of special reaction to the question, Nightlight couldn’t see it with his face down. “Nah,” she droned, “I’m jus’ smarter than yer average pony when I’m buzzed. It’sh why I try ta, ta stay drunk. Now, why’re ya’ so upset? Tell ole’ Berry Punch what’sh wrong.”

‘Well… I did say I needed somepony to talk to.’ “I think I just got fired...”

“Tha… that’s not so bad. I’ve been fired a couple times before. You jus’ gotta-”

“…by a goddess.”

The hazy, half-drunk smile on the mare’s face widened in curiosity. “Really? What for?” She pulled another beverage from her selection, this one crystal-clear, and began trying to guess what his offense was. “You were late? Or no, tha’s boring. She was tryin’ ta d-do stuff t’ya?” Berry’s smile became rather coarse at this suggestion, and she started trying to scoot around the table closer to her new drinking partner. “I could see why she…” Much to Nightlight’s relief, that train of thought was overcome by another. “Ooh! Or maybe, maybe ya tolder tha’ she’sha tire’s aunt? I mean tyrant.” As soon as she realized what she’d just pronounced, her grin immediately faded. “Not tha’ she ish, I mean, but it’d be funny if’n ya tolder that.” A more socially acceptable way of putting her hoof in her mouth, the magenta pony grabbed the closest drink on her tray and poured it into her mouth instead.

He probably wasn’t supposed to tell other ponies about it, but… ‘Whatever.’ It wasn’t as if all of Equestria wasn’t about to find out anyways. ‘Besides, it’s not as if things can get that much worse for you, and you can’t really expect her to believe you, right?’ But the real kicker was that he caring was still pretty high ranked amongst the things he wasn’t doing. “Wrong princess,” he mumbled, taking another sip from his glass of Wild Pegasus.

Her mouth full, the earth pony managed to make a noise that sounded vaguely questioning. She looked over her cocktail glass and raised an eyebrow. “Hmmph?”

“Princess Luna. Celestia’s sister. The moon was late tonight because of me.”

She stopped drinking halfway through her beverage. “Really?”

“Really.”

Berry Punch put her Manehattan cocktail down only partially consumed. “I… Wow. Buck. I need something stronger.” Apparently every beverage that remained on her (mostly empty) tray of drinks was similarly insufficient, because she rose and started ambling towards the bar, pushing her way through the crowd in a daze that couldn’t be entirely attributed to the alcohol.

“Wait, you believe me? Just like that?” he demanded, watching her mulberry tail sidle through the herd of ponies congregating near the bar. There was no answer though, and Nightlight was left to finish his own drink in relative solitude.

‘Relative’ became the operable word when a ruddy mare with an cutie mark of a old-fashioned red lantern just so happened to slide in the seat Berry had until recently occupied. “Are all of these yours?” she asked brusquely, “Wow, dad was right, you do look bad. You okay?” Without asking, his older sister grabbed one of the few drinks remaining on the tray and took a sip, only to jump back an inch. “Hmm… top shelf,” she muttered, swirling the glass dexterously in a dainty hoof. “So anyways, what’s wrong?”

He was about to point out that the drinks weren’t actually his, but… it looked like a couple drinks were just a drop in the bucket to Berry, and she didn’t seem to be coming back anytime soon. Nightlight grabbed one to replace his recently emptied glass and took a sip before answering. The rum really was top shelf stuff, but it didn’t improve his mood much. “Heya Red. I just had the worst day of my life,” he bemoaned quietly, “I, literally, did not do anything right.”

She dismissed him with a loud ‘tsk’ and a wave of her hoof. “You got down here and that’s something you did right, isn’t it?” She laughed contemptuously, but it was obviously insincere. “But no, really, how bad is it? I mean, this is you we’re talking about – it can’t be that bad. Can it?”

Hopefully his snort was interpreted as disdain instead of a hiccup. “It might have involved an alicorn screaming at me at the top of her lungs.” He gave an elongated sigh before taking a long draught of his beverage, savoring the smoothness as he swallowed. “At least, I think it was the top of her lungs, considering I’ve never heard a louder sound in my life. Something about being… what was it? Embarrassing, bungling, and inept. I don’t really remember all of it.” Nightlight looked down to find the rum was gone. ‘Well that won’t do.’ He reached a tendril of magic out to another of Berry’s drinks. “You know, just that Equestria deserves better than me.” He started chugging.

“W-wow.” Redlight just stared at him for a couple seconds before managing any sort of reply. “I… wow. The princess said that?”

Nightlight just took another sip of his newest drink, only to find it already empty. ‘Dang, but these go quickly, don’t they?’ He reached for the last beverage on the tray, a glass of Tiara Royal whiskey. “Yeah, she did.”

“Well… you know mom’ll be her usual self about it, but at least you know dad’ll let you move back home if you have to. I mean, you are kind of his favorite.”

“Hmm?” The unhappy unicorn set his drink back down untouched. “Arc’s his favorite, last I checked – she’s the only one doing real work, if you ask him.”

Red shot her brother a glance indicating a strong desire to clop him upside the head. “She’ll always be his little filly, but you’re his only son, Nighty. Add to that the fact that you’re the only one that inherited his dark coat and the stars in his cutie mark… hay, if you got imprisoned, he’d do whatever it took to post your bail.” She reached out to the tray of drinks only to find it empty. “And he lets you drink on his tab, too," she muttered with a sulk. "I only get that on my birthday."

Nightlight couldn’t feel much sympathy for her petulant tone. “That’s because mom and dad pay for everything else you do. Besides, all these,” he waved a hoof at the assortment of empty glasses covering the table, “weren’t on his tab. Some drunk earth pony brought most of them, and left them here a couple minutes ago. She said she needed something stronger, what with the news.”

Redlight’s ears perked up when her brother mentioned Berry’s gender and broke into a teasing smirk. “Oh? ‘She’ you say? Finally found a marefriend, have you?”

If he hadn’t been as dispirited as he was tonight, Nightlight might have adamantly denied the suggestion. As things were, he just sighed. “No. She just trotted up and started talking at me. And she’s probably twice my age, too,” he commented, draining the last of his beverage.

“Nothin’ wrong with that. At least it’s not stallions twice your age coming on to you, right?” she chuckled. “That’s like, twice as bad."

Uncomfortable memories aside, she was mostly right. “Thrice, actually.”

She laughed loudly, having witnessed a few of those incidents. “Well, it could always be worse. What’d she look like anyways?”

“Pink coat, darker mane. Cutie mark’s grapes and a strawberry, I think.” As if summoned, Berry Punch arrived and slid into the bench besides his sister and dropped a tray with three tall glasses of clear liquid onto the table. “Kind of like that.”

Redlight jumped a couple inches when the drunk pony appeared in the seat beside her, only to immediately recognize their newest companion. “Berry, don’t surprise me like that!” She seemed unable to keep a stern look on her face however, and instead reached for one of the mare’s glasses uninvited. Nopony stopped her. “And what are you doing in town? Don’t you still live in Ponyville?”

By all appearances, the pink mare ignored the questions directed to her, but that was probably on account of some new level of drunkenness she’d reached. Her eyes were mostly unfocused and she had trouble holding herself up, but the words coming out of her mouth were still mostly coherent. “I’m… back, an’ I broughtcha a drink too,” she slurred as she picked one of the glasses from her tray and passed it across the table with unexpected dexterity. “Now… ish it… t-true? Lunash back?” She turned to the side, as if she’d only just noticed the crimson mare besides her – maybe she had. “Oh, heya Red. Wassup. You doin’ much too… toon… tonigh?”

Redlight didn’t answer the question, caught up on the one addressed to her younger brother. “Luna? The hay?” A perplexed expression was evident on her face as she turned across the table, “Night, what’s she mean?”

He took a sniff of the drink Berry had brought and decided that it wasn’t worth the risk. Judging from the way his sister’s eyes bugged when she took a sip, it was the right choice. He put the glass down with a sigh. “Yeah, Luna’s back,” he explained matter-of-factly to both mares present. “I am… no, strike that. I was,” he emphasized, “her hoofservant or something.She had her official return tonight, I think. There was a dinner and everything with loads of nobles there. It’ll probably be in the papers tomorrow morning,” he conceded. “You remember what I said about a princess chewing me out? I never said it was Celestia.”

Berry nodded her head unreservedly, only to stop short with a nauseous look. Red, however was a bit more verbose and much more voluminous. “Wait, you mean that was Princess Luna, who said all that? What the hay? I mean, what does she know? Hasn’t she been on the moon for the last thousand years? For the sake of-”

Nightlight cut off his sister sharply as before she could become much louder. “Yeah, well honestly? It’s hard to argue with her when the moon rose late because of me.” That silenced Red immediately, evoking open-mouthed stares from the mares sitting across from him. Berry Punch’s eyes may have been unfocused, but the effect was much the same. Nightlight continued, “So yeah, she’s got a pretty good point. I probably am the worst servant in the history of Equestria,” he concluded, and took a gulp of his drink for dramatic emphasis.

“Show… what’sh the problem?” Berry inquired, ignoring the fit of coughing the young colt had sunk into. “How many ponies you shink know, note, noticed the moon was late tonight? I didn’t. Prolly, that is.” She shrugged her shoulders lazily and took a matching swig of her own beverage without fuss. “Imeanreally, it’sh not like you coulda been the bery first pony to buck shomefin’ like this up, yeah?” With unexpected agility and an even more unexpected elegance, the pink mare hopped onto her seat, reared up on her hind legs and began declaring boldly to the establishment: “What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun! Is there anything of which one can say, ‘Look! This is something new’? It was here already, long ago; it was here before our time. Nopony remembers the former generations, and even those yet to come will not be remembered by-”

Vainly, Nightlight tried to argue, speaking over the rant. “No. It doesn’t matter if anypony noticed whether or not I failed; the fact remains that I failed a princess,” he voiced. “I shouldn’t be serving her. I’m not good enough! I didn’t just fail Her, I failed Equestria!”

The mulberry mare just spoke on. “I have seen something else under the sun! The race is not to the swift or the battle to the strong, nor does food come to the wise or wealth to the brilliant or favor to the learned; but time and chance happen to them all!”

Perhaps motivated by the numerous looks the trio was receiving from their fellow customers, an especially grumpy earth pony with a grey coat and a spiky ice-colored mane intruded upon the soliloquy. “Miss, if you don’t sit down and shut up, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” growled the bouncer. “And if that doesn’t work, I’ll be pleased to drag you out myself.” Berry continued her speech without pause, eliciting a dark grimace from the older earth pony. Nonetheless, he turned away from the pontificating pony and addressed the others present at the table with a nod. “Night, Red. You really should keep better grips on your friends.”

The young stallion failed to hear his father’s admonishment, too distracted as he was by his drunk associate’s discourse as she continued to her climax. “Even as foals walk along the road, they lack sense, and show everypony how stupid they are. If a ruler’s anger rises against you, do not leave your post! Calmness can lay great offenses to rest!”

Red, however, acknowledged her father’s command with an airy laugh. “Berry,” she called, whistling sharply. “If you don’t quit it, we’re going to get kicked out. Oh, and say hello to our dad.”

The alcoholic pony stopped immediately, plopping down onto the bench with little ado. As suddenly as it had begun, the monologue ended, and she returned to her usual slurring mode of speech as if everything was normal. “Heya Red’sh Dad. Nishe ta meethca. Whasshup?”

“Tch.” Twilight Sky shook his head dismissively and ignored the question completely. Instead of deigning to answer, he locked his frosty blue eyes on his son, asking in a voice as disquieting as his gaze, “You in trouble, Night?”

‘Clop me...’ Nightlight put his hovering drink back on the table heavily, drawing a concerned look from the mares sitting with him. His dad’s stoic expression remained unchanged. “Probably. Why?”

“There’s a couple guards and some palace official outside checking the bars for a colt – something to do with a missing servant or somesuch. They gave me a description of him, and I told them I’d look inside.” The bouncer shifted his gaze around the room, as if worried somepony might bother to listen in. “You know anything about this, or should I tell them to be on their way?”

‘...With the moon.’ Reservedly, he slid out of the booth and onto his hooves with a stagger. “Yeah, that’s me. Tell them I’ll be out in a couple minutes, thanks.” His dad marched back towards the doors, cutting a path through the drunk herd without effort, and he turned to his sister. “Hey Red, couldja get me a glass of water or something? I need to sober up a bit.”

“I’ll do you one better!” she called with a smirk, already dashing into the crowd.

She did, in fact, do him one better. As it turned out, Redlight was ‘acquainted’ with a unicorn in medical school who just so happened to be on the dance floor, and just so happened to ‘owe her a favor’. Knowing his sister, the specifics weren’t something he would be pleased about. However, what he was pleased about was a very convenient piece of magic the stallion had picked up during his academic career: a sobriety spell.

His tongue coated with the strangely agreeable taste of strong coffee and raw egg yolk, Nightlight marched out of Prancer’s to find his father chatting unpleasantly with a pair of royal guards; the other bouncers were nowhere to be seen. “I’m tellin’ you, I can’t let you in unless you’re going to pay the cover. It’s ten bits, each.” In some detached part of his head, the colt laughed silently at the ruse – Prancer’s was popular because there was no cover. As if to add insult to injury, he added, “And I’ll have to see some ID.”

The smaller of the guards (‘Is that the lance corporal from earlier tonight?’) flared his wings up intimidatingly. “You have to be of age to join the Corps! And besides, these things don’t have pockets! How do you expect us to carry around-“

The senior pegasus clopped his compatriot upside the helmet and turned to face the bouncer with a much calmer, and therefore more threatening tone. “Listen, sir. If the pony we’re looking for is in there, you need to let us in, or you’ll be charged with obstruction and aiding a fugitive citizen. Furthermore-”

As much as he wanted to see his father parry words with these two, it was probably going to get out of hoof soon – the guards were, after all, in the right. Technically. He popped his dark vision spell. “What if the pony you’re looking for wasn’t inside, and he was right here, instead?”

The grizzled Sergeant Coolus didn’t bat a wing when he turned to the voice, “Then I’d have to ask why we’re not already on our way.” He narrowed his eyes, as if trying to decide if this was actually the pony they were looking for. Eventually he reached a conclusion. “You going to come quietly?” he asked softly, eyeing Nightlight’s large horn.

“That nice bouncer convinced me that it would be the patriotic thing to do,” the young unicorn snarked blandly. “There’ll be no problems.”

Nightlight’s promise held true for the guards, at least, but Nightlight had problems of his own on the way, as that unicorn’s sobriety spell apparently effected both physical and mental sobriety. What feeling he’d gained over the last couple hours melted away with the last of the alcohol, and he found himself struck once again with a sort of numbness. ‘Of course, that could just be on account of where we’re going.’ He couldn’t imagine what Princess Luna would have in store for him upon his return. No combination of banishment, dungeons, or the sun seemed like they would cut it, so he eventually had no choice but to give up his contemplation and enjoy the scenery.

The trek from the bar scene, out of the city proper, and towards Canterlot Castle was actually rather nice, if somber. The surroundings were as scenic as ever, and the way the moon illuminated the countryside was especially impressive tonight. ‘And the guards have the good sense not to ruin it all by talking… although that may be policy more than etiquette.’ The low-hanging moon cast elongated shadows across the royal grounds, and the way the stars framed the castle in the distance was stunning. All in all, it was probably the most beautiful night Nightlight had ever witnessed – and it was probably to be his last. ‘I should’ve asked dad to tell the family I love them…’ It was too late now, he figured. ‘Too late for a lot of things, to be honest. Becoming a full steward, getting rich, marrying a cute filly, visiting Roam and Germaney…’ The list went on and on as they continued the quiet march up to the castle. Soon they were at the entrance to the castle grounds. ‘…never ran a mareathon, or wrote that book. I’d have liked to see Equestrian Symphony Orchestra in concert at least once, and-’

A gruff voice broke him from his reverie; Lance Corporal Galea was speaking. “We found him at a bar downtown just now; he matches your description and he looks similar to a servant spotted leaving earlier this evening – is this the pony you’re lookin’ for, ma’am?”

It took Nightlight a couple moments to actually realize that the soldier’s question wasn’t addressed to him. “Yes, that’s him,” murmured Star Quill. Her voice was as detached as ever but her weary expression made it seem that she’d aged a decade in the last couple hours. Nightlight empathized. Rubbing a dark hoof against a temple, she mumbled, “I’ll take things from here, or something. Come on, uhh… Nightright.”

Around the castle, towards one of the servants’ entrances, and through the vacant hallways, Nightlight followed, almost as indifferent as when he’d followed Coolus and Galea out of the city. Unlike the guards, however, his current escort was remarkably talkative, another sign that this night was unusual. “I mean really,” she huffed at the unicorn following her, tackling a staircase used only by the servants, “to abandon your post? The shame you’ve wrought upon the Night Stewards is incredible. Do you have any idea how you’ve made us look? How you’ve made me look? To Princess Luna? She… why, she…” the older unicorn dropped several decibels, and the look on her face became pained. “Incompetent… why, to suggest that I’m incompetent… I, the Head Night Steward? Why, how could an incompetent pony possibly come to this position? I… Of course I can manage my subordinates. It’s not my fault if they run away from their duties. It’s not my fault if they don’t know how to get around the castle. How should I have known the moon-raising was to be in the Tall Tower? Who’s ever heard of an Astral Dais? Why is it my fault if the maids haven’t polished her tiara enough, or her cook hasn’t prepared her meal satisfactorily? It’s not my fault, it’s theirs.”

The younger steward mostly ignored his superior’s mutterings as they began to degenerate into self-absorbed monologue. Star Quill may have been a good logistician, and knew how to make things run smoothly on a day-to-day basis, but she didn’t know how to deal with the unexpected. Nor, in fact, did she know how to deal with other ponies. According to her policy, if things deviated from the expected, it was because they were defective. She believed that unpredictable things were inherently flawed, and the fact remained that ponies were very rarely predictable.

‘I suppose I, therefore, am a problem, no?’ Star Quill had never expected him to make off like he had. ‘But then…’ Nightlight was struck by an interesting thought. ‘Did anypony expect Princess Luna to be like this?’ Judging from what he’d been informed of from Slopes and Quill before he woke the Princess (it felt like days ago, but it was just tonight), Luna had caught everypony by surprise. ‘So then what does she think about the Princess?’

“Conceited… unjust… belligerent… excessive… callous… noisy…” Assuming he didn’t misinterpret the context, nothing good, it seemed. “And you,” she bemoaned, abruptly addressing the assistant steward. “You just made things worse!” Her horn lit up, and the dark mare threw open the nearest pair of doors with an enormous crash. She continued as she led them in, either disregarding or oblivious to the bothered looks she was earning from the other servants. “Running away like that! Do you know how bad you’ve made us look!? On the first night of Her return, you disgrace the name of my Night Stewards! What the hay could possess you to gallop downtown? The Princess has practically been looking for you since moonrise! The things she’s had to say about-”

Two corridors and one back passage into the tirade later, Nightlight realized where Star Quill was leading him. Well, he might not have understood the actual location, but he understood the actual purpose. They’d passed by three staircases since he’d entered the castle, which meant that their destination was definitely on this floor. Adding to that the fact that there were no administrative offices of any sort on the main floor, and it could only mean one thing:

‘The Princess.’

“And further more-”

‘Oh Goddess. es. Goddesses.’ The realization was enough to make Nightlight entirely shut out the rant coming from the mare in front of him. ‘Princess Luna.’ Rationally, he knew he’d have to come face to face with the Princess of the Night after absconding the way he did. Logically, he knew he’d have to face the consequences of his actions – one always had to do so. It didn’t make coming to grips with it much easier.

“In fact, I have half a mind to-”

Star Quill didn’t make things easier either, but she was orders of magnitude below what awaited him. Orders of magnitude below Princess Luna. Orders of magnitude below the double doors staring the colt down at the moment. The same double doors that swung open in response to Star Quill’s magic. The doors of the Royal Library.

They entered.

Rows and rows of books extended further than the eye (even aided by magic, as Nightlight’s was) could see, and in the very center of it all, sat an indignant alicorn, glowering at an enormous hardbound manuscript. Stacks of similar books flanked the tome on either side, framing the scowling princess’ face and extending halfway to the ceiling. If Nightlight could see more than the reading princess, he might’ve noticed the sidelong glances the Royal Librarians were casting, as if afraid the spindly table might collapse under the weight of the numerous tomes Luna had collected.

It was this obliviousness that caused Nightlight to jump when a familiar-looking pegasus with a folded paper star for a cutie mark stepped out of his peripherals and addressed the pair of stewards with a whisper. “Th-th-the Princess specifically told us, I mean me, that is, to let nopony interrupt her unless it was r-really im-important,” Origami stuttered with fearful eyes. “I’m sorry, b-but I’m going to h-have to ask you t-t-to t-t-turn around.” The fearful way she trembled was almost, but not quite, enough to distract Nightlight from his own fate. While she’d obviously experienced a taste of the royal Canterlot voice, it was hard to imagine that anypony had received as much as he had. ‘After all, she didn’t have to get hauled back by guards, right?’

Star Quill rolled her eyes and kept walking. “It is important.”

The filly appeared uncertain. “But she’ll get mad at me if it’s not important…”

Such a reply was unacceptable to the Head Night Steward; she narrowed her brow dangerously and snapped, “I don’t care. She told me to approach her immediately when I found this pony. Move now.”

“But she-” The older mare’s horn lit up and the younger filly slid to the side with Quill’s telekinesis. A spluttering but unobtrusive “aah” escaped her lips as she was pushed away. To the end, it seemed, Origami was always a librarian.

Nightlight started walking once more, and so there were only ten yards between Nightlight and his fate.

Princess Luna’s mane floated ominously in a nonexistent breeze.

Eight yards.

She cocked her head curiously at her book. ‘Maybe she’ll be merciful?’

Seven yards.

A tendril of magic stretched from her horn. She turned a page, and her frown set itself even deeper upon her face. ‘So much for that.’

Five yards.

The princess’ eyes danced across the page, turning harder and harder until they were practically shooting daggers at the manuscript. ‘Horseapples.’

Four yards.

Without warning, Luna’s visage shifted from anger to actual fury, and the tome launched itself across the room. The book nearly unbound when it struck the far wall and landed in a heap. ‘Goodnight, cruel world.’

Two yards.

Luna pulled a fresh book from one of the nearby stacks and opened it recklessly, diving into the text with violent abandon. ‘And flights of pegasi sing me to my rest.’

One yard.

Star Quill came to a halt, watching their Princess flip through pages. Her knees locked in place, the self-assured voice that had just opposed Origami lost. The two stewards remained silent for some time, petrified by the prospect of what was before them. ‘Only…’

One yard.

He was only one yard from… what? ‘Death? Dismemberment? Banishment? The moon? The sun? The dungeon? Dismissal?’

And then one of them made a noise. From somewhere, one of the stewards found enough noise to draw Princess Luna’s attention, but not enough to speak. Nightlight didn't think it was him, but he wasn’t sure - the Head Night Steward looked almost as frightened as Nightlight felt, after all. The Moon Goddess looked up from her tome, glaring coldly at the ponies before her. “Yes?” she demanded in a voice that was, for her, hushed. “What brings you to interrupt my study?”

Reflexively, Nightlight dropped to a deep bow, kowtowing forwards so that his long mane shielded his eyes. ‘Mercy, mercy, mercy…’

His superior remained slightly more composed, even if she, too, avoided eye contact. “Your Highness, I’ve returned your hoofservant, as ordered.” A magical sheath enveloped Nightlight, and he felt himself forced forwards, filling the place between the princess and Star Quill. “He’d fled into the city; and the guardsponies had difficulty finding him.”

She raised her brow, opening a large eye in what might have been curiosity. “Oh? Is this true, hoofservant?” Of course, it might have been menace.

Nightlight couldn’t find the strength to speak. A nod had to suffice. Unfortunately, nodding caused his mane to shake aside just slightly, allowing the tiniest bit of eye contact.

Her voice was level; her visage was calm; her eyes cut into Nightlight’s soul. “How commendable,” came the cold words.

The dark colt’s brain could only process one word.

The same word murmured from the mare behind him. “What.”

She turned away from the ponies occupying her attention, focusing once more upon her books. “While your enthusiasm in following orders is praiseworthy, never again leave the castle when I order you to vacate my presence. I was greatly inconvenienced by it. Is this understood?”

Unable to comprehend what the princess meant, unable to form complete thoughts, all he could do was agree. “Y-y-yes your Highness.”

“Very well. See to it that this does not reoccur. Now fetch me my midnight meal.”

Correction: all he could do was agree and obey. “Y-y-yes your Highness.”

So Very Very Tired

The Moon is a Harsh Mistress
by NavyPony

Chapter Four:
So Very Very Tired

Deep in the servants’ quarters of the west wing, Nightlight collapsed wearily in his bed. It was thirteen minutes after sunrise, although it might’ve been better to call it fourteen minutes after moonset, considering his station. Whatever the case, it was much too early for him to be going to sleep. He had cleaning, and paperwork, and reports, and turnover, and had to talk to Snowy Slopes about everything, and… ‘And I’ve never felt so tired in my entire life.’

However in light of that last fact, nothing else could possibly matter. Sure, some of the evening had been physically taxing, but he hadn’t been up for any longer than usual; it was something about the incredible stress that had left him feeling as drained as he was. After everything he’d experienced over the course of the night, his first night as the Lunar Hoofservant, he couldn’t bring himself to heed the consequences of relieving his tiredness. ‘Hay, I can’t even remember half the night.’ Ignoring every rational thought going through his head, the young steward slid into his little bed, closed his eyes, and began to painfully relive everything he’d just been through…

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

Princess Luna’s midnight meal, the garden cress linguine and the lilac-garnished salad that had been painstakingly and (in Nightlight’s humble opinion) beautifully prepared, turned out to be entirely unacceptable, and Her Highness made it very clear that this was entirely the fault of a certain hoofservant. For one, the chefs had been overly generous with alfalfa in the salad, she'd declared, and the parsley was lacking; furthermore, she was never to be served anything with water chestnuts again, excepting official functions. None of these things were the chief problem. No, the issue arose when she stabbed a fork into the pasta, nose still buried in the deceptively-named ‘A Brief History of Equestria’. Her noodles were overcooked, it seemed, and how dare anypony, especially her hoofservant, even consider presenting Her with a meal like that.

Upon returning to the kitchens, Nightlight found that it was not Harvest Moon, Luna’s ‘official’ chef, but instead the actual Head Chef, Celestia's chef, that had prepared the meal. Suffice it to say, Chef Ala Mode wasn’t pleased to be up at this time of night, and was even less pleased to have a meal sent back. He took it as a personal insult.

“They were not overdone!” declared the anchovy-green earth pony with a snooty tone. “Those noodles were cooked to perfection, and if you think otherwise, monsieur, you do not understand fine dining!”

“I didn’t say they were overdone!” the young steward shouted back, having tried for the last five minutes to get his point across. “I said Her Highness prefers firmer noodles! What’s the big problem?!” He was causing a scene, but he was more concerned with haste than appearances; Luna had made it inordinately clear that she expected a replacement meal immediately. “Can’t you just boil another pot already!?”

Ala Mode clopped a hoof on the tile floor with a huff. “You are asking for me to serve royalty undercooked food, and that’s something I cannot do! This is an issue I will not compromise upon, you conceited colt!”

“What? I’m conceited?” Nightlight could barely contain his frustration at the accusation. After all, he was only doing what the princess had ordered him to do, right? ‘Besides the fact that the noodles actually were okay.’ Nonetheless, Princess Luna considered her meal unsatisfactory. ‘What the hay does he not understand? If she doesn’t get another plate soon…’ Groaning in aggravation, he had to fight not to strike his head against the ground. “Ugh! Why can’t you just fix some more linguini?! I can see some more right there!”

“Of course I can fix more noodles.”

“Then do it already! The princess is waiting!”

“But I cannot cook them any differently.”

“What?! Why not?!”

The dull green stallion snorted haughtily. “Because I will not compromise my standards for anything. It would be an affront to the culinary art.”

“Aaagh!!”

After some twenty minutes of arguing circles, Nightlight finally convinced the smug chef to prepare more noodles, and to cook them for less time. A quick application of sauce, a frantic sprint through the castle, and one argument with the royal librarians later, Nightlight presented Her Highness with a fresh plate of garden cress linguini. Halfway hidden behind her fortress of tomes, the Lunar Goddess took only one look at him and his offering before erupting in strangely quiet anger.

It seemed that these noodles were just as overcooked as the previous plate. Furthermore, even if he’d brought a satisfactory meal (a feat which she declared implausible at best), the delay was entirely unsatisfactory. Why hadn’t he checked the firmness of the noodles? If it took him so long to convince the chefs to prepare more food, why hadn’t he gotten somepony else to do the job? Was there nopony else in the entire castle who could cook? Was Nightlight incapable of seeing Her orders fulfilled? Ultimately, he had but one job, and he was failing at it.

Nightlight galloped back to the kitchens even faster than he’d left them, fighting to hold back tears. He burst through the doors, nearly tackled the head chef, and pushed the plate of (perfectly done) noodles directly at the chef who’d made them. This time, he did not mince words. “These are still not good enough!”

The head chef harrumphed. “They are… more al dente than the last batch.”

“No!” Nightlight shouted. “They are exactly the same!”

Ala Mode shut his eyes and turned his nose up haughtily as he spoke. “These are as firm as I am willing to make them! If you do not enjoy my noodles, you should consider not eating them!”

“Don’t you see?!” Nightlight yelled, his eyes welling up at the injustice of the whole situation. “I don’t care about your bucking noodles! They’re not for me, they’re for the Princess!”

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

“Night! Wake up!” ‘Huh?’ “Nightlight! For Discord’s sake, wake up already!” somepony hoofed him upside the head, hard.

“Uggh, Imawake, Imawake. What was that for?” More importantly, why did he feel like manure? He cracked open an eye to find an azure-coated pegasus staring at him angrily. “What time is it?”

Noon Nap fluttered haughtily above his subordinate’s bed, forehooves crossed in disapproval. “It’s eight-ten! Why the hay didn’t you come to turnover this morning? Or do any of your regular duties? I’ve been looking for you all morning.”

“Horseapples…” he groused, rolling over and trying to fall back asleep. “You, of all ponies, would expect a missing servant to be sleeping when they should be working; this is the first place you checked. And why do I feel even worse than I did earlier?”

The Secondary Night Steward ‘tsked’ at his charge. “Sleep inertia. And don’t take that tone with me, colt. You might be about to get sacked, but I’m still your boss.” A self-satisfied look appeared on the pegasus’ face - he had, after all, predicted something about this, hadn’t he? “Make yourself presentable and report to our office in fifteen minutes.” He lifted from the ground lazily and began winging out of Nightlight’s quarters. “And don’t even think about going back to sleep; if you’re not there in fifteen I’ll call the guard to escort you,” he called over his shoulder, beginning to chuckle unpleasantly. “Speaking of which, I hear you had a run in with them earlier tonight…”

The groggy unicorn forced himself to roll out of his bed. “Get out, already, Noon. I’ll be there.” Noon Nap kicked the door shut with a final laugh, leaving Nightlight alone in his room once more. ‘Did I really fall asleep?’ Looking up at the clock on his wall, the answer was an obvious yes. 0814.‘Clop me.’

Fifteen minutes turned into ten when you factored in travel time and arriving two minutes early (old servants’ adage: ‘early is on time; on time is late’), and ten minutes wasn’t enough time to shower and dry. In fact, it was hardly enough time to brush the snarls from his mane, but that was something he couldn’t really forgo. Looking in a mirror, it was obvious that when Noon Nap had told him to become presentable, he'd been referring to the sorry state of his hair. ‘And the crunchy, bloodshot eyes,’ he decided. ‘Sleep inertia? Really?’ Perhaps the sleep inertia was responsible for his complete hatred of everything in existence…

It was not shaping up to be a good day.

Looking only mildly better than he had upon waking, Nightlight stepped into the Night Stewards’ Office. It was supposed to be the central office from which the night stewards worked, and if it were still nighttime, an on-duty steward would’ve been posted.

Not that any of these facts made the room any less of a closet. The cramped room could barely contain the bookshelves and filing cabinets stuffed within, let alone the desk and pair of chairs in the very middle. It turned having more than one pony in the room at any time into a thoroughly cramped affair.

Both strangely and fortunately, however, this last part turned into a nonissue, as there was nopony else present. Squeezing his way through the cramped space, Nightlight made his way to one of the old chairs situated in the middle of the room and closed his eyes to await Noon Nap’s arrival…

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

By some crazy, contrived logic, the young steward was actually able to convince Ala Mode to fix another serving of linguini for the princess. These noodles Nightlight personally tested, and while they were certainly less cooked than he preferred, he decided it was better to err on the side of caution. After all, the previous batches were perfectly good, he’d thought. After thanking the irate Head Chef, he bolted out of the kitchens once more, intent on making it to the library as quickly as possible.

A new plate of pasta clutched in the yellow aura of his telekinesis, he made his way through a pair of angry bookkeepers (and one very meek one), towards the middle of the library, and around the stacks of books the princess was hidden behind. Then he circled it again. Then once more. Then… ‘Buck.’

“Your Highness?” he called tentatively, hoping against hope that she’d merely moved to get another book from the shelves. ‘Because that’s not what her royal librarian is for, is it?’ He tried once more, a little bit louder. “Princess Luna?”

“Shh!” A wrinkled old mare with her mane tied up in a bun shushed him from across the room. She was red with pent-up anger, and seemed thrilled to have found somepony to take it out on. Shooting eye-daggers at the source of the noise, she hissed at him forcefully, and asserted the obvious. “You are in a library.”

It was a library, true, but it was also an emergency. “Where’s the Princess?” he demanded of the elderly librarian, nearly spilling the pasta as he charged back to the library’s entrance. “Where did she go?”

The parchment-colored mare just stared him down, her bespectacled eyes and taciturn scowl making it clear that she didn’t intend to acquiesce. She restated the fact that they were in a library, and went on to explain that excessive noisemaking was discourteous to the other patrons, and if he might refrain from such behavior it would be more appropriate.

He took a quick glance about the chamber to confirm his suspicions before replying. “There are no other patrons! Just tell me where she is!” he demanded, trying his best to sound authoritative.

The other two librarians in the room (one a wiry stallion of middle age and the other Origami, the timid ‘Royal Librarian’) remained quietly observant while the senior librarian dismissed Nightlight. “Also, as we’ve said earlier, please refrain from bringing foodstuffs into the library – it is dangerous to the manuscripts. Thank you.” With a flick of her curly tail, the mare spun around and marched back to the main desk.

He directed his gaze towards the other two ponies in the room; the stallion grinned at him sardonically and Origami dropped her eyes to examine the floor. “Please! Just tell me where she went and I’ll leave already!” He got two angry glares and one flustered apology, but no real answer. “Augh!” he wailed, cantering out of the library. “First Ala Mode, now you!” If the librarians had any response he was too preoccupied to catch it.

Swearing to himself and magically clutching his plate of linguini, the young steward picked a direction and started running. ‘Where the bucking buck would she be?!’ he demanded of himself, looking for anypony that might have noticed an alicorn passing through. The hallways were conspicuously absent, however, and in retrospect it was only panicked optimism that let him hope he’d meet others in the hallways. ‘After all, the only ponies awake at night are doing their jobs or sneaking to some other pony’s room for – That’s it! Her room!’ Changing directions rapidly, he skid to a halt and galloped to the nearest staircase.

Nightlight soon learned that Princess Luna was not in her chambers. Then he discovered that she was not in the throne room. Nor was she in the judicial chambers. Nor the gardens, the dining hall, the library (he checked to see if she went back at some point), or any of the half dozen other places he considered. He even went so far as to ask the guards stationed outside Princess Celestia’s chambers to ask if they’d seen the younger of the Royal Pony Sisters. His inquiries were met with no more success than his other endeavors of the night, and, disheartened, he finally came to his last resort: the office of the Night Stewards. He really, really, really didn’t want to ask Noon Nap for help with this, but… for Luna’s sake, he had to give his best effort. ‘At least until you quit, right?’ Besides, losing a princess was probably no more of a career-killer than making the moon late, and he’d somehow retained his job despite the night’s earlier blunders.

Resigning himself to the prospect and having replaced his servant’s pride with a scrumptious (albeit extra firm) noodle dish, he trotted through the castle to the Western Wing. Less than two minutes later, his trip bore unexpected fruit when he noticed a painfully familiar voice reverberating within the castle. He inadvertently located the Lunar Princess en route. He’d have turned from his original path and followed the increasingly voluminous voice, if not for the fact that it was obviously coming from his destination; she was in the Night Stewards’ Office. ‘That is not a good sign – most ponies don’t even know about this room, and even fewer go in it.’ It was only after a couple unnerving moments of such thought that Nightlight realized something much more significant about this event – namely that Princess Luna was yelling, screaming at the top of her lungs, at somepony, and it wasn’t him. He hoped it was a good sign.

“Indeed? JUSTIFICATIONS? Thou dost profess a satisfactory vindication!?" Silence. Relative silence, at least. More likely, whatever pony was receiving the brunt of Luna’s attack was responding, and was simply speaking with a more normal noise level. “Is that so?” Judging by the tone of Luna’s voice, the reply was insufficient. “And art thou not accountable for everypony that performs beneath thee!? What with art thou charged?! Thou mayest not shunt culpability to those beneath thee, for it is the onus of a leader to see that her orders are carried out adequately. Should this be done insufficiently it is not only thy subordinates’ shortcoming, but thine even moreso! Wherefore does thy position exist, if not the responsibility of thy underlings?!” Short pause. “Well?! Answer us!” Even shorter pause. “ANSWER!”

Nightlight was struck with the urge to simply turn around and walk away. ‘But where?’ On any other occasion, this office would’ve been his go-to location when he needed to wait something out or do some avoiding… but that didn’t seem to be an option. Whatever the case, it wasn’t as if he could just knock on the door and tell the Princess he had another plate of pasta for her when she was doing her… thing. ‘But you can’t just leave when you have to bring her food. Besides you’ve been wrong about her behavior how many times tonight?’ A lot, to be honest. ‘For buck’s sake, she congratulated you on leaving the castle. Sorta.’ But the fact remained: interrupting a furiously screaming goddess wasn’t something the young stallion could bring himself to do. “It’s merely prudence,” he whispered to himself as he stared at the smallish doors to the stewards’ office. ‘No,’ whispered the little pony in his head,‘it’s cowardice. You’re afraid, and-’ The resounding CRACK that echoed from behind those doors made Nightlight’s heart skip a beat. ‘And I’m totally okay with that. Being a coward? I'm okay with being a coward. It could be worse.’ After all, he could be going through whatever that pony in the office was going through.

Namely, the Royal Canterlot Voice. Once more, the alicorn’s sonorous voice thundered through the castle. “UNACCEPTABLE! Thou might be more competent, but thy temperament is more wanting! Such declarations ought ne’er pass thy lips! Retire for the night, that thou might consider thy failings!” Moments later, the doors shot open in a flash of magic, and a sweating, trembling mare stepped into the hallway.

Star Quill glared at him with pure venom.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

Noon Nap’s voice filled the room. “Wake. Up,” he commanded coldly, striking a hoof against the chair his subordinate slumbered in. “Now.”

Nightlight snapped back awake, barely refraining from swearing audibly when he realized with whom he shared the tiny space. Ignoring the little voice in his head telling him to go back to sleep, he came to his hooves. “What… ugh. What time is it? And why am I awake?”

Noon opened his mouth to answer, only to be cut short by the biting voice of an old mare. There was no pony he wanted to hear less than this one. “Why do you think you’re awake?” A cool sweat washed over the young servant as he turned to face the source of that voice. ‘Oh buck me.’

Star Quill glared at him with pure venom. Again.

‘With the moon,’ Nightlight bemoaned silently, dropping his eyes to the floor while he searched for an answer that wouldn’t further upset the Head Night Steward. None came to mind, so he just stayed silent, staring at the ground between his hooves.

Too little, too late. “Hmmph. What a time, what a night! Do you realize how much damage you’ve caused in the last twenty-four hours? And now you're sleeping!” He continued examining the floor. “And she’s blaming me for your buck-ups. Do you think this is right?” Floor, floor, floor. “No, it isn’t. I’m taking the heat for your mistakes, and that’s a load of horseapples. Why couldn't you just get things right in the first place?” Nightlight closed his eyes as Star Quill droned on; at least she wasn’t loud. “Oh, that’s right - because you’re incompetent. I swear, I don’t know why we even hired you in the first place – you’re just a common pony. Do you even think before you act?” Her lectures just turned into a sort of dull buzzing. “No, no you don’t, and that’s why you’re so bad at this. Do you even realize how you’re making the Night Stewards look to the Princess?” Eh, he was too tired to care. “How badly you’re making me look?” Much too tired. “You embarrassed Her Highness during her-”

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

Nightlight never found out if that plate of the garden cress linguini was of satisfactory consistency, because there was a much bigger problem with the meal – it was cold. When he presented her with the dish, Princess Luna announced, with utmost clarity, that were she ever to be presented with a cold plate that should have been warm, she would not only find a new Royal Chef, but also a new Lunar Hoofservant. He should have, it seemed, known better than to accept an unsatisfactory meal. What could possibly possess him to think such a meal was acceptable for the lips of royalty, she asked.

When he finally managed to stutter out that it had been hot at first, and had only cooled while he’d been searching for the Princess, she went ballistic. It wasn't even partially the fault of the chefs, but entirely his fault – if he’d been faster, he’d never have missed her; if he’d been smarter he’d have realized where she’d gone; if he’d even thought to ask her librarian, they could’ve told him where she was.

Nightlight didn’t mention that he had asked the librarians. He simply apologized (like he had so many times already), bowed, and returned to the kitchens.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

“BUCKING HAY! ARE YOU ASLEEP?!” A brusque voice and an equally brusque hoof assaulted the young steward, violently rousing him from his unintentional dozing. Noon Nap proceeded to wrench the colt’s head up by his lengthy mane, forcing him to look Star Quill in the eye. “Can’t you do anything right?!”

Brutally tired, and with a terseness to match, Nightlight didn’t have his career much in mind when he answered. “No, or else I wouldn’t have taken this jo-” Then it struck him: ‘I never did take this job.’ The young steward began fuming, jaw clicking shut and as he coldly eyed the other two ponies with indignation.

Neither pony was pleased with his outburst. “What was that?”

Replaced by adrenaline, his fatigue evaporated; Nightlight’s mind began to race. ‘They didn’t give me a choice. Nopony gave me a choice. What the hay? They had to know I’d fail. They set me up for this. I’m their scapegoat. Nap, Quill, and Slopes especially, they’re all to blame. They knew whoever they’d assign would fail. So they chose me. Just threw me under a chariot. Just…’ He made a decision. “No.”

“What?”

“No,” he reaffirmed coolly. “Just no. I didn’t agree to take this job, you forced it on me. You said you gave me the chance to refuse, but I don’t think that’s actually true.” He stomped a frail hoof down; it wasn’t particularly loud, but it conveyed his message well enough. “Why should I have to do this? Why pick me for this job?! Why should I be the one to take the fall!?”

Unsurprisingly, Star Quill did not have an answer.

Noon Nap fared slightly better in the face of unexpected resistance. Upon the realization that the Head Night Steward was frozen he simply asserted, “Because it’s your job. You’re a Night Steward, and she’s the Princess of the Night.”

That wasn’t good enough for Nightlight, and he said so. “Clop you. You’re a Night Steward, too, aren’t you? You do it.”

Noon Nap gave a dramatic shrug, further exaggerated by the unfurling of his wings. “Improper coloring, unacceptable cutie mark, disrespectful to authority, lazy. No qualities good for a royal servant,” he declared with unsympathetic neutrality. Then his eyes narrowed bitterly. “So clop you.”

“What about her?” the dark steward demanded, thrusting a hoof towards the now-scowling mare. “Grey coat. Star in her cutie mark,” he stated succinctly.

The Head Night Steward finally responded to the ruckus forming around her. “My job,” she declared caustically, “is more important than yours. The Night Stewards are less harmed by losing you than by losing me.”

“Is that so?” he snapped crossly. “Then I quit. It’s no great loss.” With that, he strode out of the office and back towards his own quarters, ignoring the demands of his superiors. They could do whatever, for all he cared – he was going back to sleep.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

Nightlight was not able to convince Head Chef Ala Mode to prepare another serving of his linguini. In fact, nopony was able to convince Ala Mode of anything, because the stallion had finally retired for a tiny portion of the night. It was about three-thirty in the morning, and anypony still awake was either a part of the night staff or crazy. ‘Maybe both,’ the desperate servant bemoaned, considering his condition. “Why am I doing this again?”

He very nearly dropped his plate of noodles when somepony actually answered him. “Doing what? You mean talking to yourself?” queried a languid, feminine voice. “Stress, probably.”

After restarting his heart and catching his breath, Nightlight managed to locate the voice’s source – a midnight blue unicorn sitting awkwardly (‘Ponies are not meant to sit that way,’) on the nearest counter. She was playing absentmindedly with her orange tail, flicking it occasionally to reveal a crimson-colored full moon for a cutie mark and a very attractive flank. “Uhh, no I – well, yes, that too, but that’s not what I meant. I mean, why am I bothering to – wait.” He cut himself off abruptly, suddenly realizing that the unicorn in front of him looked very familiar.

The blue mare seemed unmindful of the sudden tonal shift in Nightlight’s voice. “Why you’re bothering to wait?” she intoned lackadaisically. “Well, patience is a virtue, isn’t it? That seems like a good reason-”

“No, wait. You’re Luna’s Royal Chef aren’t you?” That’s why she looked familiar, he was willing to bet money. She’d been the first pony Snowy Slopes had called into his office this evening. “Harvest Moon, wasn’t it?”

She yawned quietly. “That’s me. And you’re the pony that’s been fighting with Ala Mode all night - Luna’s fancy steward, right? What brings you here? Again, I mean. Because you were already here. Thrice. Or maybe more – I might’ve been asleep.”

A surge of jealousy shot through Nightlight – sleep was starting to sound really good right about now, being that the wakeful, pepperminty side effect of that sobriety spell was starting to wear. He, unfortunately, didn’t have the chance of getting away with sleeping on the job tonight, not when Princess Luna had tasked him however many times to bring her food. Speaking of which… “Maybe you can help me.”

She cocked her head to the side slightly, a vague, airy smile appearing on her face. “Help? Sure, I guess. What’s the problem?”

Nightlight almost did a little dance right there. Here, finally, was a pony who was willing to help him. “I need you to cook me a plate of pasta.”

She slid from her position and onto all four hooves without a sound. “Okay. What kind?” She nabbed a pot hanging from a hook in the ceiling and went to fill it with water.

“The garden cress linguini, please. Firmer than usual.” He slid the old plate of pasta to the counter besides her, as if to serve as an example. “And thank you.”

“Hmm?” Harvest Moon didn’t turn much to face the other servant, although she didn’t seem to be focusing on the ingredients she was throwing from the pantry, either. “Oh, sure. It’s no problem at all. Cooking is…” The dark unicorn cocked her head quizzically, pausing in her work. “It’s fun? I think fun is the right word. Maybe.” Knife in her teeth, Harvest shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly as she began to carelessly slice some mushrooms; they soon joined their fellow ingredients in pasta. “I don’t like going the whole night without cooking anything. It makes me feel… Bored? No, maybe unfulfilled…” she trailed off inattentively, staring awkwardly at the pot in front of her. “On that subject, do you like potatoes in your linguini? On the subject of filling that is. Because potatoes are filling…”

Nightlight had to stop her as she trotted to the pantry. “Umm… no. But thank you,” he professed, attempting to sound grateful for the offer. “It’s just, I’m not sure that Her Highness Luna would really enjoy such… innovative fare on her first night back.” At this comment, Harvest Moon’s visage became one of either distress or nausea. Nightlight wasn’t sure. “Umm, are you alright?”

Harvest turned around, facing him listlessly. “This pasta – you meant it to be for the Princess?”

After going through the strangest twelve hours of his live, Nightlight was not in the least struck by the peculiarity of the question. “Yes, it –”

“Oh,” she said flatly, promptly shifting the pot of noodles from the burner and covering them. “I can’t help you, if that’s the case. Sorry.” This was followed by a lethargic mosey back to the pantry. “Might as well try out the potato linguini, though,” she called, reappearing with a pair of russets and one yam clutched under a hoof.

“Wait. What? N-no,” he began to stutter. “Why?”

Harvest casually flipped her bowl cut mane out of her eyes to better examine the potatoes she’d begun cutting, only to have it fall right back into place. “I’m not supposed to cook for the Princess. Only Mr. Mode is allowed.” In an act of absolute finality, she dumped the sliced spuds into the pot with the noodles. “They’re afraid my food will be too… did you call it innovative? That’s a nice word. Maybe you’re nice. But no, the Head Chef is Princess Luna’s actual Royal Chef, they told me, at least until they find a Royal Chef who’s less innovative. I just have the title. Do you want some, though?” she offered, pointing a hoof towards her creation. “It might be good. Maybe.”

‘Hoof, meet mouth,’ Nightlight grumbled to himself, ignoring the offer. ‘So that’s why I never saw her so far tonight,’ he realized all too late. ‘Well this is typical, isn’t it? I’m that close to success and now... I wonder whose idea this was. Not that it would really make a difference.’ No, right now he had to focus on getting the Princess her food, and ignore the stupidity of the whole situation. ‘Which is unfortunate, because there’s a lot of it. The entire thing is just so trivial. I mean, the midnight meal – is it that important for it to be perfect? Really?’ Yes, she was a goddess, and a princess, and yes, she deserved the best, but for the life of him, he couldn’t understand what the big deal was. ‘I mean, the third was cold, but certainly the first and second plates were good enough, weren’t they?’ But they weren’t.

Sighing to himself and hoping the suggestion would be enough (after all, Harvest Moon had seemed so reasonable just moments prior), he asked amiably, “You couldn’t just, I don’t know, fix a plate for the Princess and not tell anypony? Or blame me for it? Tell them I made you do it?”

“No,” she answered flatly, now adding olives and beets to the linguini. “I’m not allowed to fix food for Princess Luna. That’s the rule, he said.” She began chopping a couple stalks of celery, only to turn her nose up halfway through and pitch it aside. “Not fresh. Do we have anything else?”

The young steward argued in vain as Harvest Moon trotted once more to the pantry to search for ingredients. “Can’t you just ignore the rule? I mean, Princess Luna needs her food. She’s more important that whoever gave you this rule, right?”

“No,” came back the call. “Well, yes, but it’s because Princess Luna’s important that I can’t break this rule. Last time I broke a rule, fifteen guards got food-poisoning. Or was it fifty? I always get those two mixed up.”

“Yes, but…” it was actually very hard to argue with her on this point. Poisoning the Ruler of the Night was the very last thing he wanted to do right now, and judging from the Royal Chef’s ingredient selection (she was currently lugging out a bag of peanuts), Luna would’ve been happier with no food than this dish. But it did nothing to make his position any better. “Well what am I supposed to do now?”

“No clue. It sounds like you’re bucked, unless you want to wake up Ala Mode. What was wrong with that one?” She procured a wooden ladle in her teeth and pointed it at the plate on the counter. “Looks good to me, if a bit plain.”

His tone made it clear that he considered the answer self-evident. “It’s cold.”

“Tch. So?”

‘Now that really should be obvious,’ he told himself, watching Harvest add one third of a strawberry to the pasta. Only a tiny fraction of his self-restraint remaining, he snapped, “The Princess does not like cold food.”

“So heat it up.”

“I’m not going to just micr- huh.” That… actually seemed like a surprisingly good idea. “Where’s the microwave?” he asked, magically grasping the cold plate.

The Royal Night Chef opened her mouth in shock, causing her to drop her spoon into the boiling pot. She didn’t even notice. “What? Microwave? Oh no. Nononono. No. You can’t microwave royal food. Use magic. It’s much better. You get more even heating and less damage to the food.”

It would’ve been good advice, except for one problem. “I don’t know how to heat food magically. I wouldn’t really call it a garden-variety spell. Where’s the microwave?”

Harvest Moon refused to answer him, shaking her head vigorously. “Well unless you’re a gardener, I wouldn’t expect that to make any difference. It’s kitchen-variety. So any baker, chef, cook, cusinier, or meal-maker knows it. Any one worth her salt, at least.”

“So? I’m a steward, not a… any of those. Please, where’s the microwave?”

“But I’m not a steward,” she answered back. “I am a kitchen pony. And probably a unicorn. Ergo, I probably know kitchen spells. Ergo, I probably know how to heat your food. Probably with magic.”

Nightlight finally ran out of patience. “Which doesn’t help me, because you won’t make food for the Princess! Just tell me where the microwave is!”

Harvest Moon was unfazed by the outburst, responding with the same awkward serenity that possessed all her actions. “That’s not breaking any rules,” she professed, trying to figure out how to continue stirring her linguini-concoction.

“Wh… you won’t make her fresh food, but you’ll reheat other food. Really?”

“Sure, why not?” She eventually found another spoon, used it to fish the dropped one from the boiling pasta, and resumed her stirring with the original ladle now in her teeth.

“Really?!” he demanded more than asked. “What’s the difference?”

“Enormous,” she explained around the spoon. “Heating food isn’t making food, is it?” The blue unicorn turned away from Nightlight, added about twenty dashes of garlic powder to the pot and resumed stirring. Her voice dropped several decibels. “Although… you have to heat food to cook food to make food… Sometimes. Normally. But not always. And cooking is part of the making process. For most foods, at least. You don’t have to cook salad. But this isn’t salad. But it’s already been made, so it doesn’t matter. So if it’s already been made, it can’t be remade, maybe…”

Nightlight tuned out the rest of the chef’s monologue as he contemplated the chef’s strange double standard. ‘There’s no time for that.’ If he didn’t hurry, the Princess might go somewhere other than the Night Steward Offices, and then her food would get cold by the time he found her. Time was of the essence, and his piqued words made it clear. “Fine. Then, just warm it up already.”

“No.”

“Of all the- Why not?!”

“Because you’re being mean. Probably. Maybe I just don’t feel like it, but the former’s more likely.” She scratched her chin as if she was actually uncertain. “Hmm… or maybe I’m the mean one for not caring. Do I care at all?.” She returned to her stirring, not even realizing that the mixture was no longer boiling – she’d never put it back on the burner. “Care at all… Carrot all… Carrots…”

Nightlight had had enough. This pony was crazy. Everypony was crazy.

Nightlight was crazy for even trying this job. Noon Nap and Star Quill were crazy for thinking he’d listen to them when he had to deal with the princess. Snowy Slopes was crazy for thinking that he could do this job (or did he?). Ala Mode was crazy for clopping stubbornness. Harvest Moon was crazy for… well, she was just crazy. But most of all, Princess Luna was crazy. She expected him to know everything about the castle, to know exactly what she wanted, to know where she was and where she intended to be, and to know it all yesternight. She expected perfection in everything, from everypony, and all the time. She expected the impossible. ‘It was probably what drove her mad in the first place.’

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

The anti-light spell he’d attached to his bed was still functioning, as witnessed by the gloomy state of the room and his internal clock screaming that it was not yet time for him to wake up. If he had to guess, it was nearly eleven ante meridian, and he felt like he’d been killed and reheated.

‘No, death warmed over would be an understatement.’ Nightlight felt like he’d been dragged through the bowels of Tartarus by an angry Discord before being killed and resuscitated. Twice. The hoof repeatedly jabbing him in the ribs didn’t make matter better. Not even opening his eyes, he growled for the offender to buck off. “I’m sleeping. Get the hay out.”

Nightlight’s insubordination was met with an unveiled threat. “If you do not get up immediately, I’ll call the guards and have you thrown out of the castle. Get up,” Star Quill barked.

Threats did not give him the urge to show his boss any more respect, and it certainly didn’t inspire obedience. “Which they’ll be thrilled about, because you made them drag me all the way to the castle twelve hours ago. Go away.”

A pleasant period of silence ensued, in which the young stallion started to believe the conversation was finished. He was dragged back from half-slumber by the older mare’s shrill voice. “Allow me to make this clear, colt: if you do not show me the respect I merit, you’ll find yourself without a job when you wake up.”

“You know what? I don’t give a flying feather.” The young unicorn simply rolled over and went back to sleep.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

A microwave was not fit for the heating of a princess’ food, asserted Harvest Moon whilst blocking the small appliance corporally. Nor, she continued to assert, would she do the job for a mean pony like Nightlight. Even when faced with the fact that the job was for Princess Luna, and Nightlight was simply the one explaining it, she maintained her stance, claiming that she didn’t see the difference.

“So you won’t cook fresh food for the Princess because your boss told you not to, and you won’t let me use the microwave because Princess Luna deserves better, but you won’t heat this food yourself, because I’m mean?”

She nodded with surprising enthusiasm, smiling as she answered, “My, my. You have a better grasp of the situation than I normally do. Are you hungry?” She ladled out a serving of her strange concoction, using magic to float a plate to the young steward. “You should probably eat something.” She spooned out another plate for herself and began munching away at the colorful creation. “Hmm… seems lacking.”

Lacking was not the term he would have used to describe the crowded fare. In fact, Nightlight couldn’t help but turning his nose up at the strange assortment aromas wafting from the dish. He slid the plate away and gently replaced it with a much more normal and much colder one of his own. “Maybe later. More importantly, what am I supposed to do about this?”

“I don’t know. Eat it, too?” she offered with her mouth full. “I normally think better when I’m full. And I’m less grumpy, too.”

“That’s… just… ugh.” He slumped his head onto the table Harvest had somehow gotten him to sit down at. “No, for crying out loud, I can’t eat it. The princess asked for her food hours ago. At this rate it’ll be sunrise by… the… time…” An unpleasant notion began struck Nightlight. ‘Oh buck.’ “Hey, Harvest?”

“Hmm?” she inquired, flat noodles trailing out of her mouth.

“What time does breakfast begin?”

She gulped noisily, swallowing an enormous mouthful before answering. “You mean when Mr. Ala Mode starts making it? I don’t know. Soon, I guess. Why don’t you just ask him?” Upon seeing the confused look on the dark steward’s face, she pointed a hoof over his shoulder, towards the entrance to the kitchens.

‘Please don’t mean what I think you mean.’ Hoping against hope, Nightlight craned his head around to find a grumpy, green, and only half-awake earth pony marching into the kitchens like he owned them. Which, all things considered, wasn’t entirely inaccurate.

‘Well, maybe he could actually-’

“You,” muttered the cross chef, striding up to the table Nightlight was sitting at. “Get out of my kitchen immediately. I don’t want to ever lay eyes on you while I’m at work, and I’d better not catch you around here again.”

Or not. “Fine.” Grabbing Luna’s pasta in his telekinesis, the colt finally resigned himself to leaving without accomplishing his task – and therefore to another verbal barrage from Princess Luna. He slid from his seat and went out to try to find Luna, dragging his hooves all the way.

It did not make Ala Mode any happier. In fact, he continued his angry tirade as Nightlight walked by. “All you do is get in the way and make things harder for everypony. How am I supposed to accomplish my duties when you’re wasting my time? I’m supposed to be creating fabulous dishes-”

Nightlight tuned the angry chef out entirely. ‘Funny,’ he considered, ‘how easy it is. All a matter of perspective, I guess.’ It probably was; nothing matched up to the ferocious tone of an angry goddess. ‘I wonder if he can actually tell I’m not listening-’

A much higher pitched voice suddenly intruded upon his consciousness as another pony began to speak. “I… I’m sorry,” she lamented, voice cracking. “I, I, I…”

It quickly dawned on the young unicorn that he wasn’t the pony Ala Mode had been talking to. In fact, the head chef might not have even noticed his presence. “I don’t care if you’re sorry. I’ve told you not to be in my kitchens when I’m on duty, and here you are! You’re useless! Why do you expect the right to cook for divinity when you can’t even follow simple orders?”

“But I can follow orders,” she tried explaining woefully. “You told me not to fix food for them and I didn’t-”

“I don’t care! Get out! Get out now, and don’t come back! I’ll be talking to Slopes about a new assistant today, mark my words!”

Nightlight soon found himself standing outside the kitchens’ main entrance with a sobbing Harvest Moon and a plate of linguini no warmer than it had been sixty minutes prior. ‘This night just gets better and better.’

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

The day was improving similarly, Nightlight decided, another hoof rousing him from his sleep. The fact that it wasn’t his alarm clock meant somepony else had taken it upon themselves to worsen his life, and that Star Quill might have actually made good on her threat. Whatever the case, Nightlight didn’t bother to open his eyes. If the guards wanted to throw him out of the castle so be it; he was too tired to care any less. “I’m awake,” he alleged coolly. “What?”

“I need to talk to you Mr. Nightlight,” announced a deep voice.

Only one pony called him ‘Mr. Nightlight’, only one pony spoke in that incredibly calm voice, and there was only one pony that Star Quill would go to with her problems. The word of the Head Steward was law in Castle Canterlot. Nightlight’s eyes shot open and he rolled out of bed with far less grace than he’d have liked. “Sir?” he asked, struggling to untangle himself from his sheets. “What brings you?”

The fact of the matter was, he already knew what brought this pony to his room. Until this year’s Summer Sun Celebration, Snowy Slopes was arguably the second most powerful pony in Equestria. He was certainly not an important pony – amongst the Canterlot elite very few knew his name and fewer still recognized him for his clout, but the fact remained that only Celestia herself had a greater say in the castle’s goings-on than Head Steward Slopes. He was responsible for every aspect of Sun Princess’ affairs, including attending to her schedule, the budget, her well-being, and even her hygiene. He was responsible for everything – every action performed by every servant and every employee of the estate, and that included Nightlight. Snowy Slopes was here because horseapples rolled uphill.

The hoary old unicorn wasted no time in getting to business. “I understand you intend to quit your job. Is this correct?”

His mind had been made up hours ago. “Yessir. I, uh, was informed I could quit at the end of the night, if I so desired,” he explained softly, taking advantage of his bedhead to avoid looking his boss in the eyes.

“Hmm. Really?” His tone was thoughtful more than suspicious. “I suppose these were Ms. Quill’s words?”

“Yessir. She also said I could, uhh, quit earlier, should I turn in a resignation to her Highness in person.”

“Yes, that does sound like her, doesn’t it? Well, just to make things clear, if you quit your current position, you won’t have a spot amongst the castle staff. You’ll lose your job with the stewards, you understand?”

He’d been expecting as much from the beginning. “Yessir.”

“Fine. You were supposed to report to me upon the completion of your duties last night, but I suppose under the current conditions I no longer have much authority over you, do I?”

An unpleasantly pregnant pause followed. “Umm… no sir?”

This answer seemed satisfactory. “Very well. I hereby accept your resignation from the castle staff, Mr. Nightlight. Consider yourself dismissed.” The Head Steward began exiting only to stop himself in the doorframe. “Mr. Nightlight,” he called, turning back to face the young pony once more, “do you have somewhere to live?”

He was already sliding back into his bed, and didn’t bother stopping when he replied. “I’ll probably move back with my parents, sir. They live in the city.”

Slopes didn’t leave. “And what if that doesn’t work?”

“Umm…” He hadn’t actually given any more thought to the subject – there was no reason his parents would turn him away, considering how they seemed to support Red, but he had other options as well. “Move in with my oldest sister, maybe.”

He turned back around. “Well, in that case everything seems to be in order. I imagine you need some sleep, and we’ll fill the paperwork out tomorrow. I’ll expect your room to be vacated by six pm tomorrow.”

Nightlight was asleep before his door was shut.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

A remarkably simple solution presented itself once Celestia’s personal chef ejected Harvest Moon from the kitchens. ‘The funny thing about being a plothole is that you don’t endear yourself to others,’ Nightlight considered, trotting through the castle’s corridors with a (finally) piping-hot plate of garden cress linguini. It had actually been a simple task to convince the distraught night chef that Ala Mode didn’t care if she followed his rules, and certainly wouldn’t know if she broke this one. Her response had been to cast the requested spell and to mope off to the castle’s cellars. His response was to once more attempt stalking down the Lunar Princess.

He tried the Night Stewards’ Office first. Unsurprisingly, the room’s only occupant was a shell-shocked Star Quill, but it was the place to start. “Ma'am? Where’d the princess go?” he asked as casually as he could, not wanting to inflame his supervisor.

If she heard him speak, she gave no sign to suggest it. The dark mare simply stared at the wall opposite her.

He tried again, slightly louder. “Umm, Mrs. Quill? Do you know where the princess went? I’m trying to find her?”

No answer.

He marched right up in front of the desk and shouted, beginning to fear this would be a repeat of his last search. “Mrs. Quill!”

Still no answer.

“WAKE THE BUCK UP!”

She spluttered to consciousness. “Huh?! Why, that, you. What’s the meaning of this, colt?!”

‘I don’t have time for this.’ He stomped a hoof on the ground. “Get your act together, Mrs. Quill! You were chewed out by the princess, that’s all!”

She tried to interrupt. “Don’t you-”

Nightlight wasn’t about to let her. He was fed up with everypony that had made his job difficult this night, and there had been a lot. Before the older steward got two words into her harangue, he snapped. “NO! I don’t have time for this! Just tell me where the princess is, so I can finally give her this stupid bucking food that I’ve been trying to bucking give to her the entire bucking night! It’s because of a dozen clopheads like you trying to stop me and distract me and getting in my way that I can’t get my job done! If I’m late with this, she’s just going to yell at me again, and then she’ll have it out on you again, too!” This last exclamation saw Star Quill wince, meaning he was probably on the right track with the argument. “Just tell me where the hay she is, or where she went, and you can deal with me in the morning!”

The prospect of deferring Nightlight until the morning must have been very attractive for her to agree as readily as she did. “She went upwing,” the fuming mare barked, pointing a hoof deeper into the wing of the castle. “Probably towards her chambers.”

“Thank y-”

“Get the clop out.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Nightlight turned tail and galloped towards Luna’s room. Upon skidding to halt before the towering mahogany doors and single charcoal-coated earth pony guard, Nightlight- ‘Ehh? Guard? As in singular? What the hay?’ Sure enough, only the right-hoof guard was present, his compliment nowhere to be seen. He wouldn’t have noticed it if both had been absent (after all, the doors had remained unguarded for the last thousand years), but with only one guard, the scene was entirely unbalanced.

“Umm, sir? What happened?” No answer. “Sir? I’m the princess’ hoofservant,” he explained with a sigh. “If you would please, what happened and where did she go?”

The austere-looking stallion turned his head a fraction of an inch to look at the pony that had addressed him; Nightlight could’ve sworn he saw clichéd, masculine tears welling in the guard’s eyes. “Her Highness relieved us both from duty. She said we were unfit to be members of the Guard, and that we were disgraceful to Equestria and especially to Her. My partner left to find other ponies to take up the post.”

It was probably the wrong response, but Nightlight couldn’t help it. “Wow. That’s just… wow. But why are you still here?”

“This post must not be abandoned; I will remain here until my relief arrives.”

“But she… dismissed you? Doesn’t that mean-”

“Lunar Hoofservant,” the sentinel interrupted with cold fire in his voice, “even if I am not… acting in my capacity as one of the Guard, I am still a citizen of Equestria. It is the duty of every citizen to serve the princess, or princesses as the case may be, to the utmost of his or her capacity, and I intend to defend this post until I believe it will be safe in my absence.”

“Oh. My… okay. How, uh, how long ago did your partner leave?”

The guardspony narrowed his gaze. “Do you see a clock around here?”

He didn’t. “Good point,” he admitted, suppressing a yawn. “S-sorry about that. Well, um, do you know where the princess went from here?”

The stern-looking earth pony nodded curtly. “The dining hall, I believe.”

“Ah. Breakfast.” Clop.

“So I would assume.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” With that, the gold-barded guard resumed his normal posture, returning to eerie stillness.

Nightlight dashed to the dining hall, optimistic that his journey was nearing an end.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

“Are you Nightlight!? Please wake up! Wakeupwakeupwakeup! Please!” A filly’s frantic voice just barely roused him from his slumber.

To make matters worse, she’d even turned on the lights. ‘Again.’ He didn’t even open his eyes. “Ugh... yeah. That’s me. What?”

“You’re Princess Luna’s Conso- I, I, I mean Hoofservant, and -” Her voice actually sounded cute, if slightly nasal.

He actually considered opening his eyes, just to check what she looked like. “What time is it?”

“It’s six eleven!” she wailed. “I need you! Please!”

‘Six eleven?’ Nopony was that cute. “Whatever. Get out of my room.”

“So you can get up and get ready and stuff?”

“Sure.” He was back asleep before the door closed behind her.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

According to the schedule Nightlight had been briefed on yesterday afternoon, breakfast was served at five thirty. At the moment, it was five twenty-nine. It stood to reason that she was already seated, waiting for her meal to be brought out, and was absolutely livid that she’d never gotten her pasta. Even as he sprinted across the castle (‘Why, oh why, is the dining hall so far from her chambers?’), he considered giving up. She was, after all, about to be presented with an entirely fresh meal – there was actually no reason to deliver the pasta.

Except for the fact that she was a goddess and she’d demanded it of him. Until Princess Luna allowed the moon to set, he was still her hoofservant, and he still had a job to do.

It was at five thirty-one that he finally arrived at the dining hall, the plate of still-warm linguini clutched in his tiring telekinesis. Stumbling into the ornate room, he was utterly thankful that yesterday evening’s crowd wasn’t present to see him gasping for breath, and the Princess Luna’s attention was absorbed by another pony.

“Return it to the sculleries directly!” she bellowed at a cowering earth pony bearing a bowl of oatmeal garnished with daisies and rose petals. “’Tis unfit for Our palate! And this,’ the alicorn yelled, magically hefting an artfully-arranged fruit platter, ‘It is not fare befitting a night’s labors! Wherefore art there not savory and filling dishes, that We might sate the appetite which We have crafted since waking?! Go! Inform Our Royal Chef that her cuisine is intolerable!”

Finally unparalyzed when the princess paused, the terrified servant scurried from the room, somehow grasping two platters in his mouth and three more on his back, leaving Nightlight and the Lunar Princess alone in the hall. ‘It’s now or never, I guess.’ He quietly approached, gathering the courage to attract her attention, only to freeze when she spoke first. “Foolish ponies,” she muttered to herself, “It may have been a thousand years, but it’s not that hard to figure out, is it?”

‘Oh Discord, I’m not supposed to hear this. The longer she speaks, the madder she’ll be when she finds out I’m listening. Oh Goddesses, oh Goddesses…’ It didn’t take long before his fear of speaking was outweighed by his fear of remaining silent. Finally swallowing the lesser of his fears, Nightlight found a little bit of his voice. “Umm… your Highness? I have, uhh, have your meal.” With the best bow he could manage, he slid the plate of linguini onto the table in front of her, and pasted his eyes to the floor, hardly daring to look at her. Silenced reigned in the dining hall for nigh on a minute, her staring at the presented dish and him bearing similar scrutiny upon the marble floor. ‘Celestia, Luna, Discord, Stars, please please please don’t be mad at me.’

“Hoofservant.”

‘Please please please.’ He gulped nervously and opened a single eye towards the sable princess. “Your Highness?”

“The chambermaids inadequately attended to Our boudoir this night – ensure it's cleanliness and organization before We retire. Thou art then to reconvene at the Astral Dais prior to Moonset.”

“Uh, y-yes, Princess. Right away.” Dumbfounded, he took a couple steps backwards before he actually thought to turn around. ‘She’s… not mad?’

“Hoofservant,” she called once more. “We find Ourselves encircled by failure this night.” Her ominous tone froze his very blood. “Attend to this.” There was an implied ‘Or else,’ tacked on to the end.

“Y-y-yes ma’am.”

He left just as the earlier servant returned, impossibly carrying almost a dozen trays by himself. The echoes of her criticisms followed him, as he galloped back across the castle. “Other servants are equally inexperienced, yet they surpass thee in every regard! Hold them as thy standard, and perhaps thou might hope to become an adequate retainer sometime coming!”

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

“Night! Wake up!”

Six fourteen post meridian. It felt like he’d been up since yesterday. Why did it feel like he’d been up since yesterday? And why couldn’t he form coherent words? “Ugghaumflr. Whah?”

“Thank the Goddess! Goddesses, I mean! Didn’t May Ring come here?! Why are you still asleep!?” demanded yet another hysterical voice that Nightlight didn’t recognize. “You’re Luna’s hoofservant, aren't you? Get up!”

‘Hoofservant?’ He snorted dismissively. “I quit. Find somepony else.”

“But you’re the only-”

“I said I quit!” he snarled, rolling over and away from the hooves trying to shake him awake. “Go away!”

“But she said-”

“I don’t care. I quit.”

“But-”

“Quit!”

The frightened pony’s departure was marked by frantic galloping and the slamming of his door – he obviously had somewhere to be.

‘Not that I care,’ Nightlight admitted to himself. He returned once more to sweet oblivion.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

Upon arriving at Luna’s chambers (still just the one guard posted outside), Nightlight found them perfectly satisfactory. Beyond perfect, perhaps. The comfortable-looking bed was faultlessly made, the desk was thoroughly organized, and her bathroom was impeccably clean. He saw not a speck of dust nor a particle out of order.

His unintended sigh turned into a yawn as it escaped his throat. There was nothing amiss with this room, and he was much too tired to care. ‘Inadequate? Really?’ he pondered momentarily. The thought only lasted a moment because he realized it didn’t matter – he was done after moonset. ‘What could possibly be wrong? It's like her food - there was never anything wrong in the first place. Just… just Princess Luna being Princess Luna,’ he decided, taking a last look about the room before leaving. Then he noticed it. ‘Oh. Or not. Wow. How could they miss that? How did I miss that?’ The full length mirror beside the princess’ armoire was cracked. ‘In fact, how did that even happen?’ He could’ve sworn objects like these tended to have anti-shatter spells cast on them; why had this one gone unwarded?

‘Don’t care.’ He was done after tonight, making this a mystery for somepony who was actually concerned about the castle’s gross budget – i.e. somepony else. All he cared about was cleaning up this nonsense and finishing for the night. Using his telekinesis, he carefully cleaned up the mess (after all, it wouldn’t do to leave even a sliver where Her Highness might step upon it) and hauled the –

‘How much does this thing weigh!?’

After thirty minutes of effort, confused looks from half a dozen other servants, and enough straining to give an older stallion a hernia, Nightlight finally managed to telekinetically drag the oversized mirror into the nearest unused room. His task accomplished, the young steward shut his eyes against the sunlight peaking through the windows and collapsed in a puddle of exhausted pony. “Huh, huh. You’re, some other pony’s, huh, problem now,” he panted at the mirror. “And buck you, huh, you’re not supposed to bucking break. Huh, huh. Uggh, I’ve gotta get into shape. Huh. But first...” First he had to finish the day.

He rolled onto his hooves and began to feebly cross the room, mentally cataloguing the last of his duties. ‘Tell somepony about the mirror (maybe), climb the Tall Tower (not looking forwards to that), meet Her at the Dais-’ That’s when is struck him - something was wrong. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. ‘The Dais. The day is...’ A quick glance out the room’s windows confirmed it. The stars were vanished, the moon had set, and a roiling blossom of orange and crimson was rising over the horizon. The day was.

“Oh no.”

Teleportation not amongst his repertoire of spells, he was forced to sprint.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

“NIGHTLIGHT!”

He cast a silence spell, warded his bed from approach, and for one last time today, went back to sleep.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

Luna’s scowl could have turned tides.

‘Clop me with the moon.’

“Our instruction was that thou wert to arrive at the Astral Dais prior to the Moonset.”

“Y-y-y-yes, y-your Highness.”

“Thy recurrent lateness appears as a problem...”

“Y-y-y-yes, y-your Highness.”

“Wherefore is this?”

“...U-Uh, ummm.... what?”

“Why art thou perpetually late?”

‘But... But...’ It took him several seconds to actually form a response. “I-I was cl-cl-cleaning your room, as you asked.”

“We did not command thee to clean our chambers,” she hissed. “Thy charge was ensurance that the task would be accomplished. A difference exists.”

“Y-your Highness?”

As impossible to believe as it was, her scowl deepened, cutting sharp creases in her otherwise perfect face. “Pay no heed; thou understandest not.” She shook her head wistfully, her spectral mane flowing lazily behind her. Was that disappointment on her face? “‘Tis morning, hoofservant. Retire for the day, and We shall resume this exchange upon evenfall.”

As the mighty alicorn ambled slowly towards her own chambers, Nightlight didn’t have the courage to tell her that, no, she wouldn’t see him this evening, despite knowing better.

He was wrong.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

An impossibly loud voice pierced the abjurations of his silence spell.

“HOOFSERVANT!”

Day and Night

The Moon is a Harsh Mistress
by NavyPony

Chapter Five:
Day and Night

She Stared.

‘Your Highness! I’m so sorry! It’s just that-’ Nightlight was completely bewildered. ‘The buck’s going on here?’ he swore to himself.

The princess wasn’t in his room. In fact, he wasn’t in his room. ‘Why aren’t I in my room? For that matter, where am I?’ And more interestingly: ‘Why do I have the feeling that there’s something important I have to tell Princess Celestia?’

First off, he didn’t know what was occurring at the moment, besides the fact that he was walking. Or trotting, rather. Nonetheless, it was a start, and it probably answered question two: he wasn’t in his room because he’d walked/trotted out. It didn’t explain why he’d walked out, but at least it was something, right? The next question, Nightlight’s location, was easily deciphered. It was a hallway, made of the same stone as the castle, spartanly decorated, and too narrow for a full-sized alicorn to comfortably traverse. ‘Definitely one of the servants’ passages,’ he recognized. ‘So then where does this one lead… oh. Oh no.’ At the far end of the hallway, above a small door that was much too ornate for a regular servants’ entrance, hung a large placard embossed with a simple warning: ‘THRONE ROOM: do not enter without official business’.

He couldn’t think of any official business he had besides packing up his things and turning in an official resignation to Snowy Slopes, and both of those things should’ve been done on the other side of the castle. ‘So why… can’t… I… stop?’ Something was wrong with his hooves. Nightlight tried turning around – no effect. He tried halting in his tracks – no effect. He tried to simply slow down – no effect.

He tried swearing aloud – no effect.

‘So apparently you have the urge to go talk to the Princess of Equestria, you’re headed to her throne room right now, you don’t know what you’re supposed to say, and you can’t even move your mouth. Why do you want to do this, exactly?’

Easy answer: he didn’t. Which was all well and good, but it brought up questions with much more difficult answers. Questions such as: ‘Why am I still entering the throne room?’ or ‘Why am I telling the guards that I have a message for Princess Celestia?’ and perhaps most importantly, ‘What is my message?’ That last one was most important because he probably had nine seconds befo-

“Excuse me, your Highness?” A calm, quiet pony spoke, addressing the Sun Goddess from the foot of her multi-tiered throne. Silence. Mumbling background noise disintegrated into deafening quiet. Somepony not on today’s agenda was speaking to Princess Celestia, and every one of the chamber’s occupants looked up from their business (or lack thereof) in interest. Joining the throng of nobles and servants doing the same, Nightlight surveyed the room in search of the voice’s source, only to come across an unfortunate realization. Every eye in the room was on him.

Said eyes included the pale magenta orbs of the most powerful pony in the world. ‘No, wait. What about Luna? I mean… Aren’t they co-sovereigns or something? Maybe they’re tied?’ Things used to be so simple. ‘Well, Celestia still holds more political power, so I guess…’ Nightlight’s internal monologue served only to distract him; almost too late he realized that Princess Celestia was answering him. “Yes?” she intoned melodically, a gentle smile on her face as she examined the dark-coated steward. “Nightlight, I believe it is?”

Confusion: ‘Wait. Wait wait wait. WAIT. That’s not possible. Surely she misspoke. She can’t know my name. Star Quill doesn’t know my name. Not even Luna knows my name – she just calls me ‘hoofservant’. But-’

Shock: ‘It doesn’t matter how. She knows my name. Celestia knows my name. Princess Celestia of Equestria knows me, Nightlight! This is-’

Excitement: ‘Incredible! Think of the opportunity! If she knows my name then maybe-’

Realization: ‘She knows what I do in the castle. Which means that-’

Fear: ‘She knows how much I’ve failed her sister and-’

Despair: ‘I’m screwed.’

Numbness: ‘…’

“Yes, Princess. I have a message on behalf of your sister, Her Royal Highness Princess Luna.” The panic playing out in his head remained indiscernible to his audience; Nightlight’s voice remained perfectly composed. “Though she has retired for the morning, she desires to speak with you at your next convenience.” Something seemed weird in that sentence. ‘She’s retired for the morning? Isn’t it still the evening?’

Celestia found the statement perfectly reasonable, or at the very least gave no indication to the contrary. “Of course, thank you,” she answered, adding the most delicate of nods and ignoring the whispers running through the crowd. “Oh Snowy?” she called lightly. “What’s my schedule look like for this morning?”

There it was again – morning. It wasn’t morning, it was evening. Princess Luna had woken him up in the evening.

An old unicorn stallion with a pale coat materialized from behind the throne, shocking Nightlight enough to jumpstart his brain. ‘Has he been there the whole time? He just stepped out of nowhere and… Oh. I’m… What the hay am I doing? I’m talking to…’ Whether on account of chance or self-preservation, his brain managed to gloss over that part when the little pony in his head corrected him. ‘No, you were talking to Princess Celestia. And that, unfortunately, brings up another question: how, precisely, was that possible? How can you form whole sentences? Weren’t we brain dead? Why is she holding court if it’s not the daytime? AND WHAT THE BUCKING HAY IS GOING ON HERE!?’

Nightlight’s disturbed ruminations on the subject were not only fruitless, they were distracting. He missed Slopes’ answer (‘Maybe you were drugged.’). Then he missed the question Celestia followed up with (‘Perhaps you’re being possessed?’). He noticed neither the Head Steward’s response nor the declaration the Princess gave to the throne room afterwards (‘It could be parasites. Or zebra voodoo!’). It was the collective gasp of every other pony in the chamber that pulled Nightlight from his reverie.

“But my appointment!” a mare yelled from deep within the crowd.

“What are we going to do?” whinnied another.

“I need to speak to you right away!” shouted a pegasus floating above the crowd.

“But… But… This isn’t fair!” whined an especially petulant-sounding unicorn.

“Your Highness, we need your help!” brayed a self-important stallion.

“My appointment is absolutely urgent!” declared a griffon loudly.

“You can’t abandon us like this!” cried another mare, visibly tearing up.

“It’s for the stability of our nation!” announced a deep-voiced noble.

The Sovereign of Equestria (or was that Co-Sovereign now?) maintained her perfect calm in the face of this rapidly spreading discontent. “My little ponies.” She spread her wings serenely and took to her feet, pastel mane wafting as she descended her throne’s dais. “Anypony that wishes to reschedule an audience may speak to my steward.” Slopes reared up on his hind legs so that he could be seen above the crowd. “Priority will be given to those with the most important business.”

Hell broke loose. The entire room galloped, flew, or fought their way towards the Head Steward, ignoring almost everything and everypony in their way. Princess Celestia, by grace of her being a princess, was spared from the onslaught, but Nightlight was nearly trampled before he could crawl to the nearest side-exit. Then they began screaming.

“Start-up capital to help new businesses!”

“A grant for under-educated earth ponies!”

“My family will starve without a tax extension!”

“Scholarships for the foals of disabled Wonderbolts!”

“I need funding for my research! It could save lives!”

“Bridlevale’s farmers will go bankrupt without additional subsidies!”

“Fiscal backing for the DSTA!”

“We must discuss the trade relations between our nations!”

“Auntie cut my spending money again!”

The faintest edge of a grimace emerged on Celestia’s face when she heard this last remark. “Oh, and Snowy?” Her chipper voice rang through the din much as her long legs allowed her to cut through the crowd. “I don’t know how long this is going to take, so…”

He was practically floating in a maelstrom of ponies, but the old steward still managed to levitate a trio of clipboards, send hoof signals to the Royal Guard, and shout his affirmations to the Princess. “Understood, your Majesty! It’s already done!”

“Thank you!” she called over her shoulder before finally arriving at Nightlight’s position at the edge of the room. “Now then, shall we go?”

Nightlight was not thrilled. Certainly Princess Celestia, of all ponies, ought to know her way about Castle Canterlot. After all, she’d lived here for hundreds years, so there was no way she could get lost. ‘And her guards?’ They’d stayed behind to help Slopes keep control of the crowd, but it wasn’t as if she actually needed the burly pegasi, and even if she did, it wasn’t as if Nightlight would be much protections against a would-be assassin. Which left only one reason that she’d ask a pony to follow her: Princess Celestia wanted to talk.

“Tell me about yourself, my little pony,” she requested. Or commanded. When it came to nobility and royalty, there wasn’t much difference.

The young steward responded automatically, not entirely thinking about his answers – apparently he was still halfway on autopilot. “What would you like to know, your Highness?”

Nightlight looked over his shoulder at the mare following him only to find her smiling plainly back. “Whatever you want to talk about. What’s important to you?”

He paused, looking forwards again as he considered the question. ‘What’s important to me?’ Last week he’d probably have said his job was important to him. This was actually the opportunity that most ponies dreamed about – the chance to gain favor with Princess Celestia, and all he wanted to do was end it as soon as possible. Nonetheless, his answer had to be: “My family, Your Highness.”

Celestia answered so quickly that she must have predicted what he was going to say. “Tell me about your family.”

But then, he should’ve expected this follow-up. “Well… my mother’s a unicorn, my father’s an earth pony. They’re married, and umm, he took her family name. She works as a supervisor at the powerplant, and he’s a doorman at a, uh, bar downtown.” He paused, waiting for the most respectable pony in the world to say something about his father’s profession, but she didn’t. “Umm, I have three sisters. Two are older than I am, one’s younger.” ‘What else, what else?’ “My oldest sister is also a unicorn, the other two are earth ponies. Umm…” ‘What else, what else?’ “My oldest sister works nights at the same powerplant as my mom, and my younger sister is in construction…”

“And the middle sister?”

“She, uh, still lives at home. Most of the time. She hasn’t been able to find a job.” He noticed a concerned look coming from the princess and… ‘Oh clop, she doesn’t think I’m blaming her for…’ He scrambled to recover. “But um, it’s not because of the economy, or anything like that. I don’t mean to imply that. She just, uh, isn’t really motivated. Kind of lazy, actually.” An even stranger look came his way. “I mean, I love her! It’s just that, uhh…” What was he going to say? This was the Princess!

She, however, seemed to find Nightlight’s fears trivial. “It’s quite alright. We’re all different, and it takes everypony their own time to find their place in the world. It’s kind of like a second cutie mark.”

Whew.

“And yourself? You’ve told me about your family, but what about you?”

Gulp. “Uhh… pardon me, but how do you mean, your Majesty?”

She laughed. It was a light, bubbly laugh both beautiful for the sound and intimidating for the pony making it. “The usual way, of course. How else would I mean it?”

‘Buck me.’ Pretty soon there were going to be two alicorns who thought he was a fool. “Y-y-yes, your Majesty. I’m, I’m sorry, it’s just… I don’t have much experience dealing with royalty, and I’m…” The term ‘freaking out’ came to mind, but didn’t seem like the right words to use. “I’m just an assistant steward.”

“Don’t be worried, it’s quite alright,” Celestia assuaged. “I’m rather used to ponies being nervous around me. Although… I’d say you have more experience dealing with royalty than most servants, considering your newest assignment.” She smiled at him sweetly. “And you certainly have more experience serving my sister than anypony else.”

So... she didn’t just think Nightlight was stupid, she was calling him a liar, too. He maintained his silence.

“Speaking of my sister…”

‘Oh Goddess, let’s not talk about all the times I’ve bucked up.’

“How did you get chosen for the job?”

Oh. That. “Umm, that’s…” What was the best way to explain this? And did she really not know? “I was getting ready for my duties – I work for the night stewards, right?”

She laughed again, the same cheerful sound. “Yes, you mentioned that.”

Nightlight refrained from swearing. “Yes, sorry. Anyways. My supervisor, Noon Nap, called me, saying most of us on the night staff had a special meeting. I got there and Slopes, I mean, Mr. Slopes,” Celestia smiled at the slip-up but didn’t say anything, “said he had a special job for some of us. He interviewed us with Star Quill and-” Pause. “That’s the Head Night Steward, do you-”

The Princess nodded, smiling. “Continue.”

‘Why wouldn’t she know who Star Quill is, you clophead?’ he cursed himself. “Anyways, based on coloring and experience and, and I think it was only the ponies with cutie marks of stars or the moon or something night-related, we were all assigned jobs. He said that a steward would be the best fit for this job, and…” And that was all Nightlight really had to say that wouldn’t make Slopes sound bad, and that meant it was time to shut up. ‘Not that I expect to be working here much longer but…’ It just couldn’t have been prudent to tell Celestia that he didn’t much like her Chief Steward. Added to that, he couldn’t really say whether Slopes could have done something better – what other options did the Head Steward have? “Well, I became the Lunar Hoofservant, and that’s that, I think.”

“Is that so?” Celestia commented, voice unreadable. “It sounds like you find the task difficult.”

“Umm…”

She responded with a chuckle, albeit a demure one. “Don’t worry. If Snowy thought you could do it, you can. He’s exceptionally perceptive, you know. But what makes that so useful, is that he’s so good at figuring out what I want from him and acting accordingly. He’s a great steward.” Her smile shifted into what could have more rightly been called a grin, and bent forwards with a look that was... well… ‘Would you call that sinister?’ Nightlight didn’t know, but he sincerely hoped otherwise - the very idea of a sinister princess was utterly terrifying. Celestia seemed totally unaware of the ambiance she was giving off. “Ask me for an example,” she whispered. “Go on, ask.”

There was no chance of getting around that. “Then, what did you mean, your Highness?”

The Princess’ gaze slid back and forth about the hallway, ascertaining that the two of them were the only ones nearby. “When we were leaving the throne room just now, do you remember what I told Snowy?”

Only very vaguely. “Umm, that this might take a while?” The young steward pleaded with the powers that be that this was the answer for which she was looking.

Celestia nodded and leaned in especially close, a conspiratorial glint in her eyes (it wasn’t sinister he’d seen, it was conspiracy. ‘Which, admittedly, is only a little bit better,’). It was rather alarming coming from a pony of her import. ‘And her height.’ Nonetheless, the powers that be smiled on him – he was right. “Well yes, but there’s more going on here.” Okay, he was halfway right. “You see, Snowy knew what I really meant when I said that,so I was able to keep my actual message secret.”

She begged the question to the point that it was practically an order, and Nightlight’s curiosity was overcoming his restraint. “So… what was the actual message, Your Majesty?”

She giggled like a mischievous schoolfilly who’d just pranked the teacher. “That when he rescheduled my appointments, he would mysteriously be unable to find time for a certain pony.” She paused for dramatic effect, pastel mane fluttering despite the lack of wind. “Does that make sense?”

Princess Celestia was probably filing all of his shortcomings away for future reference, but... ‘It’s worse to lie than to look stupid, right?’ He decided to look stupid. “No?”

“Think about it,” she said, continuing the cross-castle trot. “Start at the beginning.”

“Well, you said that this may take a while…” Nightlight tried recreating her logic, scrunching his brow up in concentration. “So... you meant that it would definitely take a while?”

She pouted her lips in a falsely apologetic manner. “I may have implied it.”

“Which would mean that the rest of your day would be, uh, busy, I think”

“Go on.”

“So, what? That means you may not have time for everything, so…”

“You’re on the right track.”

“So, you meant that… Oh. I think I get it.”

She beamed, but somehow still retained that conspiratorial aura. “Explain.”

“If you don’t have time for everything, your schedule has to change. So Mr. Slopes should, well, use good judgment deciding how your new schedule is arranged, right? It means that the least important appointments ought to be cancelled first.” It seemed simple enough. “You’re having him decide which appointments to cancel.”

Celestia nodded. “You’re halfway there. Keep going.”

“Umm... I... don’t understand,” he admitted. “What else is there for him to do?”

The Sun Goddess an abrupt halt in the middle of the hallway and turned all the way around to face him. “That explains it.”

The young steward had to restart his heart before he could construct a rudimentary reply. “Y-Your Highness?”

“You’re looking at everything the wrong way.”

“I-I’m sorry?” He didn’t know what he was sorry for, but he’d obviously made some sort of terrible mistake. He bowed his head down, breaking the line of sight with his long mane. “I’m really sorry, Your Highness.”

The Princess just responded with a gentle smile. “Don’t be worried, my little pony. I rather doubt anypony explained this to you, so I can’t imagine it’s your fault.” It was amazing how her voice just evaporated worry. “Don’t ask yourself what Snowy needs to do; instead, ask what I would want Snowy to do.” She started walking again, forcing Nightlight to follow. “If you were me, what would you want him to do?”

‘Oh sweet Celestia... What does she want me to say?’ He followed after her for some time, until the pressure became too much. “I... don’t know, Your Highness,” he confessed. “I couldn’t presume to-”

“Nightlight,” she spoke, stopping yet again. “Me and my sister may be alicorns, but we aren’t so different from anypony else. Now you just saw the Day Court; tell me honestly what you thought. Pretend I’m one of your sisters, and you’re telling me about it.”

Pretending the Princess was anypony else was as futile a task as any, but he tried. “Honestly? It sounded like some of those ponies were doing important things, but some of them sounded pretty... self-important.”

Celestia blew a raspberry and started moving once more. “That’s a nice way of putting it. Some of them are complete plotholes.”

Nightlight had to double check his memory to make sure he heard that right, and yes, he did. ‘Princess Celestia actually said the word plothole.’ He didn’t know if the situation called for laughter or shock. “Y-Your Highness?”

“What? It’s true,” she asserted humorously. “Go ahead. Say it. And then tell me what you’d do if you were in my horseshoes.”

“They’re...” Nightlight gulped down his fear. And treason. “They’re... plotholes. And... and I wouldn’t want much to do with them.”

“So? What would you want Snowy to do?”

“I’d...” It clicked. “You want Mr. Slopes to cancel their appointments! All the ponies you don’t like, he’ll mysteriously be unable to fit them into the schedule.”

She sounded pleased by his revelation. “There. You can be just as good a servant is Snowy is, you know that? You just lack the experience,” she declared, “and it’s not like anypony starts out knowing what to do. Why, I remember when Snowy was just starting out and he tried to hire me a- oh, it looks like we’re here.” Nightlight realized with a mild start that there was a duo of dark-coated unicorns and a pair of mahogany doors in front of them. Neither the guards’ heavy barding nor their weighty gazes were welcoming, but Celestia addressed them as casually as she spoke to anypony. “Good morning, gentlecolts.”

They both stepped aside and saluted pointedly, but without the well-rehearsed synchronicity one usually saw in a pair of royal guards. They were obviously unused to working together.

“Your Majesty.”

“Y-Your Majesty,” they replied, slightly out of time with each other.

“I’m here to see my sister. I assume she’s in?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. You are expected,” indicated the right-side guard rigidly. “But we were instructed to allow no other ponies entrance.” He broke his gaze away from the Sun Princess to look at Nightlight personally. “I believe Her hoofservant is included.”

Celestia furled her brow upon hearing this. “Oh? Well, I suppose it isn’t entirely unexpected,” she stated to nopony in particular. “Did my sister mention any particular reason?”

The sentry hesitated under her large eyes, but he recovered with commendable speed. “Ah, no ma’am. However, she mentioned that this was to be a private exchange between Herself and Your Highness. I believe no other ponies are to be privy to it.”

“Naturally, naturally.” She stepped between the guards and lifted a hoof as if to knock upon the doors. Before it struck, however, she stopped, turning to the right-side guard with a look that might have been what? Concern? “And are you just going to stand there and listen outside the doorway, or will you move your post to somewhere more secluded?”

The senior guard paused to consider the query for an unexpectedly long time before giving Celestia a prompt salute and an ecstatically relieved expression. “Understood, ma’am,” he declared before and trotting further down the hallway. “Come now, corporal.”

The left-hoof guard wavered, shifting his weight from leg to leg uncomfortably and examining his forehooves as he did so. But he stood fast. “Uhh, staff sergeant? We can’t. The Fifth-”

“Corporal Ribchester, do not quote the General Orders of the Sentry at me,” the first urged, not slowing his pace. “Princess Celestia asked us to move, so we do it.”

“But…” The junior guard looked blankly between his retreating superior, the serene smile on Princess Celestia’s face, the look of confusion on Nightlight’s.

“Corporal!” barked the staff sergeant, his voice trailing as he marched down the hallway. “Didn’t you hear about Lieutenant Midwatch the other night? Do you want to end up the same as him?”

Something in Nightlight perked up, distracted from the little struggle playing out in front of him; he remembered meeting that pony last night – an officer, apparently. ‘What happened to him?’ Against his better judgment, he turned to whisper the question to the alicorn standing beside him, but stopped upon noticing the melancholy on her face and turned back to the arguing guards.

Corporal Ribchester’s visage was almost as painful, but founded on self-preservation more than pity. He winced, biting his lower lip and closing his eyes as if the staff sergeant’s words were a physical blow. Nonetheless, the pony stood his ground. “But Her Highness-”

“And Her Highness has told us to move! Ergo, we move!” the senior sentry brayed as he turned the far corner.

The sight of which was apparently the last straw for his subordinate. As if rationalizing aloud, the younger guard began to speak in a meek voice. “Well, I suppose this case isn’t covered by instructions, and the Ninth… Umm, excuse me, your Majesty.” Corporal Ribchester galloped off as well, leaving Nightlight and Celestia in an otherwise empty hallway.

The Sun Princess watched the younger guard leave with an amused expression before addressing the young pony besides her. “It was a pleasure speaking with you, Mister Nightlight, but if you’ll excuse me, my sister and I have something important to talk about…” Princess Celestia shrugged as she trailed off and- ‘And did she just wink at me!?’

She had already begun to knock on the ornately carved doors in front of them, but Nightlight couldn’t keep from… doing... something. ‘Like what? Asking if she has something stuck in her eye?’ That would’ve been utterly cliché. “Excuse me, but, uh, Your Highness? Should I go with the guards?”

Judging from the face she responded with, Princess Celestia seemed surprised at the question “Hmm? Mr. Nightlight, I’m giving you… oh, what’s the term? Liberty. You have liberty for the day,” she answered before turned back to the door and knocking again. “Lulu? Your hoofservant said that you wanted to speak to me.”

‘But… but…’ Against his better judgment, Nightlight addressed the Princess once more. “But should I-”

“Nightlight,” the princess whispered with a feeble sigh, “I’ve granted you liberty. I don’t really have any authority over where you are or what you’re doing, in the castle or out of it, for the rest of the day. And if there are no guards around to say you shouldn’t be somewhere, well, I don’t see a problem with you being there. Just report back for your duties this evening.”

When royalty sounded annoyed, the conversation was perilous at best. When divinity sounded annoyed, the conversation was over. He gave up, bowing deeply and holding the position. “Y-yes ma’am. Thank you ma’am.”

Just as he finished speaking, Princess Luna’s voice carried to the hallway. Her voice was quite clear, despite her uncharacteristically low volume. “Come in, sister.” The doors were swathed in an aura of bluish-grey, and the lock clicked open. “But just you, please.”

“Just me,” the elder sister assured, edging the door open so that Nightlight couldn’t see within and Luna couldn’t see without. “Although, I think you worry too much about eavesdroppers.” She stepped inside, turning around to close the doors behind her. She winked again (‘Again!’) as she did so. “Now, what is it you wanted to talk about?”

The door clicked, and Nightlight’s mind started spinning in circles.

It was obvious what message the Sun Goddess had been trying to send; it was her reason that had him baffled. ‘Why would she do that? I mean, what could she want me out here for? This is supposed to be a private conversation! The guards said it! And the Princess! And the other Princess! They’ll make glue out of me if somepony catches me out here! But...’ But Princess Celestia had practically told him to stay out here. Sure, she hadn’t said as much, but… ‘It’s clearly what she wants me to do…’

‘If Princess Celestia tells you to do something wrong, do you do it?’ It was like a hypothetical situation out of an ethics class. ‘Is it really wrong? I mean, she wouldn’t have wanted me to stay if I shouldn’t.’ Nightlight honestly had no clue what the right answer was, but as long as he was being honest with himself… this was a chance that nopony could pass up. Curiosity getting the better of him and his worry, the young pony sidled closer to the ornate double doors and pressed one ear against them.

They’d already begun their conversation, and seemed to be speaking hushed tones. “-have time to talk with you.” That was Celestia. “You were thinking about our discussion at sunrise?”

“Moonset, yes. We… discussed my relationship with my servants, and that’s one of the things I wanted to talk about. What I said, and especially how I behaved… it was wrong, and I want to apologize.” Luna responded with… ‘Is that reluctance in her voice?’ It was a different sound than Nightlight was used to hearing. It was still the strong voice of the Moon Princess, but it seemed less harsh - both softer and smoother.

“Don’t be silly Lulu, that’s not nece-”

Luna interrupted, slightly more forcefully. “It is too necessary. My reaction was entirely inappropriate. I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you when we disagreed. It was immature of me. You’re my sister, and I know you have my best interests at heart, but I wasn’t able to see that. And I especially shouldn’t have criticized you like that in front of your servants, for countless reasons. I was acting like a foal, and I’m sorry. Will you please forgive me?” she finally concluded in a hurried fashion. If Nightlight had been able to pay attention to more than just the words, he’d have come to the conclusion that it was a prepared speech.

Instead he simply strained his ears for the older sister’s response – they were practically talking about him, after all. “Forgive you? There’s nothing to forgive.” There was a long pause of what might have been hugging, or perhaps just awkward staring (far be it from him to know), before Celestia picked the conversation back up. “But have you thought any more about what I said?”

“Yes, and,” answered the younger sister calmly.

“And?” asked Celestia.

‘And?’ thought Nightlight.

“And I maintain my position. I am perfectly justified in my behavior.”

“Oh.” Celestia maintained a surprisingly neutral tone. Certainly it was more neutral that Nightlight could have managed. “Why?”

Luna sounded just as dispassionate. “That’s not fair, sister. You’re trying to shift the burden of proof on me, but you’re the one who asserted that I’m wrong. It should be me asking you the same question.”

“Good point.” There was a brief pause in which the clicking of gold-shod hooves could be heard pacing inside. Celestia was probably putting her thoughts together. “Equestria’s different now, Lu; ponykind has changed a lot. Not physically, maybe, but mentally and socially. Ponies are better educated and more reasonable than they’ve ever been. Crime is at an all-time low, unrest is at a healthy minimum, and nopony’s tried to assassinate me for almost four hundred-”

Nightlight’s knees shook a hair at these words. Another pony to try assassinating an alicorn was impossible. It was unthinkable. It was heresy.

It was distracting him from the conversation upon which he’d been subtly ordered to eavesdrop. Celestia was just finishing up her argument. “-can mostly govern themselves now; all we really need to do is provide some guidance.”

“How does this relate to my treatment of my servants?” came the response, sounding more like the Luna that Nightlight was familiar with. “So our roles in the country at large have changed. Understood. But this does not address my relationship with my servants.” Luna’s hoofsteps joined joined her sister’s; they had a quicker tempo which couldn’t be entirely ascribed to shorter legs. “You have not addressed the subject at hoof, methinks. Are you suggesting that modern ponies’ failures should be ignored because they are well-educated? Am I not allowed to rebuke our subjects for their mistakes?”

“That’s… no, that’s not what I’m saying, Lu. What I mean is that you’re not treating them with the respect they deserve. Be patient with them, they’re not perfect.”

“I have given them more patience than they deserve, and as for respect? I am holding them to the same standards they hold of me. What respect am I not showing them? Enlighten me, please.” Nightlight didn’t pick up on the tiny bit of petulance in the Moon Goddess’ voice. “It is your specialty, is it not?”

He did, however, hear the frustration in the older sister’s words. “That’s what I’m trying to do!”

“Well I don’t understand, sister. It’s… you’re being vague. Just… What am I doing wrong?”

“For one?” Without warning, Celestia shifted from frustrated to an angry, almost indignant tone. “The Stare. Staring ponies is right out.”

Luna replied with complete innocence. “Is that so? I wasn’t aware of this rule.”

Nightlight hadn’t been aware of this rule, either. In fact, he hadn’t known The Stare existed. The Stare was an old mare’s tale. Everypony knew that. It was conspiracy theory and psuedoscience, like android-ponies, psychic gypsy powers, and spontaneous pony combustion. Everypony sane, rational pony with a halfway grasp of magic theory knew the Stare didn’t exist. It couldn’t exist.

Unless you asked the two alicorns who controlled Equestria, apparently. Because one of them had used it. On a pony, no less.

‘What in the name of Discord’s dice is going on?!’

Nightlight realized he wasn’t going to figure it out on his own, and pressed his ear back against Luna’s door. “Firstly?” Princess Celestia was speaking. “Ponies are going to be afraid of you. I don’t think anypony even knows that we can Stare, not anymore, and especially not on ponies. What are you going to do if the media finds out about this?”

The Night Princess made a disdainful noise before speaking. “You know as well as I that the recipient never remembers it. Besides, I only Stared one pony, and it only happened twice. They were isolated incidents.”

“You Stared him for the whole night! Literally, the entire night! He’s probably forgotten the last twelve hours of his life, and he was still suffering from the aftereffects when he came to get me!” Celestia shouted. “But that’s not even the worst of it. I mean, that pony is your hoofservant! Why-”

Nightlight’s brain stalled. The Stare. Him. That was impossible. ‘That’s impossible.’ It was impossible. But it explained so much.

‘But it’s impossible.’

‘But it makes sense. The morning/evening thing – it’s missing time. And the weirdness going to talk to Princess Celestia just now. It seems… possible. Really possible.’ Plus, the wisest pony in Equestria was talking about it as fact. Which meant possible didn’t even begin to cover it; it was the truth.

‘But it can’t be.’

‘What about bringing Princess Luna to the Tall Tower?’ Admittedly, the last thing he’d remembered before finding himself there was Her Highness’ eyes. ‘And the same thing this morning. Or yesterday. Or... whenever.’

Nightlight didn’t know how long it took him to churn through his thoughts. It could’ve been seconds or minutes; at more than one point he almost walked away, having totally forgotten his reason for being present. He didn’t hear the rest of Celestia’s words. He didn’t hear her stamp her hoof in anger. He didn’t hear Luna’s response, or Celestia’s follow-up, or however many similar exchanges occurred in his reverie.

Eventually, however, he did come back to cognizance, shoving the thought of being Stared out of his mind until he could think about it in the future. In the meantime, all he could do was go into autopilot and listen.

Luna, coolly: “So be it, but you’re wrong about something else: that pony’s not my hoofservant. He was my hoofservant. I’ve decided to replace him with a more competent subject.”

Celestia, sounding surprised and upset: “Oh Lulu that’s… Why?”

Luna, rationally: “Many reasons. He has failed the majority of his assigned tasks, and he is consistently tardy with those he completes successfully. He regularly fails to heed my orders. He is thoughtless, and rarely considers the consequences of his behaviors. Worse yet, he lacks initiative. He lacks discipline. He lacks bearing. He lacks attention to detail. He is, over all, quite inept, and I desire another servant,” she concluded simply. “In fact,” as an afterthought, “most of my staff is inept, and I desire many new servants. Nonetheless, his position is most important. I intend to replace him immediately.”

Celestia, taken aback: “Lulu, the only thing he lacks is experience. I- I was just talking to him on the way up here. He has potential.”

“I disagree,” Luna stated flatly. “On the first account, at least. He lacks many qualities which I desire in a servant. Moreover, I don’t want a pony with potential, I want one with competence.”

Celestia sighed loudly enough to be heard through the heavy doors. “Who would you rather have?”

The following pause was inordinately short. “Hypothetically speaking? Somepony akin to your chief steward. He seems both responsible and dutiful, and he’s been of exceptional service. My current hoofservant doesn’t hold a candle to-” Pause. “Can I still say that? Or does one say, ‘doesn’t hold a flashlight to him,’ now? Has the idiom changed? Do ponies still use candles?”

“Ahem,” Princess Celestia cleared her throat loudly, and probably not because she had anything stuck in it. “About Snowy?”

“Snowy? Oh, your steward, yes. I don’t mean to take him precisely – he is your steward after all, but certainly there other servants of his caliber. Perhaps one of his direct subordinates?”

“I talked to him about that. He said most of them wouldn’t be useful to you – either too specialized in their duties, or the wrong… I think he used the word ‘deportment.’ For example, I hear you met the Head Night Steward on your first night…” Knowing the subject in question, Nightlight could almost hear Celestia waggle an eyebrow mockingly. “I don’t think she’s really what you’re looking for.”

“No,” Luna snapped. “She refuses to accept responsibility for her subordinates and… Hmm. I see what you’re doing.”

If it had been any other pony, Nightlight would have expected to hear smugness in the response, but the Sun Goddess was above that. “Then you-”

“But my point is still valid,” the younger interrupted. “My hoofservant-”

“Lulu,” Celestia interrupted back, not so loud that one could think she was angry, but enough to stop her sister midsentence. “The entire castle is at your disposal. Anypony who would make a better hoofservant, regardless of their current duties, you can have.”

“Anypony I want? That’s perfect; anypony would be better,” she answered flippantly before suddenly taking a suspicious turn. “What’s the catch?”

“Well, I should mention that I meant anypony except for me. But think about it Lulu, I control the sun better than you, and you have a way with the stars that I utterly lack – so… which one of us is the better?”

More click click click of hooves pacing resonated from the room – presumably Luna’s while thinking about the question. “You mean like Hooves-Horn-Wings?”

“They call that game ‘Rock-Paper-Scissors’ now, but yes. Your hoofservant is by no means perfect, sister, but anypony that has him beat in any regard is lacking in some other quality. Nopony I can think of would beat Nightlight hooves-down.”

“Nightlight?”

“Nightlight,” the Sun Goddess intoned in an almost sickly-sweet manner, “is the name of your hoofservant. And I have complete faith in him.” Her voice sounded mocking, challenging. Competitive.

Luna responded with an almost jovial fervor. “Ah. So if I can come up with one…”

“Anypony. You can just name positions, if you want.”

“Oh?” the younger challenged. “I don’t remember your games being so easy.”

‘Game?’

“It wouldn’t be fair otherwise,” the Sun Princess answered in a mock-sinister tone. “But it won’t make a difference, you know. I haven’t lost an argument in a thousand years - it’s the ultimate winning-streak.”

Luna laughed. She actually laughed. “They’re being nice, sister. They let you win. I won’t.”

“Fine. Your move.”

“Very well, then. I choose, oh…” Luna trailed off falsely, pretending to think. “How about the Chief of the Between Staff?” she suggested casually.

“You know better, Lulu,” her sister chided, “Corry Dorey is relatively powerful within the castle. Anypony not used to taking direct orders won’t make a decent hoofservant. Try again.”

Luna sounded unbothered by the immediate shutdown, but she seemed no more resolved in her next suggestion than the previous. “Well, the Second Maid, perhaps?”

“She’s a great maid, but she’s a maid. Honestly, most maids don’t know enough about goings-on throughout the entire castle to be good hoofservants. Shiny’s no exception.” There was a brief space before Celestia asserted, “But you could have guessed that, no?”

“No more warm-ups, then. How about the second butler, or whatever the position is called nowadays?” Luna sounded only an edge more serious.

Celestia managed to sound dismissive and disappointed at the same time. “Sebastian. He was the pony assigned as your personal butler and, unfortunately, he turned in his resignation last night.”

‘Sebastian quit?’ Nightlight had met the stallion on only a couple occasions, and while he had a demonic personality, Sebastian had been utterly zealous when it came to his duties. ‘He was one hell of a butler.’

Freshly arrived at the castle, Princess Luna obviously didn’t understand the significance of Sebastian’s quitting. She simply offered another possibility. “One of the Royal Guard.”

Celestia scoffed chidingly. “Assuming a guard would gladly accept the job? Would you prefer one with no leadership experience, or one who refuses to get her hooves dirty?”

It seemed like the question was expected, judging by the abruptness of her response. “I’d prefer a senior NCO, actually.”

“Most noncommissioned officers are too specialized. You need somepony with a wider range of skills and more accustomed to these sorts of duties.”

“A batmare.”

“That’d be an excellent choice… if the rate still existed.”

“Oh?” Judging from her intonation, this took Luna by surprise. On the otherhoof, it didn’t surprise Nightlight in the slightest, because he’d never even heard the term before. Luna continued with a slightly stoic timbre. “Your best court valet,” she finally suggested.

Celestia took on a decidedly less pleasant tone at the mention. “Tsk. The court valets are all peers, Lulu, and if one thing hasn’t changed, it’s the nobility. If I could find one that was more concerned with Equestria’s well-being than the family name, I’d make her a princess on the spot.”

“I imagine the Lady-Lieutenants are in the same boat?”

“I don’t think you want a pony who can’t get dressed without her own servants.”

“Hmph.” Luna’s tone became increasingly surly, like she was now struggling to prolong this ‘game’ of theirs. “Do you still choose your private secre-”

The suggestion was evidently predicted. “Pompano Cutter is an old veteran of the guard, and he’s an exceptional pony. He leads well, he knows how to obey, and he’s familiar with everything in the castle.”

Luna refrained Nightlight’s thoughts. “He sounds perfect. What’s the catch?”

“He does all of his work from behind a desk. He’s lame in both wings and a leg, and couldn’t keep up with you physically.”

“Then who is your Head Steward’s-”

“Direct subordinate? That would’ve been the Executive Steward. Kernel Ripples was approached about the job, but… she declined rather vocally.” Celestia groaned in what sounded like disappointment. “Ms. Ripples was rather outspoken about certain changes the castle is going through.” Something about the tone implied that Luna was the heart of said changes. “More’s the pity; she came from a line of exceptional stewards.”

“Past tense?”

“Oh yes. Snowy talked to me about dismissing her.”

Pause. “You said yes.”

“No, no - that would’ve been heavy-hoofed. I suggested she be reassigned, and now she’s filling an administrative position in my school. Oh, and on the subject of which, the castle hasn’t had a Governess since I founded the school, so there’s no point in asking for her as your hoofservant.”

Luna nickered. “Who’s next down in the stewards?”

“There’s a couple on that level. Besides the Head Night St-”

“Absolutely not,” Luna snapped, a bit too quickly to be graceful. It drew a chuckle out of her sister. “How about the Executive’s assistant?”

“No good. The Deputy Steward is middle management. She can follow orders and she can give orders, but Snowy tells me that she’s horrendous when it comes to solving problems on her own.”

“Then…” Luna’s pacing restarted. “Who else?”

“Well… unless you want somepony in the kitchen staff or a groundskeeper,” Celestia chided, “I can’t think of many other ponies you’d be interested in. There certainly are none better than your current hoofservant.”

“Oh?”

“Oh.”

“I can think of one.”

So could Nightlight, and he would’ve bet his bottom bit that both he and the Lunar Goddess had the same pony in mind.

“While he would serve you to the best of his abilities,” Celestia admitted cautiously, “your current hoofservant will serve you better.”

“Well, if you can give me a single reason…”

“I could give you five,” she asserted.

Princess Luna sounded almost as skeptical as Nightlight felt. “Is that so?”

“But there’s only one that really matters, so I won’t waste my time with the others.”

“Go ahead.”

Celestia’s answer was whispered so faintly, Nightlight could barely hear it. He wasn’t sure if he was meant to hear it. “Devotion.”

“Eh?”

“Devotion,” she repeated, more confidently. “Nightlight will be - no, he is, more devoted to you than Snowy Slopes could ever be. That’s-”

The younger alicorn interrupted with a remarkably level tone considering the accusation that: “You’re cheating.”

“Luna, I wasn’t finished, I-”

The Moon Princess started raising her voice, slowly becoming louder and louder. “Cheating. If you ordered him to be my hoofservant, he would be-”

“He would only be doing it because I commanded him,” Celestia countered, sounding even more cross than her younger sister. “He would follow your orders, but he’d always be thinking of mine first.”

“He’d follow my orders nonetheless.”

“But he wouldn’t be committed to you.”

“He’d be fine.”

“He wouldn’t, and you know it!”

“But-”

Celestia’s tone became much colder. “Sister, you-”

“If you just-”

The Royal Pony Sisters’ crescendo reached a peak, with the elder openly yelling. “Sister, Snowy Slopes was born and bred for his position! It goes back all the way through his family – his father was my steward, his grandmother was my steward, his great-grandmother was my steward! He’s spent his entire life training to be and serving as my chief steward! Don’t you see the problem with him suddenly being assigned to you?”

Luna’s voice went cold as ice. “You don’t want to give him up?”

Her sister’s chill did nothing to cool the Sun Goddess’ temper. “I would give him to you gladly! Gladly, Luna, if he were the servant you needed! But he isn’t! You need a hoofservant who will put you first and foremost, and after a lifetime of service to me, that’s something Snowy could never do! And even if he could, after decades of absolute allegiance, shift his loyalty completely and utterly to you, you don’t want such a fickle hoofservant!”

Celestia’s final comment seemed to hang in the air, defying the overwhelming gravity of the situation. Silence reigned for a long moment before either of the sisters spoke again.

Luna finally replied, her tone less than graceful. “Just because your steward would be less… dedicated,” she emphasized bitterly, “does not mean he would be a worse-”

An almighty stamp resonated from within, silencing Luna and making Nightlight’s bones shake. “That’s it! I can see that I’m not going to get through to you. You’re free to make your own decisions, but I must go.” The sound of hoofsteps began, signaling Celestia’s impending departure. Click-click click-click.

“But you said that you’d-”

“Always make time to talk with you, yes, but you don’t want to talk right now, Lu - you want to argue.” Celestia nickered in overt frustration. Click-click click-click. “I have duties to attend to, and I don’t have the time to argue pointlessly.” The hoofsteps became louder, more poignant, as if the pony making them intended they be noticed. Click click click click.

Luna almost sounded petulant, throwing her sister’s words back, “I wasn’t finished, Tia, I-”

“Well I am.” Click click. Click click. “Have a good morning.” Click. Click. Click. Click.

Click. Cl-

‘Oh buck.’

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

“And then I just ran,” he admitted, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “I could hear her coming towards the door, and I just barely got out of sight before she opened it. And um, then I left and came here. Um… sorry. And thank you.”

The pale yellow unicorn, the first half of Nightlight’s audience, put down her teacup as he concluded. “It’s no problem at all, Nighty. You’re always welcome to visit." His oldest sister was the first pony he thought to speak with when he had a problem. He’d have gone to her last night (‘No: two nights ago,’), if she hadn’t been working at the time. She was thoughtful and patient, and always thought of other ponies before herself, sometimes to her own detriment. Case in point, he’d practically broken down her apartment’s front door, actually woken her up in the middle of the day, and barged into her living room. But here she was, calmly listening to his problems despite having work later in the evening. And she didn’t even look angry.

The other half of the audience, however, was a good deal less tender. “Are you finished now?” the mare asked impatiently, mulberry eyes more than half-lidded.

She was also a good deal less intended. “Yes, but remind me again what you’re doing here?”

Berry Punch ignored the question in its entirety, stretching unabashedly on the couch and rolling over to face away from them. Brightlight answered in her stead. “She was planning on going back to Ponyville yesterday, but Red… convinced her to stay a couple more days. You know how Red is.” Nightlight nodded, understanding what his oldest sister meant. “Of course, Berry didn’t have a place to stay for the additional time, and things being what they are…” she trailed off, implicatively.

The whole family knew how things were when Red tried to bring home a guest. “Mom got upset about it.”

“Mom got upset about it,” Bright affirmed, sliding a hoof through her short-trimmed mane and changing the subject. “But I don’t think our family troubles compare to, well, you were saying that the Royal Sisters were-”

Nightlight couldn’t help but interject. “Princess Luna has returned, Equestria as we know it is tumbling down, everypony in the motherbucking castle is making my life impossible, I got Stared, and you’re interested in the Princesses’ private affairs?” One look at his sister’s face and he immediately began to regret his words. She was, after all, trying to help him. “I mean… it’s just… what am I supposed to do?”

A gentle smile returned to her face and Bright’s tone became soothing. “I understand,” she assured. “What you’ve experienced in the last two days is enormous, and honestly, you’re right.”

He’d spent so much of the last two days wrong that it was hard to imagine being right about anything. “About what?”

Her shrug somehow conveyed nonchalance and self-depreciation simultaneously. “You’re right. We really should be more concerned with practical matters like employment or our family instead of frivolous things like bridle gossip.” Well… it wasn’t exactly what he meant, but Bright had a way of interpreting other ponies’ words in the best possible light, and he wasn’t wont to correct her. “And the Stare. That’s rather… how to say? It’s-” Brightlight hesitated, chewing on her lower lip as she searched for the evading words. After much deliberation she lamely settled on the fact that, “It’s interesting.”

“I suppose that was more eloquent in your head?” mumbled their half-awake guest.

If he’d been less caught up in his own problems, Nightlight would’ve been legitimately concerned at the pout on his sister’s face; as things stood he hardly noticed the false humor in her response. “Yes, actually, it was. Do you have anything you want to contribute, or would you like us to take this conversation someplace else?”

Berry flipped onto her other side with a grunt, facing the rest of the room but not deigning to rise. She looked bored, more than anything. “Oh, yes. I have several, actually. To you,” she addressed her hostess, “you were actually right on the first thing. If two goddesses are arguing with each other, it’s possibly more important than just about anything in Equestria. You shouldn’t let your brother guilt you like he just did.” She gave the bewildered Nightlight an uninterested once-over before admitting, “Although I doubt he intended it. Nonetheless, he needs somepony to give him sound advice, not to just tell him that everything will be okay.” She yawned and returned to a more dignified sitting position while her audience stood with mouths agape.

She then turned her attention to the dark-coated unicorn that had ultimately woken her up. “And you. Hyperbole much? ‘Equestria as we know it is tumbling down?’ Only if you read the tabloids. The nobles and the newspapers are in a tizzy, but we don’t exactly have riots in the streets just yet. The sun still rises and sets and rises again. Ponies go about their jobs. I mean, sure, things’ll change, but this is Princess Luna who’s returned, not Nightmare Moon. Don’t worry; everything will be okay.”

“But you just said-”

“Tch. I mean Equestria will be fine, not you.” Berry nickered unreadably. “You’re in for it. I want to start drowning my sorrows just thinking about it.”

“Yes, because that really makes me feel better. Thanks,” he responded with as much angry sarcasm as he could muster. “Have you ever-”

“Get over yourself!” Berry practically screamed, thumping a hoof into the plush couch. “Stop with the ‘woe is me’ attitude and the ‘I didn’t have a chance’ mentality. Sure, you got a raw deal! Yes, Luna’s been treating you like a cherryrag!” At some point in the middle, Bright tried to make herself heard, but her statement was overwhelmed by Berry’s charismatic (and more significantly, loud) enunciations. “Hay, the whole castle’s been walking all over you! So why the buck are you bending over and taking it like a depraved gelding? Pony up and do something about it!”

“But-”

“Nightlight: Stop. Think. Act.” Her words were punctuated individually, stressing each furiously. “You’ve spent the last night or two getting plotted. What are you going to do about that?”

“Umm...” He turned to his sister, the pony to whom he’d actually intended to talk. “What do you-”

Before Nightlight could finish his question or his sister could respond with her opinion, Berry jumped down the young unicorn’s throat. “NO! Don’t ask others what you need to do! Think for yourself. What do you think you should do?”

“I, I don’t know...” Nightlight meandered over to a squat recliner and sat down. “I should... quit, right?” His sister gestured in the background, as if the statement was a personal victory for her.

“Are you saying that because it’s what you think, or because it’s what she thinks?” Berry nudged a hoof in Brightlight’s direction. “Because of all the ponies that halfway matter, I think she’s the only one that wants you to quit.”

“False. Everypony wants me to quit.”

Berry Punch rolled her dark eyes. “Did you even hear the story you told your sister? Princess Celestia doesn’t want you to quit. In fact, she told you to come back before tonight. Did anypony countermand that?”

No, technically not. “But Luna-”

“Hasn’t ordered you away yet,” the mulberry mare interjected. “So the only pony left that really matters... is you. What do you want to do?”

He shook his mane fiercely. “I want to quit. In fact, I’ve already quit. My job’s over, I talked to the Head Steward, and I’ve filled out the paperwo- ugh. Ponyfeathers.” Nothing in bureaucracy was official until the paperwork was complete. His wasn’t. “It doesn’t matter. I want to quit. I will.”

“I don’t believe you. And honestly? I don’t think you even want to quit.” She rose physically from the sofa, marching right in front of the chair Nightlight was sitting in as she spoke. “Because if that were the case, you would’ve come here looking for a place to stay, not advice. You came here because you needed somepony to convince you that quitting was the right choice, and you knew your sister would do that.”

“That’s a load of horseapples. Back me up-” Sometime in the midst of the conversation, his sister had slunk out of the room, leaving Nightlight and Berry Punch alone.

The earth pony was less distracted by this detail than he; she just continued her speech. “Oh really? Because I think Celestia was right. You’re not just dedicated to Luna, you’re downright devoted.”

If Berry hadn’t been so in-his-face about the matter, Nightlight’s laughter might have been less sarcastic. “Sure. And that’s why I’ve been trying to quit this entire time,” he snapped back, beginning to increase in volume. “It’s why I ran to Downtown Canterlot while on duty my first night, and why I nearly wet myself every time She looks in my direction!”

“It is!” she shouted back, only a foot away. “You’re embarrassed because you haven’t lived up to her demands, and you run away because you’re ashamed of your shortcomings! You’re trying to quit because you think she deserves a better servant than you! You’re afraid of her because you’re afraid of failing her!”

“I-”

“And you’re right! She’s a goddess, for Goddess’ sake! She deserves perfection, and you’re not perfect, nopony is, so if you’re not afraid of bucking something up, you’re doing something wrong! The real question is: what other option do you have? Does anypony have? Princess Celestia asserts you’re the best choice for the job. Do you think she’s wrong?”

“That’s…”

“Let’s pretend she is: maybe you’re not the best pony for the job. The fact still remains that you’re the only pony for the job. Even if they find a replacement for you by tonight, she’ll be no better than you. Until another option comes along, you’ve got no choice but to get it together and persevere.”

“But-”

“But that’s all moot! Even if you don’t realize it, even if your sister doesn’t realize it, or Princess Luna doesn’t realize it, Celestia realizes it and I realize it. For some impossible, stupid reason, you’re still committed to Luna. She’s demanding the impossible of you! Why haven’t you done anything about it? Why haven’t you given her a piece of your mind? Why haven’t you just bucked her in the face and told her what for?”

He finally managed to get off a sentence, screaming at the top of his lungs. “You can’t do that to a princess!”

“And the fact that you think so is proof! You’re not even angry at her; you’re angry at yourself, because you’re not perfect! Think about it!”

He thought about it. And maybe she was right.

In the meantime, Berry Punch got off her hind hooves and meandered back to the sofa she’d previously occupied. She draped herself across it with a yawn as she continued. “Let me tell you what I think: you-”

“No.” The word slid from Nightlight’s lips unintended, but it felt... right. “Like you said, I need to think for myself.”

The mare shrugged and rolled over, the faintest of grins on her face as she tried returning to sleep. Nightlight just sat and thought.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

“Nighty? Are you okay?”

He was getting up to leave when his sister cantered through the doorway, clutching a bottle of griffon alcohol in her telekinesis and staring at him worriedly. “Uhh, yeah. What’s up?”

Brightlight answered with an uncharacteristically exasperated sigh. “I could ask you the same thing. I step out for a moment, and when I get back you’re leaving without so much as a good-bye?” One awkward pause later, Brightlight detected the inherent irony of her statement. “Of course, I was coming back, and it’s not like I was gone that long, so…” Another awkward pause. “Ehh, Red told me that when Berry gets… weird, or I think she said ‘ornery,’ actually, she’s just sober.” More quiet. “But now I’m back and we can-”

“No. I just have to go,” Nightlight interrupted, shaking his head. “I’ll see you around... maybe soon.”

She shook her head even more vigorously in response. “No, don’t go. Look, I’m back, and you need to talk about this some more. You shouldn’t-”

Nightlight never found out what he shouldn’t do. “Let him,” demanded (a surprisingly alert) Berry Punch from the living room couch. “He’s made his decision. Let him do what he has to do and- and is that Everclaw?”

Mouth agape, Brightlight watched her little brother trot past her, into the streets, and towards Canterlot Castle. Dark coat against white stone, he looked as out of place as always. “I love you, Nighty. Be safe,” she whispered, too quiet for anypony to hear.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” asked Brightlight, concern evident in her voice.

“Tch. Donchu worry,” her guest answered drunkenly. The bottle of Everclaw, almost more empty than full, made its way once more to Berry’s lips. “Heesmakin’ a choice, an’ that means he’s makin’ the right one..”

Scowling hard, and not just on account of her guest’s slurring, Brighlight asked, “And how do you imagine that?”

Berry Punch raised a hoof in the air solemnly before responding, “Those that are strong ought to bear the infirmities of the weak, and not to please ourselves.” Her brief flash of sobriety was cut short by a pair of hiccups. “Or themselfs, razzer, ‘cuz I’m not a strong pony. But him, heesgotta reali- realishe- realy-” she stumbled, “to learn as he’sh a shtrong’r pony than hethinks, methinks.

She raised an eyebrow inquisitively. “This is my brother we’re talking about?”

“Yeh. An’ so he’s figurin’ tha’ heese gotta help others as needit. And sumtimesh, eben the princessess…esses need some, some help.”

At the risk of sounding like her sister, Brightlight had no choice but to assert that, “Berry… either you’re too drunk, or you’re not drunk enough.”

An Unfinished Conversation

The Moon is a Harsh Mistress
by NavyPony

Intermission One:
An Unfinished Conversation

Luna almost sounded petulant, throwing her sister’s words back, “I wasn’t finished, Tia, I-”

“Well I am.” Princess Celestia took another couple steps towards the door, extra loud so that her sister’s hoofservant mighttake the hint. “Have a good morning.” She marched the rest of the way, and began to wrap her magic around the ornate double doors. ‘With any luck,’ she hoped, ‘the young stallion’s made his exit.’

She never found out, as her younger sister applied a smattering of countermagic to keep the doors shut. “Tia, allow me to finish. Please?” Maybe… that timbre wasn’t petulance. Maybe it was worry? “I… I did not mean to make you angry, Tia. I’m sorry. But will you please let me finish?”

Acquiescence wasn’t her only option – she had every right to storm out of the room. Or at least exit haughtily. She was the Sun Princess after all, and she really did have important business to which she had to attend. ‘But...’ Even if she had every right to be angry, even though she’d tried to be reasonable several times now, she couldn’t just walk out. This was her co-sovereign, and more importantly, it was her sister. Taking a calming breath, Celestia stepped away from the doors and turned back to hear out the Moon Princess. She acquiesced. “Go on.” Of course, she was still irritated.

“I’m… sorry, Tia,” Luna repeated, moving towards her bed with a gait as weak as her voice. “I shouldn’t be acting like this. It’s just… nothing feels right anymore. Maybe it’s how much Equestria’s changed. I don’t know,” she said, collapsing onto her sheets and beginning to discard her silver shoes. She kicked them off the edge of her bed one-by-one, each landing with a tinny clatter. “And that just makes it worse.”

Celestia gave an internal sigh and her centuries of soothing, mentoring, and especially her politicking kicked into action; it was practically a reflex. “Oh? I think you’ve been managing...” It was hard to think of a word that was both positive and honest. “As well as can be expected, perhaps.” Luna was trying to grapple with a thousand years of magical research, technological advancement, bureaucratic expansion, and societal evolution. From amniomorphics to microwaves, from the tax code to capitalism, it was a thousand years of progress. “You’re doing great.”

Luna didn’t see things the same way, pursing her lips in disagreement. “No. No I haven’t. You’ve made that quite clear.”

“Hush now, Lu,” Celestia cooed, trying to soothe the younger alicorn, “You’ve just had a couple of…” she waved a hoof vaguely, looking for a good word, “... minor difficulties. You’ll learn from your mistakes, and we’ll address them. Fix them. Things will get better, I promise.”

“Tch.” Luna’s body language dripped of skepticism. “You always say that…”

“Of course,” she joked, trying to assuage her sister’s dismay. “That’s because I’m always right.”

Celestia’s words’ had the opposite of their intended effect. “Precisely…” the darker pony groaned, flicking her tiara across the room with a burst of cobalt magic. “I, as ever, err, and it falls upon you to make things right. The first night I reassumed my duties, the moon was late…”

‘It’s not that big of a deal,’ she lamented internally. ‘Not that she’d be willing to hear such a thing.’ The younger sister was ever a perfectionist when it came to her responsibilities, and Celestia needed some other way of minimizing the incident. “It’s understandable, Lu. Nopony-”

“No, it’s not,” the Lunar Princess reasserted. “It’s unforgivable; I can’t do anything right. Everypony’s mad at me or afraid of me. I don’t even know how to behave around my own servants. And when you try to tell me what to do, I just get mad about it.

“No, no,” Celestia cooed, still struggling to defuse the situation. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do. I just want to-”

“But you should!” she interrupted, shouting. “I need you to keep looking out for me, like you’ve always done, and I keep forgetting it, like always, because… Actually, I don’t even know why.” She interrupted herself with a self-deprecating tsk and an angry shake of her head. “Maybe if I’d listened to you all those years ago, I’d never have become Nightm-”

Absolutely not. “Princess Luna,” Celestia thundered, cutting her sister off entirely. “You stop right there.”

Luna’s expression went entirely blank for a moment, as if surprised her sister could still use the Royal Voice. Wide-eyed and barely audible, she started back up, “Tia, I-”

“No.”

The younger princess’ eyes began to well with moisture. “But-”

“No!” the Sun Princess bellowed again, once more cutting off her sister. “We have already spoken about this at length, and we agreed that it was as much my fault as yours. You are not Nightmare Moon, and you never will be again. Nightmare Moon is finished. All of that is finished and, and…” And Celestia’s voice caught in her throat at the sight before her, at the realization of what she was doing and more significantly, its effect. ‘Oh no. No no no. Please no.’ Luna’s face was wrenched in anguish. Her shoulders were hunched, her normally flowing mane was limp, and her eyes were shut tight. ‘Please no. Don’t cry.’ Centuries of experience seemed to vanish - Celestia realized that she didn’t know what to do.

She was lost, and it was a thoroughly unpleasant experience. “Lu?” she eventually croaked, her previously robust voice cracking. “Lulu, I’m sorry. Please stop crying.” Sympathetic tears started forming in response to those streaming down her sister’s face. “Please? I, I-”

She spoke two words. Two little words. “Go away.”

For the first time in decades, the Sun Goddess found herself speechless.

“Go. Away.” Luna rolled over on her oversized bed, refusing to look her sister in the eye. “You have important work to do, you said. Go do it,” she uttered. “Or not, I don’t care. Just go away.”

“But…”

She snapped. “Yes, you’re right, you’re always right!” Luna hollered, still facing the wall, “I’ll keep him as my hoofservant! I’ll stop Staring ponies! I’ll do whatever you want, just go away, please!”

“I’m sorry.” Celestia bowed her head to the floor in regret as she crossed once more to the room’s exit. This conversation had gone wrong, totally wrong. She gave one last look about the room, one last glance at her sister’s trembling frame, before closing the doors behind her. ‘All I want, Lu, is for you to forgive yourself.’

She was a third of the way back to the throne room when Snowy Slopes finally intercepted her, stepping out of a side passage with the same clipboard and stony expression he always carried. “Your Highness,” he pronounced stoically, falling into his customary position behind her, “is there something I can do?”

‘Perceptive as ever, Snowy...’ The Head Steward was aware enough to know that something was amiss, concerned enough to offer help, and subtle enough not to impugn. And he was there to support her when she needed it. “You can listen...”

To Try Again

The Moon is a Harsh Mistress
by NavyPony

Chapter Six:
To Try Again

It was ninety-eight minutes until moonrise, and it was a very unusual evening.

A pair of charcoal-coated Royal Guards, both members of the Unicorn Corps to boot, flanked the double doors he was approaching. Their presence didn’t bother him in the slightest – there were bigger things on his mind. In fact, he wouldn’t actually have given them a second thought had one not moved when he arrived, because that was weird. These were supposed to be the crème-de-la-crème of the Guard – the best of the best, with honors. They were the ones entrusted with the most dangerous of missions. They could literally tear others to shreds just by thinking about it. The right-hoof guardspony trembled when Nightlight arrived.

It wasn’t overt – hardly a shiver, really, and if it had been any other pony it wouldn’t have meant anything. It was only their normally perfect stillness that made it noticeable. Here were ponies that had faced off against hydras and ursae, who could bombard their enemies with magic swords and telekinetic salvos, whose very cutie marks symbolized victory and courage, and who were among the most respected members of the Royal Guard. And on the other hoof, here was he: most famous for a hoofnote in a textbook that nopony probably read, armed only with his illumination spells, his flank marked with a lightbulb, and just a night steward. He wasn’t even a full steward, for that matter. Dark coat notwithstanding, he paled in comparison to the guards before him. A pony in his horseshoes would have had to be verifiably insane to face something that made the Unicorn Corps shake in fear and not be afraid himself.

Nightlight was quite proud of the fact that he was not insane, but it didn’t make him any happier about his position. Strictly speaking, it probably made things worse, because insanity would have been a great excuse to run away and never come back. ‘Not that some ponies wouldn’t cite sanity as a great reason to do the same thing.’ In the last forty-eight hours, it had become common knowledge throughout the castle that the most dangerous and frightening thing in all of Canterlot, if not all of Equestria, was Princess Luna. And as far as every servant in the castle was concerned, Nightlight was just preparing to make things worse: he was going to wake her up.

It was ninety-seven minutes until moonrise, and for all of its déjà vu, it was a very unusual evening.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

It had started off as strangely as any day in his life, and just slid downhill from there. To start it off, he’d been woken up by an irate Moon Goddess, gotten Stared, regained consciousness as an automaton talking to the Sun Goddess, ended up eavesdropping on an argument between Equestria’s immortal rulers, left the castle in the middle of the day, happed across the alcoholic paramour of one of his sisters, at the house of a different of his sisters, and been convinced by said paramour to go back to a job he’d officially quit. So when he got back in the early afternoon and tried to cram in a couple hours of sleep before his duties began, irony could only permit one pony to wake him up.

“Noo~oon Na~ap…” Nightlight groaned, holding back the more colorful names he was making up for the Secondary Night Steward. “Go awa~ay… ‘f I don’ getsome sleep b’fore tonight… I- just… something. I’ve still got… Uggh.” Checking the clock at his bedside was too much effort. ‘Besides, I set the alarm and it hasn’t gone off yet. Hopefully.’ Sleeping through his alarm would be just what he needed right now. “What time is it?”

“Somepony’s eloquent this evening.” Noon Nap always followed his snarks with a scoff, as if other ponies weren’t smart enough to recognize his sarcasm; this one was so pronounced it made his poofy mane jiggle. “And for the record, it’s, hold on… three thirty, not that it matters. Time to get up.”

“Still got… fifty minutes,” he muttered futilely, rolling over to face his pillow. “Sleep inertia… Object at rest… Stays at rest…”

“That’s ‘stays at rest, sir’, and that’s too bad. Quill says I’m supposed to get you for something important – a special assignment, I think…” He cocked his head oddly, as if the scene might have seemed familiar to him, too, but his moment of prescience passed just as quickly as it came. Without further ado he returned to his usual and belligerent self. “Between you screwing stuff up and me getting in trouble, I’ll take the former every day of the week.” The sky-blue pegasus took ahold of Nightlight’s mattress before launching himself into the air, flipping the mattress over and unceremoniously dumping his subordinate into a drowsy puddle. “And twice on Sundays. Rise and shine, bucko!”

Nightlight was tempted to stay under his heap of pillows, blankets, mattress, and seething rage, but as far as he could see, there wasn’t a point. With an angry whicker and his best imitation of Princess Luna’s scowl, he rose from the pile of bedding (taking the anger with him) and marched to this wing’s nearest bathrooms. “It’s not Sunday…”

“Ahem?” The smug pegasus didn’t even feign a cough – he actually said the word ‘ahem’.

“It’s not Sunday… sir.”

After brushing his teeth, a long-overdue shower, a leisurely brushing of his mane and tail, and getting a coffee from the nearest common room (the most important part of today’s routine, given his lack of sleep), Nightlight bored of his passive-aggressive resistance. Also, he burned through the easy ploys to make his boss wait on him, but that was only a secondary concern. ‘Only secondary. Right.’ He finally followed the prickly pegasus to the Night Stewards’ Office, but he didn’t even approach the hurried pace his flustered boss was urging; his alarm clock had been scheduled to go off for another ten minutes.

Nightlight soon found that he wasn’t being summoned by Star Quill for a ‘special assignment’, because once he arrived at the Night Stewards’ Office, the Primary Night Steward led him across the castle to an office that was much more regal and much less closet-like. It made the young steward feel bad about wasting so much time; he’d thought this whole… whatever it was, was taking place on Star Quill’s initiative (she was not present), but instead the summons were Snowy Slopes’ personal orders.

The old steward was seated in the comfortable chair on the other side of his small desk, but instead of personal effects and photographs, almost every inch of it was deluged with official documents and notes. Not even the picture of Snowy standing beside Princess Celestia remained visible under the mess. ‘Give it another couple months, and it might get as crowded as the Night Stewards’ Office,’ the younger steward considered, trying to imagine such a scene made real. ‘Fewer bookshelves, more filing cabinets, and put some coffee stains on the- wait… Why does he get carpet in his office when we’re stuck with linoleum?’

If Slopes noticed Nightlight sizing up the mess in his office, his professionalism forbade showing it; he steepled his hooves on the desk’s least cluttered spot and began in a surprisingly soft tone. “Mister Nightlight, do you know why I’ve called you here?” asked the Head Steward.

“Well…” Unprepared, the younger pony said the first thing that came to his mind: the truth. “No,” he admitted. ‘Although I imagine it’ll be inconvenient, my luck being what it is.’ But cynicism aside, there was still no real choice – the word of the Head Steward was law in Castle Canterlot. “Honestly, sir, I’m a little bit surprised you knew I was here, what with our discussion last…” He had to think about it. Keeping track of what had happened when was made infinitely more difficult on account of the Stare. “Yesterday, I think it was?”

The hoary unicorn waved a hoof into the air and nodded firmly, dismissing the question entirely. “Yes, well, the Princ-, excuse me, Princess Celestia spoke with me this morning. It was concerning certain matters that have been weighing heavily on Her mind.” Snowy Slopes’ glare became colder and more focused, subtly adding ‘and those matters were you.’ Nightlight’s face blanched at the implication. “And when she learned of your prior resignation, she expressed even further distress about last night’s events…”

Nightlight had to repress a sigh at this point. This was an attempted guilt trip coupled with an appeal to his sense of duty. Snowy was going to explain that the Princ-, that is, Princess Celestia, would be quite distraught if he resigned his position, and wouldn’t he, if only to ease the already beleaguered mind of their (Co-)Sovereign, please consider returning to his post? And the funny thing about it? Even though he knew how Snowy was trying to manipulate him, and despite having already decided to stay (at least long enough to find a replacement), it was still effective. ‘Please, oh please, make it stop…’

“…spent more than a year working here, and I’m confident you understand that your role goes beyond the one defined in your job description. Above all, it is our duty to see that the Princess is- pardon, the Princesses, are able to…”

He’d have liked to interrupt here, really. Before here, actually. Stamping his hooves on the ground, creating a bright flash of light for dramatic effect, screaming and swearing… it’d have been appropriate considering how unfair a guilt trip like this was. ‘You deserve it. And it’d be fun, too,’ offered a particularly untrustworthy thought. ‘Besides… you don’t have time for this, do you?’ That last one, however, he had to agree with. There were things Nightlight should’ve been doing, so yes, he interrupted.

But not like that. Slowly, timidly, and above all else, deceptively, Nightlight raised a thin hoof into the air, the slow way a grade school foal might ask an embarrassing question or confess to not knowing an answer. The meekness was intended, but he was still interrupting Celestia’s right-hoof pony, and it certainly helped augment his performance.

It was not long before the pontificating steward noticed the frail hoof go up. “…which is to say that- Mister Nightlight?” Slopes asked, himself thrown off by the younger pony’s behavior. “Do you have a question?”

“No sir, it’s just… I had already decided to stay. For a while, at least,” Nightlight conceded cautiously. “And with all due respect,” and he meant that in the least sarcastic way possible, “I think you’re preaching to the choir, sir. Abandoning my post would be… disloyal, and I understand that. I wouldn’t have come back, and I wouldn’t still be here, if I didn’t agree with you.”

Snowy Slopes raised a bushy white eyebrow as the junior steward finished. “Oh? Well said, Mister Nightlight. Very well said indeed,” he declared. It was high praise coming from the Head Steward. “In that case…” He began shuffling through the clutter that was his desk. After a brief search, he pulled a series of antique tomes out from under his desk, closely followed by a thick portfolio of papers. They seemed vaguely familiar. “Aah, here we go. You’ll probably be wanting to keep these.”

It was Nightlight’s turn to raise an eyebrow, albeit one that was much less luxuriant than the senior steward’s. “Umm, sir?” he asked, indicating the intimidatingly large stack of manuscripts before him. “What are these?”

The older unicorn practically did a double take at the question. “Why, they’re the documents we went over two nights ago, when you got this job. And these,” he produced a trio of folders and a pair of oversized binders as he spoke, “are copies of the paperwork your assistant filed last night. Quite a prolific display, that was.”

“Assistant? Last night?” the dark pony echoed questioningly. “I get an assistant?”

“To be precise, the position is chief clerk,” Slopes responded, walking across his office to examine the contents of a dusty bookshelf. “But it more or less amounts to the same thing. We assigned her to the post last night, while we also tried addressing the recent... hmm, outflux of castle staff.”

“Funny, sir… I don’t remember having an assistant. Or clerk.” Or whatever. “Where is she?”

Snowy Slopes exhaled softly when he heard the question. “In a remarkable fit of irony,” he divulged, pulling several texts from his office’s shelves, “she joined the aforementioned outflux.”

“How… very typical, sir.”

“Yes, well, I suppose that would be a fair assessment.” Slopes scoffed, marching back to his desk with a small collection of books and placing them beside the already formidable stack of documents. He began shuffling the papers, binders, and now books together (presumably alphabetically) in a neat display of telekinesis while he continued. “Which is why I’m also giving you an additional volume or two that I think will help you in your duties. I expect you’ll want to peruse them, as well as the official paperwork here, at your leisure,” the stallion presumed aloud, floating it all across the desk to Nightlight.

“Leisure?” ‘Oh, that.’ “Yes, at my leisure. Naturally.” Trying to figure out when he’d next have free time (short answer: never), Nightlight wrapped his own magic around the proffered papers, transforming them into an amorphous heap in the process. “Thank you, sir.”

One of the other unicorn’s eyes gave an involuntary twitch as his carefully-organized stacks crumbled under the hold of Nightlight’s shoddy telekinesis. “Well, in that case,” he said, grimacing, “do you have any questions? Are you ready?”

“Umm, sir?” Trying to balance the mass of documents in the air, Nightlight was too distracted to really listen to what he was hearing. “Ready?”

Slopes just shook his head dismally. “Your first task: waking the Princess up.”

‘Oh. That.’ He was so not ready. “Yessir.”

And so after trudging back to his quarters, Nightlight dumped his freshly-acquired library in the middle of the floor and went to make his rounds. Or he would have, except his conversation with the Head Steward, what with Slopes’ longwindedness and Nightlight’s awkward silences, had taken rather longer than it should have. Without the opportunity to see the libraries, courts, kitchens (especially the kitchens), or any of the other places and ponies he’d intended to visit and speak with, all the anxious colt could do was pray to somepony that things went smoothly before heading out to wake Luna.

Considering to whom he was praying, the whole situation was rather ironic.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

He took a step towards the menacing-looking charcoal guards standing on either side of the doorway to the Princess’ chambers. They both knew who he was and what he was there for, but he said it anyways. “I’m Nightlight, the Assistant to the Secondary Night Steward, and Her Hoofservant. I’ve come to…” He faltered when he noticed the right-hoof guardspony tremble again. The reality of what he was doing came back all at once, and with an unpleasant bit a déjà vu. “Um… I’ve come to, to wake the Princess.”

In near-unison, the gold-barded guards nodded in salute and stepped to either side, quickly returning to almost-stillness. A bead of sweat dripped from the left guard’s chin. The one on the right subtly watched him magick open the towering mahogany doors. For his part, Nightlight just focused on putting one hoof in front of the other, and stepped slowly into the consuming darkness of Princess Luna’s chambers.

He cast his darkvision spell. This time he was focused. Nothing was going to distract him from his goal. ‘Nothing at all.’ He wasn’t going to waste time looking at the scenery – he was just going to march over to the Princess’ bed and wake Her up. He certainly wasn’t distracted by the stark contrast between this room and the rest of the castle, what with the hardwood floors and brick fireplace. The antique decorations and old-fashioned furniture definitely didn’t faze him. He didn’t even notice the curtained balcony, and completely ignored the alicorn sleeping in the four-posted bed which- ‘Wait, darn it, I’m actually supposed to notice that one.’ He took a controlled breath and pushed off his pretenses. ‘Apparently, pretending to be focused doesn’t help either.’ Oh well, it had been worth a shot. ‘Nothing lost.’

‘Except time. Now you’ve got…’ He glanced at the mantle, but even with his magically-enhanced eyes, he didn’t see the clock he’d remembered from the last time he was here. ‘Glue. How am I supposed to know how late I-’

‘Stop it, Night!’ he screamed in his head. ‘You won’t be late! You’ve bucked everything up so far, but this is your chance to get something right. You’re overdue for it. Just wake Her up. You’re ready.’

Then one of the problems from last time reared its ugly head. ‘How do you even wake a goddess up?’ He didn’t know. ‘You can’t just-’

Night took a deep breath and mentally chastised himself. ‘Stop psyching yourself out! You can do this!’ He could do this. ‘It’s your job!’ It was his job. ‘You’re ready!’

He was so not ready. ‘She’s going to snap awake and start screaming again. Then she’ll Stare me again, and scream at me some more. It’ll be like last time, except worse.’ Not for the first time, and not for the last time, Nightlight considered just walking away. He was afraid, and he wasn’t ready.

But he did it anyways. Instinctively tensing up to recoil, he spoke. “Umm, Princess Luna?” he asked, barely coming above a whisper. “Your Highness?”

Princess Luna, Mare of the Moon, Head of the Moon Court, First of the Selene Order, Co-Ruler of Equestria, and bearer of several titles both fearsome and unspeakable, awoke. Her eyes slid open, her ethereal mane lifted a couple inches higher, and she rose to a sitting position on her bed; she yawned loudly, stretched her forelegs, and flapped her wings a couple times for good measure. It was… ‘almost like a regular pony,’ Nightlight considered. ‘Except her size. And her mane. And being an alicorn. But aside from the physical differences she almost seems…’ He’d never have admitted it, but the word that came to mind was ‘normal’.

Then she noticed Nightlight, and he forgot all about that. “Hoofservant,” the ancient mare articulated coldly. “Thou art returned. Wherefore?”

“I-I… That…” He had to overcome the shivers running down his spine before he could pronounce a proper answer, and he genuinely hoped it was the proper answer, because it was the only one he had. “I, I am Your hoofservant, Your M-Majesty, and You… n-never, told me to leave.”

Luna’s visage went from cross to… maybe bemusement, or exasperation. ‘Or indignation?’ suggested Nightlight’s inner pessimist. Whatever it was, though, the trembling stallion didn’t imagine it might be good. He simply watched in fear, cold sweat beginning to drench his coat, as the Moon Princess rose to her hooves. She leapt gracefully to the floor, landing before Nightlight with a single beat of her large wings and an unsettling glare, and took one step forwards. His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates when it struck him: ‘Unless… what if She did tell me to leave? Maybe the reason I was trying to leave all of yesterday is because She told me to leave yesterday. Like when I was forced to speak with the Princ-, the other Princess. It’s like posthypnotic suggestion.’ He shrunk down about four inches as the thoughts played out. ‘Clop me. Oh Celestia, I wasn’t supposed to come back! Clop me, clop me with the moon! I should go back and tell Slopes that I was-’

“Very well,” Luna muttered dispassionately, yawning for a second time. “Retrieve Our coronet,” She commanded, stepping firmly into the ornate shoes at her bedside.

The sounds that came out of the steward’s mouth turned out very much like his thoughts – confused, namely. “Wuhh- *ahem* Y-your Highness?”

There was a slow moment as the alicorn turned to look at Nightlight, glaring at him in disbelief. “Our coronet. The Lunar Diadem.” She raised a silver-shod hoof, pointing it slowly at Nightl- no, no, pointing over his head and across the room. Lying against the wall was a plain tiara of pitch-black material, sized for a slightly smaller pony than Princess Luna. “Retrieve it.”

“Yes, Yo-”

“Now.”

This time Nightlight started moving before opening his mouth. “Y-Y-Yes, Y-Your H-H-Highness!” he stuttered, scurrying across the room as fast as his spindly legs would take him. At least she wasn’t quite yelling at him.

Luna wrenched the little tiara from his grasp as he approached and set it gently upon her head. “Tis apparent that thy backward priorities are maintained; it shouldst be thou that waits upon Us. Be thy behavior not contrariwise?” she uttered severely, not deigning to look at him as she adjusted her headdress. “Thou art… We understand the phrase to be ‘setting off on the wrong hoof’. Mayhaps it befits.”

Nightlight could only bow his head in apology; tonight was ending up suspiciously similar to his first evening as Lunar Hoofservant, and it had hardly started. ‘Well, it can only go up from here, right?’

He was wrong - not only could the evening have gone downhill from there, it did, although not in the way Nightlight would have expected. It was, after all, something of an unusual evening.

To start with, Princess Luna needed her circlet just so, and without a mirror in the room to assist her (‘Why was that thing never replaced?’) and her only observer too short to be of much assistance, situating the little tiara correctly was a matter of trial and error. It took nearly a dozen attempts to get it right, and every time she took it off because it was tilted, or wasn’t perfectly center-facing, or was sitting too far forwards, her mood would deteriorate further. When the two of them finally exited Her bedchamber, the Lunar Princess was downright livid, and was made especially terrifying by her atypical quiet. Nightlight didn’t have to call upon his experience to realize that she was ready to bite off the metaphorical head of the next pony to displease her. His experience did tell him, however, that said pony was going to be him.

Once again, he was wrong. When the Princess swung open the doors to Her chambers, the left sentinel, the trembler from earlier, jumped. It wasn’t any sort of a mere figure of speech, either – it wasn’t a twitch or a violent shudder, but a full-fledged hooves-off-the-ground scared-off-his-flank jump, and more significantly, it was something for Luna’s bubbling wrath to hone in on. One furious Old Equestrian tirade later, and the burly unicorn was fleeing from the scene, doing his best (and failing) to hold back tears.

She then did the same to the other guardspony, because he was the higher ranking of the ponies outside her door, and was therefore responsible for the trembler’s actions, and by allowing such a cowardly pony to stand watch outside Her Highness’ door the senior guard had failed both Her and Equestria, and was just as unfit for service in the Guard and the Unicorn Corps as his subordinate. Both the unicorn’s retreat and Her Highness’ rant made for impressive run-ons.

But there was still one pony in the hallway.

While it was unacceptable for her chambers to be unguarded, it was thoroughly intolerable for her sentinels to be lily-livered. Nightlight was to remedy the situation forthright while the princess… did something government-related. Nightlight wasn’t entirely sure what ‘attending to the royal constitution’ meant, but it seemed to be something that the princess intended to do on her own. In the meantime, Her hoofservant was to remedy the most recent problem before She broke fast.

So, with stuttered apologies and fearful assurances, the young stallion galloped off to the nearest guardhouse.

Canterlot Castle was proposed within a week of Nightmare Moon’s banishment, when Princess Celestia decided that she couldn’t stand to live in the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters – it reminded her too much of Luna. While construction only began several months later and it wasn’t completed for many years after that, the rightful government of Equestria was still on shaky ground during the planning phase of the castle. Social unrest had been at an all-time high, and the Lunar Rebellion was still a military threat. And of course, nopony – no loyal pony, wanted a repeat of the Rebellion. So everypony involved in the construction of the castle – advisors, architects, and even the artists, had one solution: guards. Canterlot Castle was to be filled with guards.

Of course, Nightlight didn’t know any of this. He had no clue why the oldest sections of the palace had so many guardsponies barracked in seemingly-random places. To him, it had simply meant more out-of-the-way places needing cleaning, more ponies that needed meals delivered at nights, and more broken furniture to replace, but for the first time in his life, he was thankful for it. Exactly two floors down and one hallway over was one such guardhouse, complete with dormitories, armory, and a very nervous on-duty guard.

The gold-barded earth pony looked young enough to still be in high school, and he sounded like it, too. “Sir or Ma’am,” the colt asked, voice cracking, “how can I help you, sir or ma’am?”

Nightlight didn’t think twice about the unusual mode of address as he rushed into the little foyer and up to the desk the on-duty guard stood behind. “Yes! Guards. I need a pair of guards. Immediately.”

The guard’s jaw dropped for a moment, faced with an out-of-breath stranger rushing onto his post with such an outrageous demand. “Umm… Sir or Ma’am, I don’t think that we can do that. We don’t just… give guards out. Unless you’re in danger? If you’d like, I can ask the sir about it tomorrow, but I don’t think-”

“No!” Nightlight interjected, still breathing hard from the run. “I, I need the guards for the Princess. Luna needs guards, not me. Outside Her room. I’m just getting them.”

“Umm… I’m pretty sure that there are already ponies assigned for that post. Sir or Ma’am.” The youthful guardspony pointed a hoof to a white board which dominated one of the small room’s walls. It was covered with a slew of numbers and letters which made minimal sense to Nightlight, but must’ve been perfectly intelligible to the young earth pony. “See? We’re only supposed to have that post between sunset and sunrise. The Unicorn Corps has it right now. You should probably go to guard house seven or thirteen and talk to-”

Visions of angry alicorns danced in his mind. “I don’t care,” Nightlight snapped, raising a hoof into the air. “This is the closest post to Her room, so it’s the one I came to. And it’s the Princess we’re talking about! Can’t you just… I don’t know, send someponies?”

“I… no? Sir or Ma’am, I’m just the Corporal of the Watch,” the guard admitted with an apologetic smirk. “I can’t change the watchbill like that. I don’t even think the sir can do that. Maybe the Officer of the Watch can, if it’s an emergency. But now… the Unicorn Corps has that post. We could get in big trouble for stepping on their hooves like that.”

Nightlight had to fight the urge to slam his own head into the floor. “But they’re not there right now! What about just a while? Can’t you… do… I don’t know – something? Even temporarily?”

“I… look. I’m just the Corporal of the Watch. All I do is make rounds and fill out the logbooks. That’s it. If it’s really important, I’m allowed to get the CDO – that’s the Company Duty Officer, I mean. Maybe he can help you.”

Now he had to fight the urge to slam his head into the guardspony in front of him rather than just the floor. “Of course it’s bucking important! We’re talking about the Princess, for crying out loud!” Nightlight shouted at the lone guard. “Just get somepony who can help me before-”

His plea turned out to be unnecessary when a dark-coated stallion swung open the door labeled ‘Armory’. He wasn’t wearing armor or insignia, but the way he carried himself suggested that he was a guardspony, and more importantly, that he got things done. Stopping in the doorway, the well-muscled earth pony examined the scene before him with a critical eye. “What’s with all the yelling? What’s going on here, Focale?” he asked, his gaze settling upon the younger guard.

Focale, as the young corporal was evidently named, tried unsuccessfully to explain the situation. “Sir? It’s um, this pony – the servant, that uh… well, he – or she, I mean, arrived in spaces-” the stuttering stallion referenced his books, “-about ninety seconds ago. And I was filling out the logs. And then-”

The room’s most recent arrival rolled his eyes and addressed Nightlight instead. “You then – Lunar Hoofservant? What’s going on?”

Nightlight just shrugged helplessly. “There are no guards outside Princess Luna’s room and- wait, how-”

“Guard-s?” the larger stallion interjected, emphasizing the plurality of the word. “Could it be just one?”

“I don’t…” It was something the unicorn hadn’t ever considered. ‘Surely Princess Luna wants two guards outside her chambers – not just one.’ Nightlight had never seen a lone guard until two nights ago. Guards came in pairs. It was a fact. Like gravity. But… “One guard’s better than, none, I guess.”

“Very well.” The large guard reached a hoof back through the armory’s doorway and without deigning to look, retrieved an entire suit of barding. He began to don it with practiced ease, cinching and buckling straps and snaps in a blur.

In the meantime, the Corporal of the Watch managed to pick his jaw off the floor. “But, sir?” The younger earth pony motioned towards the same white board he’d just shown to Nightlight. “Sir, we don’t have the post until sunset. It’s the Corps right now, and-”

“Think about the big picture, Focale,” the larger guard lectured. “It’s not the unicorns who have the post – it’s the Royal Guard that has the post, and we are part of the Royal Guard. Ergo, it is our duty to see that the post is filled. This is more important than politics,” he concluded, snugging his pauldrons into place. “Let’s go, Hoofservant.”

“But, umm… Sir? This isn’t your watch.” He pointed to the white board. Again. “And if your gear leaves spaces, I’m technically supposed to check it out in the logs, and the Captain won’t be happy if she finds out about it, you know.” A vague strain of hesitancy entered the younger guard’s voice. “I mean… should I…”

“Do what’s right and cover your flank, Focale – sign my stuff out. After all,” he said with a forced chuckle, “what’s she going to do? Strip my commission?” The lieutenant rammed a golden helmet onto his head with a snort and marched out. “Come on, Hoofservant. Let’s go.”

‘Something went right. Something finally went right.’ Nightlight couldn’t keep the grin off his face or the skip out of his step while he cantered back to Luna’s chambers with his austere companion. The guardspony noticed. “You seem happy,” he mumbled, clinking along in his armor. “I suppose today’s going better than Monday night was?”

“Oh definitely. It’s been loads better than- Hold on, I met you on Monday?” Nightlight gave the guard a thorough look over only to remember a tenth of a second later that some ninety-nine percent of guards looked more or less the same to his eyes. After the coat color, race, and gender, few ponies looked too closely at a guard, and Nightlight was no exception. “I… spoke to several guards that night… could you, uh, refresh my memory?”

The other pony was unoffended by the forgetfulness, rolling his shoulders in a casual shrug. Casual for a guard, at least. “Ah. Technically it was Tuesday morning; you were running around the castle like a chicken with its head cut off - pretending to search for Her, actually searching for Her, and all that with the mirror? Honestly, I’m kind of surprised you lasted that night, let alone came back for more.”

“You were the guard outside Her room, weren’t you? The one who-”

“The one whose partner ran away while on watch? That’s me.” If Nightlight had been less caught up in his own affairs he might’ve heard the hint of bitterness in the larger stallion’s voice.

Of course, he might not have – reading other ponies’ emotions was not the young steward’s forte. “Actually, I was going to say ‘the one who actually helped me instead of arguing with me or making my night more difficult’. But your answer works too, I suppose.”

“It does.”

Nightlight decided to take the earth pony’s word. “Changing the subject then… can I ask you something?”

“Ignoring the obvious fact that you just did, yes, as long as it doesn’t take too long,” the guardspony muttered back. “We’re more than halfway to Her room, and I’m not going to make small talk with you once we get there – to talk to nopony except in line of duty, and all that.” He nodded in a self-affirming manner. “But until then, ask away.”

“Okay, why are you helping me like this? I mean… like I said, you’re the only one.”

The guard snorted roughly before responding. “Why I’m helping you? Because it’s the right thing to do; I’m a guard, and Her Highness needs a guard outside Her chambers. It’s more than enough of a reason.” He spoke like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and Nightlight liked it. “But the question you’re trying to ask - that I think you’re trying to ask? It’s because my job description hasn’t changed in the last two days, and that makes things pretty easy for me.”

“That…” Nightlight was going to lie and say that the guardspony’s words made sense (the second half, at least), but he thought better of it halfway through. “That’s why you’re helping me?”

“It’d be more accurate to say that it’s why nopony else is,” the guard replied, a slightly exasperated edge to his voice. “But I suppose it’s very much the same thing. Either way, they don’t understand the difference between their job and their responsibilities. It’s just that- you know what? Don’t worry about it; I’m sure you’ll figure something out, and I’m not about to explain it.”

“Why not?”

“Because I left my soapbox in the guardhouse, for one. Also…” He nudged his head forwards with a blasé sigh, drawing attention to the large mahogany doors which had just come into sight. “We’re here, and I don’t really have the time. So unless you have anything I can answer quickly…”

He did, actually. “What’s your name?”

The dark earth pony looked at him like this was the most alien question he’d ever heard, before finally answering. “Midwatch,” he eventually declared, taking one of the usual positions in front of Luna’s door. “First Lieutenant Midwatch, Royal Guard.”

Worming Midwatch’s name out of him seemed like an achievement of sorts; the younger pony’s visage brightened slightly as he introduced himself in return. “I’m-”

“You’re the Lunar Hoofservant,” the officer interrupted sharply, his tone making Nightlight’s good spirits very short-lived. “And you’re not a very good one, I imagine. Don’t you have anything better to do than listen to an irritable guard lecture?”

“That…” The young pony’s thoughts snapped from shock to anger to unhappy revelation as he saw the truth of Midwatch’s words. “Uggh… clop it, you’re right. I, I have to go. I have to go and… and… I don’t know.” As usual, he began to panic. “Oh buck, I don’t know what to do next. How long did it take to get you? What time is it?” He started turning circles, looking over his shoulder. “Why don’t I see a clock? How am I supposed to know when-”

Lieutenant Midwatch chomped down on Nightlight’s lengthy tail, stopping his spinning. “I thtold you lathtime,” he slurred around a mouthful of pale yellow hair. “There’th no clock. Naw, if you’ll jutht cawlm down…” He spat Nightlight’s tail out. “It’ll be easier for you to figure out what to do next. You’ll find it’s easier to think straight when you’re not spinning in circles. Or prancing in place,” he added as the steward began shifting his weight from hoof-to-hoof anxiously. “Look, just calm down and think about it. What were you doing at this time yesterday?”

“No, I… No clue,” he said with a shrug, shaking his head. “I don’t remember.”

Suppressing a nicker, the guardspony just stared. Whether or not he believed the statement, he had enough level-headedness not to address the issue. Or else he simply didn’t care. “Monday, then. What were you doing this time on Monday?”

He looked back in his memory. ‘Wow, but that seems like forever ago. I had to wake Her up and… the moon was late.’ He shivered involuntarily at the thought. ‘Because I didn’t know where we were supposed to be going on the way back from…’ The answer was obvious. “Ah. Breakfast.”

Midwatch nodded gravely and opened his mouth, and Nightlight never heard what he said – the unicorn was already halfway down the corridor and turning down a staircase with a cry of, “Thank you!”

Left alone in the passageway, the gold-barded pony finally took up the eerie stillness which somehow came naturally to guards. “Don’t mention it.”

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

“Hoofservant,” She whispered, voice darker than the hue of Her coat, “thou needst not declare ignorance when the misease of thine deportment declares it so loudly. Being a conduct unbefitting one of Our retainers, ‘tis embarrassing to both thee and Us. For such reason, remedy thy failings sooner than pronounce them to the whole of Equestria,” she concluded, lips pursed thinly. “Dost thou understand?”

“I… I think s-,” Her gaze stopped him. ‘I think so,’ was not an appropriate response for a servant. “I mean, yes, Your Highness.” Nightlight’s eyes slid from left to right, once more taking in the otherwise-empty hallway. What were the chances that he’d run into the Princess on the way to the dining hall? ‘Low,’ he decided. What were the chances that Luna would notice the pony behind her before Nightlight even saw the flickerings of her spectral tail? ‘I don’t even know. She’s an alicorn.’ And what were the chances that he’d screw something up the moment he opened his mouth? ‘Pretty bucking high.’ She’d asked what the menu was this evening, and given how much time Mr. Slopes had taken from him this evening, Nightlight didn’t know – he hadn’t had time to visit the kitchens before waking the Princess.

But despite the validity of his excuses, Princess Luna considered them just that: excuses. “Then We inquire once more: what sort of board is drawn for Us this eve?”

“I’ll… I’ll find out, Your Highness,” he whispered, eyes glued to the floor. “I’ll, umm, head there now.” The young stallion bowed deeply, prostrating himself as She resumed her path to the Royal Dining Hall. “Is, is there anything else, Your Highness?”

Luna did not stop her march while answering, but if Nightlight could’ve seen her face he might’ve noticed a fresh emotion in her eyes. “Yes, actually.” Her timbre of voice sounded unique to her steward’s ears, as if she asking herself why she hadn’t spoken of this earlier. “As thou shouldst be aware, hitherto have We found displeasure with the selection of Our fare. See to it that Our sup is appropriate for breaking fast.”

In point of fact, Nightlight was very much unaware that- ‘Actually, no.’ He did remember there being a problem with that on his first night. Or that morning, rather. She’d wanted something savory that morning, instead of the sweet foods prepared. And by extension… “Of… of course, Princess. You just woke up. You want breakfast foods,” he affirmed. “I’ll… I’ll get on that right away.” He galloped past her towards the kitchens, intent on doing just that.

He wouldn’t have called the kitchens ‘chaos’, but that was because Nightlight recognized the turbulent movement as the rushed work of ponies fighting a deadline instead of the frenzy of confused amateurs. The half dozen or so chefs preparing the princesses’ evening meal scurried about with furious purpose, whisking ingredients from pantry to cutting board to pan to pot to oven in flurries of telekinesis and wings. They were like machines, moving with superpony precision and unnatural vigor, so absorbed in their efforts to make a perfect meal that they seemed to ignore everything unrelated to their tasks at hoof. So engrossed were they, that nopony looked twice at the dark-coated steward except to keep from running into him.

“Ala Mode! Mister Mode, where are you?” Nightlight shouted above the din of clinking utensils, humming appliances, and the mostly incomprehensible words hollered by the busy ponies running about the kitchen. He couldn’t see the pale green stallion anywhere. “Where’s the Head Chef? Has anypony seen Head Chef Mode? Hello? Does anypony hear me? Is anypony listening?!”

Only one pony answered, and it didn’t have the snooty accent of the pony Nightlight was trying to find. “Hear you? Sure, everypony, probably,” announced a demure, androgynous voice. “But listening? Uh… probably not. Listening is… it’s a lot complexer than hearing. Complexerer? That’s not right. It’s more complexer,” the disembodied voice decided with a long yawn. “Anyways, nopony’s listening. Unless you’re listening to yourself, I suppose. Are you?”

The laidback way the pony spoke struck a very specific chord in Nightlight’s memory. “Harvest Moon?” he called, scanning the kitchens for the unicorn he’d met two days prior. “If you’re answering me then you’re listening! Where are you?”

“I’m, hmm… here, I guess. Wherever here is.” The pony spoke hazily, too quietly for Nightlight to pinpoint through the kitchen’s hubbub. “But that’s not important right now. Instead, you should know that I talk in my sleep. I’m probably asleep right now.”

“Whuh? How, precisely, is that more important than the fact that you don’t know where you are? Where are you?”

“Because I’m probably not listening to you, and just so happen to be saying things that make sense in the context of everything you’re saying. Or maybe I’m a butterfly dreaming that I’m a pony who’s talking in her sleep. Or a pony dreaming that…” She yawned once more. “Hey, maybe you’re a butterfly, dreaming that you’re a pony stuck in some sort of cosmic comedy.”

“I’m not a butterfly!” Nightlight hissed vehemently. “I’m a pony in the castle kitchens, looking for-”

“Where in the castle’s kitchens are you?”

“Huh? What does that have to do with anything?”

“Lots,” the mare murmured. “Like, if you’re looking for food, you need to look near the refrigerators, the pantries, or the cellars, not near the appliances or utensil storage areas. Likewise, if you’re looking for someplace to sleep, you should be looking in cabinets that aren’t normally used, assuming you don’t mind tight spaces. Cellars and pantries sound like nice places to nap, but they’re so busy that you can’t get more than five minutes without somepony walking in, and refrigerators… refrigerators are right out.”

Nightlight couldn’t decide whether or not the mare’s words were intentional in their unhelpfulness, or even if it really mattered. ‘But speaking of places a pony would sleep in the kitchens…’ There might’ve been something to that. “Uhh… hold on. Are than any good spots near the…” Nightlight didn’t know the kitchens well enough to describe his location without looking about. “Near a row of sinks and a large ice machine? There’re a couple cutting boards by the ice machine, and some large pots hanging above one of the sinks.”

“Sure. The sink furthest from that ice machine is out of order because somepony took the pipes out from underneath it and clogged up the drain. Also, it might be full of old tablecloths and other comfortable things that nopony cares about,” Harvest Moon explained lethargically. “Why? Aren’t you too busy to be taking naps right now?”

“Aren’t you?” the young stallion quipped in return, yanking open the doors to the mentioned cabinets with a splash of telekinesis and a scowl. Nightlight wasn’t at all shocked when a midnight blue mare with a wavy red mane and half-lidded eyes tumbled from beneath the sink, but the same couldn’t be said when he saw the score or two of potatoes that fell out with her. “Filled with comfortable things, you said?”

She had to squint against the sudden brightness, but the Lunar Chef’s absentminded tone was entirely unaffected by her sudden appearance. “Nopony’s ever told me I wasn’t, so I like to assume that I’m comf- Oh, look: you found me. I told you I was here,” she commented absently, a faraway smile on her thin lips. “What’s up, Mister Hoofservant?”

“Mister? Harvest Moon that’s… you know, I don’t have time for that discussion right now. I need to check on the Princess’ dinner – or breakfast, or…” Nightlight didn’t really know if there was a proper name for the meal you eat after waking up at night, so he was forced to settle on, “Whatever.”

The Lunar Chef was already beginning to gather the dozens of potatoes that littered the nearby floor, picking them up in her mouth and hauling them back to her little cabinet. “Weh, Ah’m naht thtawpin’ yah-” The one she’d been trying to carry slipped from her grip as she spoke, rolling a couple yards and under the nearby ice machine. “Fillyfeathers,” she swore, chasing after it. “I don’t think I can reach.”

Nightlight did his best to ignore the mare’s awkwardness as she tried reaching under the large appliance with her forehooves. “Umm… Can you tell me where the Head Chef is?” he asked, using his magic to pull the now dust-coated potato out from where it had rolled.

“Yeah, sure,” she hummed, returning to her task.

It took Nightlight rather longer than it should have to realize that his question had technically been answered, nevermind his intention. “Uh, Harvest Moon? I’m in a hurry; I really need to find out what they’re cooking for the Princess.”

Not a beat was missed. “Pot-roasted turnip with apple and raisin gravy, stuffed tomatoes, an alfalfa and mint salad with raspberry dressing, and deviled quail eggs. Say, why do you suppose they call them ‘deviled’ when- Hey. You’re looking kind of funny. Funnier than usual, I mean. But not that usual is usually funny, so it’s probably not a good phrase. Anyways, are you okay? Mister Hoofservant?”

Nightlight mentally slapped himself. He’d wasted however long searching for the Head Chef when Harvest Moon- no, probably everypony in the kitchen, could’ve answered his question, and he hadn’t even thought to ask them because… “I’m so stupid.”

She stopped mid-stride, cocking her head to the side when she heard this. “Really? Because you don’t look stupid – just funny. And nauseous, I guess. More nauseous than funny. Hey, do you want a bucket? There’s one under the- actually, just use the sink, maybe. Use that one, and on the side with the garbage disposal. It’s industrial strength, you know; I once saw it choppa-choppa through eight knives, six forks, and a spoon in one go, and…”

Nightlight ignored the other unicorn and her speech – there was a more important issue at hoof than his suddenly-realized foolishness or the strength of the kitchen’s garbage disposals: Luna’s meal. “Harvest Moon?” the stallion called, “I need you to cook something for me.”

While the Lunar Chef apparently found the garbage disposal a fascinating device, the consideration thereof seemed to pale in comparison to the prospect of cooking something – her face brightened considerably at Nightlight’s entreaty. “Oh, sure. I mean, hunger’s like the opposite of nausea, but I guess I sometimes mix them up. Anyways, just so you know, there aren’t any big turnips left. If you want some of those, you’ll have to have the leftovers from-”

There was obviously a misunderstanding – Nightlight might’ve been hungry, but the food wasn’t for him. ‘Nor is it supposed to be turnips or tomatoes.’ Those things, after all, were the problem. “No. Breakfast food, please. Princess Luna wants breakf-” Harvest Moon’s face fell just the way an imploding building collapsed upon itself; Nightlight had forgotten the effect Luna’s name had caused on Monday. “Buck.”

“I told you the other day: I’m not allowed to cook for the Princess. Or the other Princess,” she added. “The whole ‘I’m not allowed to cook for the Princess’ rule is important. It’s even more important than ‘don’t switch to peanut butter when you run out of the non-peanutty kind,’ and that’s saying something,” she bemoaned, the sound of personal experience coloring her voice. “Look, if the Head Chef ever found out, I’d get fired, and even though he sometimes says he wants to fire me and doesn’t mean it, this time he would mean it. I’m not allowed to cook for the Princess,” she repeated, her voice atypically emphatic. “It’s the rule.”

Nightlight could hardly form words at the sheer stupidity of the situation. Harvest Moon was supposed to be Luna’s personal chef, and yet… she wouldn’t/shouldn’t/couldn’t cook for Her. “Isn’t it your job to make food for the Princess? Please, what’s more important than the Princess?”

“No~othing,” she moaned back, shaking her head and mane in a slow, oscillating rhythm. “And that’s why I’m not allowed to cook for Her. There’s the whole ‘breaking rules makes other ponies get food poisoning’ thing, and I would get in so much trouble if She got sick because of me. Or if She got sick because of anypony else, too. That’s how it works.”

‘Déjà vu, no?’ And the night had almost seemed like it was starting to turn around, too.

“Look,” Harvest Moon finally sighed, “I want to. You’re being nice, and the Princess wants food, and I like making food, and those are all things, but I’m not allowed to cook anything for Her. I can make whatever I want for any of the regular dumb-type nobles, or for me, or you, or other servants, or even those guards with weak constitutions, but I’m-”

Nightlight was somewhere between panicking and going to fix Her Highness a bowl of cereal when inspiration struck him like a dropped piano. “Say that again.”

“What, the guards? Some of their constitutions are really bad; it’s like they just rolled di-”

“No, before that.” The mare was still refusing to cook for the Moon Princess, but… “You can cook for me?”

“Sure,” she mumbled whimsically, cocking her head to the side without changing her expression. “But you didn’t want any last time. You said it was ‘unique,’ I think. I remember because that was a much nicer way of describing my recipes than usual, although that might just be because that one actually turned out really well, and maybe you could tell. It was almost as good as I was imagining when I added the strawberry bits, and that might not’ve been the best touch. Do you like str-”

“No, Harvest, go back,” he pleaded. “If you were to cook something for me… I could do whatever I wanted with it without you getting in trouble, right?”

“Unless it made you sick, and then you told somepony I made you sick. Hey, on the subject of which…”

“No, but I could eat it myself, or save it for later… or even share it with somepony else? As long as it was originally intended for me?”

“Sure. Wait, no, not quite. You couldn’t share it with sompony else if they don’t want you to share it with them…” she said, seeming unconscious of Nightlight’s intentions. “Unless you tie them up and make them eat it, I suppose, but then they wouldn’t be your friends anymore. Unless your friends like being tied up, which I suppose is possible. Why? Have you changed your mind about that linguini I fixed on Monday? You might like it. In fact, your friends might even it, even if they’re not into being tie-”

Nightlight interrupted her with a wave of his hoof. “Actually, no, thank you,” he declared, speaking quickly but with a calmness that surprised him. “I want breakfast food, please.”

“That’s the same thing that Princess Luna wants, isn’t it? You… hmm… breakfast food… for dinner…” The mare narrowed her large eyes in what might’ve been suspicion, but she drifted off into her own thoughts before Nightlight could imagine an excuse, and she left the sentence to start another. “I like that idea. It’s fun. Breakfast, like… oatmeaI, flavored with pineapple and brown sugar and bean sprouts, and… I think we have truffles and some plums leftover. Or, ooh…” she thought aloud, her eyes not focusing on anything in particular. “I could fix crepes if you’re willing to wait. With mushrooms and juniper. I probably like crepes, so you probably do, too. How soon do you want it?”

“Uhh, soon? As quickly as possible, please.” He took a glance around the kitchen. The other cooks were scurrying about to complete the evening’s meal, and they seemed frightfully close to finishing – one was carving an enormous (and delicious-looking) turnip in the middle of the kitchen, and several others were garnishing a tray of stuffed tomatoes. Nightlight saw no signs of any sort of salad, but that sort of thing didn’t take long. “Can you fix something good before they have to bring out the Princess’ breakfast? Something sweet?”

She smiled. “Eggs and toast it is.”

Perhaps the term meant something different to all of the castle’s chefs, or maybe it was just Harvest Moon, but the resulting product was hardly what Nightlight imagined when he thought of the kind of breakfast described by ‘eggs and toast’. The bread was glazed with vanilla, coconut, cream, and cayenne pepper before being toasted, and instead of using an actual toaster, she tossed them into a nearby oven (still hot from the night’s dinner). The eggs were even odder. There were four omelets, all prepared simultaneously over different burners, and all of them with their own unique fillings.

‘Unique’, of course, tended to be the operant word when Harvest Moon fixed anything, but the eggs and toast were nonetheless quick to make. Within some ten minutes of cookery, the mare had prepared a meal that looked remarkably apt for a royal breakfast, complete with a garnish of orange wedges and a glass of milk. But even more impressive, perhaps, was that she never seemed rushed while she made it. If Nightlight hadn’t known better, the mare’s calmness would’ve fooled him into thinking the whole meal easy enough to make himself.

“And… hmm, I suppose that’ll have to do,” the Lunar Chef announced around the spatula in her mouth, sliding her eyes lazily about the kitchen. “I don’t think I have time to make any more before-”

“Harvey? Harvey!” A serious-looking pegasus with a square-face and a crossed fork and knife for a cutie mark approached. By all appearances, she was either ignorant of or oblivious to Nightlight’s presence. “Let’s go! Table time’s in seven minutes, and we’ve gotta go now or we’ll risk being late, and- and are you cooking something?”

“Omelets,” Harvest responded, smiling with the same lethargic expression she’d maintained while cooking. “Would you like to try some? I made them alphabetically.”

The way the other chef rolled her eyes made it clear that Harvest Moon’s current behavior was entirely typical. “There’s not time, Harvey, we’ve got to go. Grab one of those trays. And you,” she said, addressing Nightlight with a contemptuous glare. “Get out of here. Whoever you are, you can go to the cafeteria for food like everypony else. You’re wasting Harvest Moon’s time, right now. She’s the Lunar Chef, you know, and she’s got a job to do.” The square-faced chef completed her sentence with a harrumph that was only missing Ala Mode’s snooty accent. She pulled Harvest Moon towards the stacks of food intended for the princesses, and out of the kitchen.

The rest of the servants ignored Nightlight to the point that he might as well have been alone, and that was perfectly satisfactory in his mind. Blatantly ignored by the rest of the kitchen staff, he dashed away, clutching Princess Luna’s meal in his telekinesis and hoping to find her before he was too late.

It was almost becoming a regular event.

Déjà vu aside, this evening turned out slightly different than his first night as Lunar Hoofservant. For once he knew, really knew, where the Princess was going to be, and could get to Her with just enough time to spare.

Unfortunately, the evening wasn’t that different from the one he remembered. Something came up. “Mister Nightlight?” Snowy Slopes stepped out of the dining hall and into the doorway, cutting him off from his goal. “A word, if you have a moment? It’s important.”

The young steward bit his lower lip to keep from grimacing –he’d beaten the kitchens’ procession here, but that was only because they’d been walking and he’d ran. If this conversation took more than a couple moments, he was going to be late. ‘But you can’t brush off the Snowy Slopes.’ The word of the Head Steward, after all, was law in Castle Canterlot. “Uhh… sir?” he asked, flicking his eyes between the other unicorn and the just-out-of-reach dining hall. Nightlight could actually see his mistress, exchanging words across the table with her older sister. “That’s fine, but, uhh… will this take long?”

“No, of course not,” Slopes stated, his visage as stoic as ever. “I just need to know when you’ll be available during the day tomorrow – it’ll take an hour, maybe one and a half. It doesn’t matter if you don’t know now, just give me word sometime before sunrise, and I’ll work it out.”

“Tomorrow… in the day?” Nightlight didn’t know if he was more distraught by the prospect of daytime-work or the events taking place in the dining hall – he could see a small procession of chefs entering through one of the side doors, all carrying trays of turnip, tomatoes, and the other components of the princesses’ evening meal. “The timing of this is kind of… poor, sir.”

“I realize that may be the case, but we have no choice in the matter – it’s not starting before sunrise, and the matter shouldn’t be put off later than tomorrow.” The other unicorn stated, nodding his head in a sort of perfunctory apology. “It’s serious.”

‘Which makes serious the word of the day,’ Nightlight supposed, becoming more and more anxious about the scene playing out behind Snowy Slopes – just fifteen yards away. Harvest Moon and that square-faced pegasus chef had begun taking covered dishes from the other chefs and were carrying them in their mouths to the Royal Pony Sisters’ table. “Yessir,” he whispered, wrenching his gaze back to Slopes for a second. “It’s that important?"

The Head Steward seemed to interpret it as a question. “Of course, Mister Nightlight. I believe I mentioned the matter of the castle’s employment difficulties over the last two days? It was only an hour or so past.”

“Yeah.” Nightlight could only watch helplessly as the Lunar Chef lifted the lid from a platter in the dining room with a pallid little flourish. To describe Luna as displeased would’ve been an understatement. “Funny how much longer it seems like it’s been.”

“Well as of-” He stopped midsentence, deep furrows across his brow. “Mister Nightlight, you seem distracted.” Snowy Slopes looked from Nightlight to the levitating tray of breakfast foods, to the dining hall over his shoulder, once more to the omelets and toast, and finally back to Nightlight. The only thing that rivaled the speed of his realization might’ve been his astonishment at it. “That’s not…”

“It is.” Just like the last time, he was late.

Being a steward for however many years he’d worked in Canterlot had dulled neither Slopes’ wits nor his reflexes, and he collected himself faster than a colt a third of his age could have – Nightlight, for instance. “Galloping goddesses! Don’t just stand around, get out there!” With uncharacteristically coarse language and a telekinetic shove which spoke volumes about the older stallion’s magical prowess, he slid Nightlight through the open doorway and into the dining hall, not letting up until the younger steward was literally at Luna’s side. By some divine measure of luck, Nightlight maintained both his footing and his grip on the princess’ food throughout the entire trip, and he immediately found himself looking up at his frowning sovereign. But even more disturbing than landing next to an obviously angry goddess (and doing it belatedly, to boot), was the fact that she paid him less attention than he did to his middle sister’s bedfellows.

The only pony receiving any attention from the Lunar Princess was the one presenting Her food, and neither of them looked pleased about the course of events. The way Harvest Moon winced under Luna’s gaze was enough to make Nightlight’s stomach clench in sympathy – that glare was normally reserved for him, he thought. In fact, it probably is meant for me.’

Which meant there was only one thing to do. ‘Probably.’ Nightlight acted before he could start second guessing himself. “Eh, Your Highness?” he said, his voice just loud enough to draw Her attention. “I’m… afraid there’s been a mistake. May I speak to you?”

“We see quite clearly that a ‘mistake’ has been made, hoofservant. ‘Tis unnecessary testimony, and a waste of Our time. Be there anything that actually needs speaking?” she asked quietly, turning so slowly that her mane stayed suspended in the same spot it had already been floating. “Or shalt thou further waste the time that We might spend with Our beloved sister?”

Nightlight gulped once, twice, and slid the platter of omelets and toast onto Luna’s end of the dining table, hiding his face in his mane as he did so. “Your, umm… I b-brought your meal, Your Majesty. It’s… an assortment of omelets, you see. Apples and asparagus, blackberries and brie, cream cheese with currants, a-and the last one is dandelions and… um, potatoes of some sort? Also, cayenne-praline toast.” He slid the dishes wherever they would fit on the table, and the creases around Her mouth melted ever-so-slightly as he did so. “Th-there was a, a sort of a mix-up in the kitchens, and I uhh… sincerely apologize. And…” And he wanted to change the subject – Luna’s face may have softened, but it was still more of a scowl than a smile. “Would you like me to take the rest of this back?”

It worked. “Do so, but chastise Our chef about the failing.”

He swept up the various dishes in his telekinesis while the chefs that had laid them down exited quietly. Honorable mention went to Harvest Moon, who’d slunk out of the room as soon as Nightlight had drawn the princess’ attention. “Shall I speak to her now, Your Highness?”

Luna sniffed indifferently. “If it suits. Thou might see freely to whatsoever pleases, barring that which deprives Us. But own affairs or not, meet Us at the Astral Dais prior to the rising of Our Moon,” she muttered, levitating a nearby fork and testing the consistency of the ‘B’ omelet. It was must’ve been satisfactory, because She didn’t comment on it. “However, thou art forewarned: be not late.”

Gulping mightily at the familiar words, Nightlight left, and he was all too glad to do so. Balancing the many dishes of Luna’s original meal with his magic (and with some difficulty), he crossed to the far side the dining hall, running as fast as he could without looking like he was running. It was a steward skill, and one he was particularly good at.

Nightlight’s running-walk didn’t compare to the techniques of the senior staff, and it showed. Despite exiting the dining hall on the complete opposite side he’d entered from, he found the Head Steward waiting to intercept him. The older stallion had circumnavigated the chamber without ever placing a hoof inside, and furthermore (and quite unfairly), he didn’t even look winded.

The procession of chefs having already made their way through the narrow servants’ passage, Nightlight found himself alone but for one stony-faced Snowy Slopes. “Mister Nightlight? I believe that I must speak with you about what just occurred.”

One ignored the Head Steward about as much as one simply walked into Tartarus. Nightlight halted midstride with a well-contained sigh. “Yessir?”

And that wasn’t good enough. “What? No. No.” The elder pony ran a wrinkled hoof through his thick mane, upsetting the appearance of imperturbability he usually maintained. “That’s the problem: you just dropped everything that you were doing when I asked for a moment of your time. Keep walking, and I’ll follow.”

Some of the gears in Nightlight’s head started whirring freely when he heard this, but it was an order. He started back up, trotting slowly towards the kitchens with Snowy Slopes, the Snowy Slopes, following him. It ought to have been the other way around. “Sir?” he asked, asking himself if the pace was too slow. “What do you mean?”

“Just now. You were hurried, and I sidetracked you,” Slopes said, his tone genuinely pained. “Why did you not ask me to hold off? Even momentarily? I would have gladly waited, had I realized the haste of your task, but you allowed me to continue. It…” The hoary stallion was struck momentarily speechless, shaking his mane in frustration as he trotted along. “Why?”

“Because.” There was more in this word than Nightlight could say. Because he’d been trained to do so. Because Slopes was not just his superior, but the superior. Because that’s how stewards were expected to behave. Because that conversation was supposed to be quick. Because he couldn’t say ‘no’. Because he couldn’t forget that until a few nights ago, Slopes was the second most powerful pony in Equestria. Because Slopes should’ve known if it had been worth waiting. And because so many other things. But all Nightlight could admit was, “You said it was important.”

“Yes Mister Nightlight, what I had to say, and still have to say, is important. But I not so important that you had to drop everything indiscriminately. What you were doing was urgent, and that sometimes takes precedence.”

“You said that your thing was urgent, too,” Nightlight mumbled in self-defense.

“Relatively speaking, yes, but not that urgent. I need an answer from you in the next twelve hours; taking four minutes from that sort of time frame doesn’t matter, but what you were doing… those four minutes become significant. Besides, I didn’t even say such a thing until after you’d stopped and started asking questions about it and-” The senior steward interrupted himself with a deep, calming breath and a resigned chuckle. “You know, when I remind myself of the reasons you were chosen for this position, I sometimes forget the reasons you weren’t. I really don’t know who to blame for this, I suppose.”

“Sir?” Nightlight stopped in his tracks and turned to face the hoary steward in the eyes.

“I guess that answers it,” he said with a tired sigh, tone more bitter than anything else. “Mister Nightlight, what are you doing right now? Do you have any urgent business before sunset? Anything at all that you need to do?”

He considered it before responding, “Umm, no. Luna wants me to talk to the chef about the meal…” Which was kind of bucked up, on account of it not being Harvest’s fault. He had no clue what he was going to say or how he was going to say it, but it was an order, nevertheless. Still… “I can do that later, I think. I was just going to return these.” He cast a simple illumination spell on the half dozen plates he was levitating – shaking them would make him more likely to drop them. “Why?”

“I was just wondering,” spoke Snowy Slopes with a curiously raised eyebrow, “when’s the last time you’ve eaten?”

Nightlight’s stomach answered loudly enough for three ponies.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

After several weeks of intense debate, the Equestrian Senate would eventually pass a resolution, decrying ‘The Glorious Star Keep of Our Illustrious Goddess’ be renamed ‘The Glorious Star Keep of Our Illustrious Goddesses’, and at outlandish cost to the taxpayers. Committees had to be formed and overtime had to be paid, with researchers and historians and various subject experts all called upon and reimbursed for their time. Pamphlets and maps would be updated, letters of declaration mailed, and textbooks would be revised. It would cost tens of thousands of bits, and it would still continue to be known as ‘Tall Tower’. Such was bureaucracy.

This waste, however exorbitant, didn’t matter in the slightest to Nightlight, on account of how bucking delicious he found the stuffed tomatoes. Snowy Slopes didn’t look concerned by the expenses, either. Such was the pot-roasted turnip.

The two of them were currently the only ponies in the Tall Tower, occupying a cozy room in the second highest floor, one which the Day Staff ostensibly kept furnished for occasions such as this. Now, what Slopes called, “Passing the time,” most junior servants called ‘Hurrying up to wait,’ but it amounted to very much the same thing, and in this case it was rather comfortable. The room had a low table, a sofa, enough cushions to seat several ponies (or to form a makeshift bed, if the sofa wasn’t up to par), and cabinets filled with everything from writing supplies to expensive tea to mane care supplies. There was more furniture in here than could easily fit in the Night Stewards’ office, and of the eight or nine similar rooms throughout the castle, Slopes explained with a casual air, this was one of the smallest. “It’s rather rarely used, to be honest. I hadn’t been up here for several months prior to this week.”

Between a mouthful of stuffed tomatoes, the only sound Nightlight could form was “Bwuh?” It was followed quickly by a swallow. “What do you mean, sir?”

“Well, it’s irrelevant, you see. Her Highn- I mean, Their Highnesses, don’t need to be here to raise or lower the sun or moon, you know. I understand it was once a longstanding tradition, but Princess Celestia moved away from it ages ago. Until Princess Luna returned, we hadn’t used the Astral Dais except for the occasional ceremony and some official functions. I was last up here when some griffon emissaries came to visit, and before that for a solar eclipse,” the Head Steward explained as he helped himself to another slice of roasted turnip. He then prompted Nightlight to do the same. “Have another. Hungry ponies make poor decisions, and you don’t always know the next time you’ll get the chance to eat.” Slopes took a deep drink of tea. “Sleeping’s much the same way.”

Nightlight tried filing this amongst the collection of advice Slopes had given him in the last twenty minutes, only to find it all blurring together. Between guidance on how to weigh importance and urgency against each other, what to bring to the Princess’ attention and what to resolve oneself, how to be the best servant possible, what sort of tasks merited delegation, and so many other things that composed servanthood, everything became a single suggestion: do everything right. The worst part was that almost every word out of Slopes’ mouth was painfully obvious, but they were still things that Nightlight didn’t think of. It was downright painful.

“Anyways, it won’t be long before Princesses arrive,” the pale stallion continued, appearing to be supernaturally aware of the time. “We should get back to the subject I was speaking about before...” he waved a forehoof evocatively. “Before this whole issue came up.

“Yessir?”

“I mentioned the castle’s employment issues.”

“Oh, yes. The, umm…” Nightlight racked his brain, tapping a hoof against the cold floor. “The ‘recent outflux’ you called. But what does that have to do with tomorrow during the day?”

“Well, as of some thirty minutes ago, Miss Starry Shine has joined that outflux, and it seems that neither I, nor anypony to whom she’ll listen, can convince her otherwise.”

“Uhh… Starry Shine?” The name rang no bells, and the younger steward made no attempts to conceal it. “Should I know her?”

“She was the Princ- excuse me, Princess Luna’s, Chief Chambermaid – a middling-greyish unicorn with a pink mane. It was styled much like yours, I believe. You should have met her last night. Anyways, I asked the young mare to speak with you before resigning, but she refused rather adamantly. It was something about you being, well…” Slopes face became tightened in concentration, totally ignorant of the shocked look now plastered over Nightlight’s own. “I wouldn’t place much stock in it; the mare was rather distraught, and wasn’t saying kind things about anypony in particular. Anyways, she’s no longer on staff.”

Nightlight winced. “Bad things about me?”

“About everypony, Mister Nightlight. But she quit.”

“Oh…kay. That’s…” ‘Bucking great,’ was the way he wanted to say it, but that kind of vulgarity wouldn’t do in front of Slopes – it wasn’t the Head Steward’s fault that Nightlight had been Stared and forgotten last night, and getting upset wouldn’t help the situation. Nightlight swallowed down his sarcasm and tried to finish with a word that wasn’t disrespectful. “That’s bad.”

“Quite, and especially because of the gap it’s left in our roster. You see, it is the unfortunate and shared opinion of myself, Missus Quill, and Miss Sweep – she’s the First Maid, in case you’ve forgotten – that the Castle Staff lacks a suitable long-term replacement.” The Head Steward, Primary Night Steward, and First Maid were all about as disparate as a trio of ponies could possibly be, which meant if they agreed on anything, it was the truth. “Furthermore, even if we had somepony with the requisite skillset, we’re having enough trouble finding personnel willing to take on the position, even in a temporary fashion. We’ve resorted to offering double and even triple pay for these duties, and we’re still having maids opt out.”

Nightlight choked on his tea in a combination of outrage and, shamefully enough, jealousy. “R-really, sir?” Nightlight didn’t think he was receiving hazard pay, and being the Princess’ chambermaid was certainly easier than being Her steward. “They’re getting hazard pay?”

“That is what the maids are calling it,” Slopes answered, his expression darkening as he rose from his position. He rose to exit the room, motioning for Nightlight to follow him. “And finances aside, it’s one of the reasons this needs to be rectified. So, we have interviews going all day, but I can have the pertinent ones ordered however is most convenient for you – when is best?”

“I-Interviews? Pertinent?” he questioned with a shake of his head, walking behind Slopes as they ascended the tower’s spiral stairs. “Sir, I’m confused. What are we talking about?”

“Job interviews, Mister Nightlight. Do you recall Monday night, when I said that Missus Quill and I were preparing to expand the night staff?” Nightlight didn’t, but he didn’t have time to answer before Slopes continued. “Well the preparation is finished, and the actual ‘expansion’ is starting tomorrow. I sent word to the closest towns that Castle Staff is hiring qualified ponies, and interviews begin tomorrow. With all the new posts that need to be created, combined with our recent retention problems, there are numerous positions that need filling.”

“And?” Nightlight thought interviews might’ve been fun, but he was tired and still had a whole night ahead. “I don’t see how this applies to me, sir.”

“Well, you’re the Lunar Hoofservant, and it would behoove you to be present,” he pronounced, returning to his classically stoic tone. “Considering the close proximity you’ll have to many of the ponies we’ll be hiring tomorrow, as well as the unique familiarity you have with Princess Luna and Her needs and desires, I think you should be present, if only for the senior-most positions – Starry Shine’s replacement, some additions to the Night Stewards, and perhaps a political aide. You should also be looking for a new Chief Clerk amongst them, considering you’re now lacking an assistant. My having chosen the previous one might’ve been… overly presumptuous of me. It’s important you have a strong rapport with those working for you.”

“I suppose that-”

An unmistakable, bold voice interrupted Nightlight’s hushed reply. “...shouldst be evident. See to it that Our message is relayed to the Royal Bookkeepers, that such tomes art ready for perusal this eve!” Princess Luna’s voice reverberated through the stairwell with dangerous volume. “Go!”

The sound of a panicked pony’s galloping echoed only half as loudly as the Royal Canterlot Voice, but it was still enough to cover a whispered comment from Slopes. “I suppose that’s our cue,” he uttered with practiced calm and picked up the pace slightly. “Come, we should get there before They do.”

The servants arrived first, but they did not have long to wait. After only a couple minutes, the Royal Pony Sisters climbed the last stair, and it was not much longer before the doors were wrapped in the pastel glow of Celestia’s telekinesis. “… not nearly as fun as it sounds, Lu. It’s not that I don’t want the best for you, it’s just that I don’t want you stuck with my mistakes, and trust me: there’ve been a lot of them.”

“While I recognize and appreciate your concern, sister, you must understand my position on the matter,” Luna replied from a couple steps back, tone cool. “I think it is my decision. Unless you think my choices are a danger to others-”

“Of course that’s not the case, Lu. It’s a complete nonissue,” Celestia snipped back, marching into the chamber with an informality which was almost unbecoming of a goddess. She stored towards the tower’s open balcony, while the younger of the sisters took up a position further back, closer to Nightlight and Slopes. “I’m just worried about what you’re getting yourself into. Don’t you want some more time before diving into all of that? To become more acquainted with the way things are?”

Luna denied it with a gentle wave of her mane. “Quite the opposite, sister, but on the subject of time…” She rolled a forehoof towards the scene visible beyond the tower’s balcony. A fiery red sun hovered indolently over the horizon, as if it were fighting not to drip out of sight. “May we?”

“Of course,” Celestia responded, moving with an elegant sort of grace and, bizarrely enough, a smile. Nightlight could only see the slightest edge of the alicorn’s face from where he stood, but the smile that graced her face was one which only She could make. It may have only lasted a moment, but for that moment Celestia was in her Canterlot, and all was right in the world. “I would like nothing more.”

Princess Celestia leapt into the sky, spread her wings, and lowered the sun.

A Hard Morning

The Moon is a Harsh Mistress
by NavyPony

Chapter Seven:
A Hard Morning

Princess Celestia leapt into the sky, spread her wings, and raised the sun.

When she dropped back to the Astral Dais, the horizon was ablaze and the Solar Princess was beaming just as brightly. More immediately, Nightlight was once more permitted to speak – propriety demanded silence during dusk and dawn, and the pony with whom he’d been conversing was a stickler amongst sticklers when it came to propriety. “Mister Slopes?” He turned to the Head Steward while the two alicorns shared a few words. “You were saying?” the young unicorn asked, fighting off a yawn.

“Yes, I received your message saying which times you were free to observe and help conduct the hiring interviews, but I wanted to confirm it personally. I sense there may have been some miscommunication, you see.” Slopes’ expression and tone remained entirely uninflected as he pulled a slip of paper from his vest pocket and began to read it. “‘The interviews will have to wait,’ it says, ‘because you need to… do… Mister Noon Nap first. Also, because the Princess wants to ride your flank, and you don’t know how long She’ll take.’”

‘What.’ That was wrong. It was all wrong. “I-”

The Head Steward wasn’t finished. “You continued by saying: ‘Then you have to get busy with the Night Stewards, and you also need some time with one of the librarians. And then you’ll be too spent to take care of anypony else,’ it concludes.” Slopes refolded the note and slipped it back into his vest pocket. “Mister Nightlight, I don’t really take you for such a cavalier fraternizer, nor one to admit to it so casually. Am I safe to assume that you weren’t the one to leave this message with my secretary?”

It was fortunate for Nightlight that the Princesses had a lot to talk about, because he spent more time collecting himself than it had taken to read the message. When he was finally able to form words, he explained. “No. I mean yes. Yes, it’s safe to assume that, and no, I wasn’t the one to speak with her.”

“Is that so?” His question was the same monotone that he normally used. “You had somepony else do it?”

“I… Yeah. Yes, I mean. I was busy and couldn’t find a good moment, so I asked another servant to do it for me,” Nightlight admitted with a twinge of worry that needled through his fatigue. “Ugh, and I had the same servant send a message to the librarian telling her I wanted to see her… This was a huge mistake, wasn’t it?”

The older steward was taken aback at the question, recoiling just slightly. “No. By all means, Mister Nightlight, delegate the trivial so that you can focus on the essential. It’s part of weighing importance and urgency. Assign your tasks to somepony else, if you can, because there will always be more things that you have to do personally,” he explained, nodding resolutely. “But you’ve started to figure this out, no?”

Nightlight certainly had noticed the fact. Being the Lunar Hoofservant was akin to drowning in a sea of problems, but… “B-But that message, i-it’s wrong!” he stuttered. “The-there’s no doing or flank-riding or anything else like that. I should’ve told your secretary myself.”

“You should’ve chosen a different messenger, Mister Nighlight.” Slopes sentence was chastising, but his inflection was calm. “And that’s the extent of it. We’ve lost a couple hours putting together the interview schedule and it might inconvenience the interviewees a good bit, but it shouldn’t affect the Princesses,” he reassured. “It will, however, become a much bigger problem if you don’t tell me the actual message now. I do have to put this together. So tell me: what time is best?”

He nodded unthinkingly, trying to reconstruct and paraphrase what he’d originally said. “I don’t think I’ll be free until afternoon. Princess Luna wanted to speak with me about something, and I don’t know what it’s about or how long it’ll take. I have business to take care of with the Night Stewards after that, and then something to address with Her Librarian.”

The Head Steward harrumphed, but it sounded good-natured; it was probably as close to a real laugh as the older pony had made all year. “Your messenger certainly had a way with words. So that last bit about being… spent, I think the word was… that was the assumption of your messenger?”

“Hmm? No, I- yes, but no. I mean…” Nightlight was unable to suppress his next yawn, and had to stop to cover his mouth. “Sir, I’ve gotten about three hours of sleep in the last… long time. In the last thirty-six hours, I think. I’m dead on my hooves and I’m running on fumes.” Caffeine and adrenaline fumes, mostly. “By the time I finish with everything else I have to do, I won’t be useful to anypony until I get some shuteye.” At this point, he was fantasizing about sleeping for days on end, but failing that, he needed at least a couple hours. “That’s why I wanted to wait until the afternoon, sir.”

“Oh?” Slopes probed, his expression deepening the creases between his eyebrows. “But if you were less tired, you could attend them earlier? The sooner the interviews are finished, the more time the new servants will have to prepare before starting their jobs. That means better performance.”

“I… I suppose so,” he conceded, yawning yet again. “But sir-”

There were no ‘buts’ about it. Slopes’ horn lit up with baby-blue light and much to Nightlight’s surprise, he found himself awash with a foreign magic. But as awkward as it normally felt to be the recipient of somepony else’s spells, this magic was strangely refreshing. He felt good, like he’d just had a short nap, a long stretch, a filling meal, a mug of strong tea, a couple aspirin, and a shot of bourbon. Maybe two shots, in fact. Nightlight had never heard of, let alone experienced, a spell quite like that one. ‘It has to be fifth level, at least,’ he considered.

Though only one syllable escaped his mouth, it expressed his thoughts perfectly. “Wow.”

“Thank you,” the senior steward responded, a proud grin smoldering beneath his cold exterior. “So, if you were less tired, you could attend interviews earlier?”

“I… Yessir. Um… I’ll probably get done by nine-thirty.”

“Very well. Interviews will take place in the Salon of Enervating Blues unless circumstances preclude it, so I’ll expect you there before ten. If you think you’ll be delayed, send word as soon as possible,” the older stallion directed, returning to his typical stony demeanor. “Do you have anything else?”

“I… was about to ask you the same, sir.” Nightlight joked with a subdued laugh. “I don’t really know what to do right now.”

It felt uncanny to be doing nothing for a moment, even if it was for just a moment. Ever since he’d been awoken that Monday evening, he’d always had something to do, but now… he had nothing. ‘Well not technically, but there’s nothing you can do,’ chimed a little voice in his head. ‘You’ve got loads to do. You just… can’t do it. Typical, yeah?’ It was. Princess Luna was going to want to speak with him in the next minute or so (presumably about all the things that’d been clopped up all night), so he couldn’t address any of the things he had stacked on his plate and, if only in some sense… there was nothing. For the first time in forever and a half, Nightlight had a second of respite.

Very awake. “That spell you used - what was it, sir?”

“It’s a family tradition, you could say. Me, my father, my grandmother, my great-grandmother, her father… it goes back about as far back as the Slopes do.” The older pony allowed himself another minute smile. “As the story goes, Princess Celestia taught it to Her first Head Steward, if you believe it.”

“That… explains a lot, I guess,” the darker steward muttered, rolling his eyes from behind the cover of his mane. “So you don’t actually need sleep?”

“Absolutely not; I can push the need for sleep back, but everypony needs sleep. Pushing it off, like this spell does, is a tricky and precise process,” which meant that Nightlight probably couldn’t learn it, “and it can’t be used repeatedly,” which meant that Nightlight couldn’t count on receiving its benefits very often. “On that note: do get some sleep as soon as you can. That’s an order, by the way; stay up too long and you’re apt to keel over.”

“Oh…kay… ” So when Slopes said ‘can’t be used repeatedly’ he really meant ‘dangerous’. “When should I be worried about that?” Nightlight asked, immediately wondering what the side effects of this spell might be. “When should I get some sleep?”

Slopes blinked twice at the question; it was totally unexpected. “Well, once the benefits outweigh the risks, of course. Keep asking yourself how you can best serve the Princess, and when going to sleep is the best way to do that, go to sleep,” he said seriously. “It’s just like everything else you do.”

“But keel over? When am-”

Nightlight was interrupted by not just one, but two goddesses. Having finished their conversation with each other, they were departing the Dais, and both were seeking their servants as they did so.

“Snowy?”

“Hoofservant.”

He responded automatically, his head snapping towards Luna so fast that it made his mane flick. “Your Highness?”

“Come.”

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

Instead of dismissing him immediately, Luna had Nightlight stay for almost an hour after they arrived at the Lunar Bedchamber. The word ‘weird’ did not nearly begin to describe it. “Draw Us a bath,” she commanded upon their arrival. “See it more heated than ‘twas hitherto.”

‘Bath. Hitherto?’ Nightlight paused to interpret Her words, and then again to realize the implication. ‘What did I do yesterday?!’

“Make haste,” the Princess uttered, marching with a ‘click click click’ across the hardwood floors and towards Her bedside. Doffing Her regalia while Nightlight scurried to the adjoining bathroom, Luna placed Her shoes, tiara, and breastplate in a small pile before sliding onto the bed to wait. She stayed there for a while, rubbing her hooves on the plush covers as the Lunar Hoofservant began his newest task.

The first thing that struck him upon entering the bathroom was the sheer enormity of it. It was huge. Beyond huge, even. Sure, everything in the room was built with an alicorn in mind, but this place was larger than the communal bathrooms in the servants’ wing and far nicer to boot. The walls and floor were cut from black marble, and all of the same vein if Nightlight guessed correctly. The spigots and knobs on the plumbing were all sterling silver and an enormous silver mirror covered one full side of the chamber. There were counters and washbasins and shelves galore, all furnished with towels and soaps and mane-care products, but next to the sheer size of the bathroom it was the bathtub that was most impressive.

The same way Luna’s bed dominated Her sleeping chambers, the bath was the focus of this room. Instead of being a separate appliance, it was literally cut into the floor so that a pony could walk down into it, and combined with its sheer size, the thing was more akin to a small swimming pool than a bathtub. Whether for reasons aesthetic or practical, it had a dozen spigots at varying intervals around the tub, and at the far end was a quartet of dials to control the water flow.

Nightlight hadn’t ever seen a bathtub that needed more than one knob to manage the water, but everything was well-labeled and in no time at all he had every tap spraying hot water at full-blast.

The young steward knew little enough about fluid dynamics to be impressed by the bathtub’s incredible water pressure, but he knew enough about time-management to realize it would very quickly be filled. Figuring he’d be ordered to do so, the young steward busied himself by collecting towels and shampoos and placing them within hoof’s reach from the bath. By the time he’d gathered everything the he could think of, the bathtub was full and the air thick with steam. He shut the water off and exited the bathroom. “Highness? Your bath is ready.”

The princess rose and moved towards the bathroom without speaking. Hooves unshod, Luna’s gait lacked its usual menace. Instead of the ominous click, click, click, to which Nightlight had become accustomed it was a simple clip-clop clip-clop. She walked slowly, paying heed to neither her surrounding nor her company until she arrived at the water’s edge. Staring dubiously at the steaming pool, Luna dipped a single hoof into the water.

She turned to face him with the same unreadable glare which she so often used. “Hmmph. ‘Tis sufficient.”

The princess waded in up to her neck and Nightlight released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. If he’d done this right, that meant she didn’t have to yell at him for it, which meant he could take care of everything else on his plate. “In that case, should I-”

“Stay,” Luna preempted. “We desire to speak with thee.”

“Y-yes?” Nightlight caught a gasp in his throat. If she could- ‘No. If she could read minds she’d already have banished me or something. She…’ He swallowed his fear of banishment, followed quickly by any hope he’d maintained of getting to his other obligations before long. “That- I mean, of course, Your Majesty.” He ambled to the edge of the bathtub and dropped to his haunches, and he tried not to look angry as he did so.

To describe it as difficult would be an understatement. Nightlight simply sat in place, waiting for Her Highness to speak to him so that he could go about the rest of the day’s obligations, while Luna did nothing. Literally, nothing. She simply soaked, not even washing herself, and gazed listlessly at the water’s surface.

Oh, Snowy Slopes was going to be so mad.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

“Hoofservant.”

“Hmm-uh?” The unicorn shook himself from his reverie, finding the bathroom unchanged but for the absence of steam rising from the bathtub. “Princess?”

There was not even a ripple in the water as Luna spoke. “What thinkst thou of our staff?”

Nightlight’s mouth opened more out of surprise than actual intent. “Uhh, y-you want my opinion of the staff, Your Highness?” Not only was this the first time she’d ever asked his opinion of anything, but also…

She scoffed without moving. “As We have tofore said, ‘tis desired that thou givest an estimation of our staff. What thinkst thou of the ponyfolk that serve the Night?”

There it was again. She’d said ‘our staff’. It was plural, and not in the royal sense. Not ‘Our staff’, but ‘our staff’. Furthermore, it was quite clear that she hadn’t dropped the royal we, on account of her use of-

“Hoofservant.”

For the second time in as many minutes, Nightlight snapped himself from the recesses of his mind. “Yes ma’am. The Night Staff. Our staff, I guess. Umm… what, what would you like to know?”

“Thy judgments thereupon,” she said tonelessly, “of both element and ensemble. In short, what dost thou know of the ponies who serve Us? What dost thou perceive, assess, and appraise?”

“I… What?”

“What,” she barked, finally turning to face him, “is thy opinion?”

“I…” he stuttered, floundering. “I m-mean, that is, what should I say? What… what do you want me to tell you?” It was as much to say: ‘What do you want my opinion to be?’

She could tell, and just as significantly, she wasn’t happy about it. Luna’s voice was unchanged, but Nightlight could’ve sworn the air temperature dropped ten degrees. “The truth, hoofservant, elsewise thou disserve Us and there be no wit to the inquiry. Now speak, afore Our bath falls cold.”

That didn’t leave him much time, seeing as how steam had long ago stopped rising from the water. “Yes. The Night Staff. Umm… Well, there’s… uhh, a lot of problems?” he tested, hoping it was the answer She wanted to hear. Her expression remained impassive. “Or no, I mean they… they’re very good, and they just… umm… good?” But no, no they weren’t. “I mean… uh…” What he meant was that Snowy Slopes or one of his sisters would know the right way to put it. ‘Buck, even Berry Punch would know the right thing to say. And I’m…’

The princess turned about in the tub so that she could look out the windows on one side of the tower. The sun blazed vibrantly enough to illuminate the entire room. “Hoofservant, what, praytell, deem thee to be Our purpose in this colloquy?”

“Colloquy, Your Highness?”

“Keh.” She scoffed loudly enough that Nightlight couldn’t have possibly missed it. “Conversement,” she said derisively.

“Conver- conversation?”

“That.” Luna pronounced the word as if it were distasteful and she wanted to get it off her tongue as soon as possible. “Now, wherefore dost thou think We… converse with thee? Unless thou art so ignorant as to misgrasp the strangeness of the occasion?”

“I…” Nightlight, as he ever did when he lacked either assumption or lie, resorted to the truth. “I noticed it, but… I don’t know.” Truthfully, there were a lot of things about the Princess that he didn’t understand, and he’d just thrown this one in with the rest of them. “I… I presumed that you would tell me if I needed to know.”

“Thou art correct,” the alicorn pronounced, her head inclining a fraction. “And furthermore, little dissimilar from Us. We find it peculiar as well.”

“Then why-”

“Hah.” Her scoff was deep-throated and unamused; it spoke more of self-mockery than true scorn. “‘Tis because Our sister entreats Us. ‘Speak with the Lunar Consort,’ she appeals. ‘Learn more about him,’ says she. ‘Find out what it is that concerns, bothers, and interests him. Be familiar with the frivolities and petty dealings of his life. After all, if you are to know about your servants, choose him first, for he-’ ehh. Our sister is irate with Us. We have miscarried her expectations by not understanding thee.” Thou Luna’s words were directed at him, it was clear that she was speaking more to herself than Nightlight. “And now she steeps in it, and it pains her, and it is Our failing. We could, you realize, never attend to her requests and she would never again address them, but she would henceforth have only guarded smiles and halfheld kinship. And there could be nothing worse. It would be as horrible as having never returned from Our moon. It kills.” Luna sighed and slid forwards in the water so that only half of her face showed above the surface. “We could spurn the squabbling of the peerage, janus cloth that they be. We might endure the weepings of the citizenry, for they have never known Us. Our friends, allies, foes, and retainers… anypony and everypony might be ignored, excepting my sister. And she is angry. It kills me, hoofservant.”

Nightlight knew he was supposed to say something here – he knew it – but he didn’t know what. There was, after all, the possibility that he was wrong in the first place, and that silence was actually the right choice. He did, however, feel confident that looking at Luna was the last thing he wanted to do, and just as likely, it was the last thing she wanted him to do. He tilted his head forwards and decided that between the likelihoods and outcomes of saying something right or wrong… it was best to remain silent.

And at the very least, Luna didn’t yell at him for his quiet. She whispered. “So speak. Be it about the staff, or thyself, or whatsoever the humors push through thy thoughts, speak, that I can unwound my relationship with my sister.”

“R-really, Your Highness? You want me to talk about… the Night Staff, or something?”

“It seems a suitable choice, being common to the pair of us.”

“Well the Night Staff is buc-” He almost had to bang his head into the bathroom floor to stop himself. One did not swear in front of an alicorn. “-I mean, broken. It, uh, has a lot of problems, to be honest.” Nightlight shot a surreptitious peek from beneath his mane, but if Luna had noticed his faux pas she didn’t show it. “Like, lots of problems. I think half of us quit since You-, well, in the last couple of days.”

“How curious. We desire to know the precise number. Inform Us this eve.”

Nightlight cringed internally at the order, but his face remained passive. “Y-Yes, Your Highness. I’ll find out and report back.”

“Then continue about our staff. Some ponies remain, nay?”

“Umm, a few, yes. But most of them are…” Nightlight wanted to say ‘crazy’, but that sounded less than respectful considering they were all there to serve Luna. Not to mention the fact that he didn’t want to start calling himself crazy just yet. “Anyways, we’re hiring more ponies today – this afternoon, in fact. A lot of courtiers and servants, as well as a new Chief Maid and another astronomer, I think.” There was another important role being filled, but Nightlight couldn’t remember what it was. “Do you have any… um, guidance, I suppose, about what kind of ponies you want?”

“Good ones, certainly,” Luna announced demurely, rising to a standing position. Her mane maintained its usual indolent wave despite being visibly waterlogged. “Speak to me of the ponies whose posts are yet unquit. But most of them are…”

The way Luna imitated Nightlight’s hesitant tone was creepy, to say the least, and it took him a few awkward blinks to get over the surprising accuracy. “Yes, well, they’re…” They were still all crazy, but crazy was still the wrong word to use here. He finally settled upon, “They’re somewhat mixed. For a lot of them, for a lot of us, I suppose, we kind of ended up in our jobs because we were the best fit.” The most apt description, Nightlight thought, would be an analogy involving square pegs and round holes. ‘And some octagonal pegs, a few triangular ones, and maybe a rhombus or two for good measure.’ Nonetheless, the analogy sounded too modern in his head to be helpful for Luna and he decided against its use. “What I mean to say, is that most of us worked in similar jobs to the ones we’re currently filling, but nowhere near on the same level. Like Your maids, who are no longer with us, or-”

“The Chef?” Luna began wading to the edge of the bathtub, the ripples from her passage camouflaging the little twitch her wings had made when she spoke.

“Umm, yes, that.” He’d still not gotten things sorted out with Harvest Moon and Ala Mode, and between the Head Chef’s disdain for the younger mare and Harvest’s wishy-washy temperament, Nightlight had spent more time running around the kitchens than anywhere else last night. And, of course, Luna had been displeased with everything presented to her. “There are a few problems, but-”

Luna sighed quietly as she climbed out of the tub. “Now that is truly an underestimation Our sister would find humor within. But as for these problems, see them attended to and resolved afore moonrise. We shall no more abide what has occurred these last few days.”

Nightlight levitated a plush towel to her as soon as she was all the way exited from the bath. “Excuse me, but how do you mean, Princess?”

“Dismiss her.”

“What.”

“Dismiss her, hoofservant.”

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

‘Clop me. Clop me. Clop me clop me clop me, motherbucking clop me with the moon.’ The thought played through Nightlight’s mind like a simple refrain when he exited the west wing of the castle. ‘She wants me to fire Harvest Moon?’

It wasn’t right. The mare in question might have been the most peculiar pony with whom he’d ever shared words (and that was saying something, he wanted to think), and she might have had the attention span of a sugar-binged gazelle, but Princesses damnit, she actually tried. She was one of the only ponies on all the Night Staff who was actually trying to do her job, despite all the trouble the Head Chef had been giving her, and Princesses damnit, she was getting fired and it wasn’t right. Most everything she’d been blamed for – all the late and unsatisfactory meals – wasn’t her fault. If anything, the blame belonged to-

“Nightlight, where the hay’re you going?” Noon Nap may as well have teleported right behind Nightlight for the way he seemed to appear out of nowhere. “This week’s maintenance logs are in all sorts of disarray, our requisition forms are tardy, and the filings behind. Oh, and last I checked, the Night Stewards’ office was this way.” The secondary Night Steward motioned with a wing behind him. “Unless you’ve conveniently ‘forgotten’ about your other duties now that you’ve become-”

Nightlight didn’t stop walking. “I’m kind of busy right now. If you’ll wait thirty minutes or so, I-”

“That should be ‘I’m kind of busy right now, sir’, and you’re ‘kind of busy’ because you’re bad at time management. And I’m sick of it.” Grunting as he did so, the sky-blue pegasus took a great leap into the air and landed in front of Nightlight, blocking the narrow path with his body. His cloudy mane bounced when he landed. “Seriously, turn around. You were supposed to do this stuff days ago, and it’s just piling up without you.”

Noon Nap was, technically, still his boss, and so he, technically, still merited the term of respect. “I’m kind of busy right now, sir.” The honorific, however, was the only compromise Nightlight was ready to make; he made to push around the pegasus, only to be foisted off with a wing and Noon Nap’s best attempt at a scowl. “Ugh, Noon, I have to go take care of something for the Princess. I’ll come back once I’m finished.”

“Do it afterwards,” Noon said with his nose in the air. “You’ve been putting this off for way too long, and this week’s report can’t be started until you finish last week’s. You do realize that, right? This is last week’s report that we’re talking about. Do your princess stuff after it’s done. It’s not like the princess is going to wake up in the next two hours.”

“Look sir,” Nightlight hissed, “I’m not going to talk to the Princess, I’m coming from talking to Her, and if I wait two hours, the pony I’m supposed to be talking to right now is going to be asleep, and I’ll waste even more time trying to take care of her. The paperwork, on the other hoof, isn’t going anywhere, so if you’ll just-”

Noon Nap interjected with a dismissive scoff, finally showing his true colors. “I don’t care. And I’ll feathering get Star Quill if you don’t follow me back to the office right now.”

“That… I…” The sound of Nightlight’s teeth grinding against each other became audible in the hallway. “Clop it, Noon! Just give me thirty minutes and I’ll be there!”

“Do this thing afterwards.”

“I don’t know where she’ll be two hours from now!”

“I. Don’t. Care.” Every word was caustically punctuated, and Nightlight couldn’t remember the last time (if there was a last time) that the Secondary Night Steward had been so fervent about anything. This really must’ve been bothering him. “You’ll either follow me back to the office and file everything you’ve been putting off for the last three days, or I’m going to go right now and wake up Star Quill.”

“Noon…”

The senior steward shoved his way past Nightlight and headed back the way he came. “Well, I suggest you think of something convincing to say before she finds you. Star doesn’t much like being awake in the day.”

‘Moonrocks.’ Why did this have to happen now of all times? Why couldn’t Noon couldn’t have slept in for another five minutes or gotten sidetracked with something or… anything. Then Nightlight could’ve finished this task, taken care of his work with the Night Stewards, and been on his merry way to do everything else on his plate for today. ‘But no. Now I’m stuck doing this, all the night staff’s going to go to sleep, and I’m going to have to go hunting for everypony I need to speak with, and I’m going to show up to Slopes’ hiring-thingy even later than I should. Buck me.’ But if he didn’t do this now, he’d have to put up with Star Quill’s antagonism, and another pony working against him was just about the last thing he needed right now. Especially if that pony was the highest-ranked member of the Night Stewards.

Nightlight swore in his head before swearing aloud. Then he conceded. “Fine, Noon, you win.”

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

“And make sure you file the rush paperwork alphabetically by department instead of alphabetically by date.”

“I know,” Nightlight growled, doing his best to order everything with his telekinesis. “It’s not my first time doing this, you know.”

“Be that as it may, I figured you must have forgotten, seeing as-”

“Shut up.”

Surprisingly, the pegasus did so, shrugging his shoulders and giving a dismissive tsk before leaping onto a nearby bookshelf and, rather unsurprisingly, laying his head down to sleep. There was, after all, a reason that Nap’s cutie mark was of a sleeping pony.

But despite Nightlight’s initial pleasure at having the acerbic steward stop breathing down his neck, he soon found the silence to be even less pleasant than his boss’ unnecessary comments. Sure, he didn’t have to deal with Noon breathing down his neck, but now the only pony around to bother him was himself.

And he had a lot on his mind.

‘So, Night,’ he couldn’t keep from asking himself, ‘have you figured out what to do about Harvest Moon?’

It was an easy question. ‘Obviously not, or else I wouldn’t be asking myself about it, would I? Still… it’s not like I have much choice about it. Luna told me to fire her, so that’s what I’ve got to do, right?’

‘You tell me,’ quipped back the little pony in his head. ‘You wouldn’t be asking that question if there was only one answer.’

‘But there’s only one right answer.’

‘And does firing Harvest Moon seem right to you?’

It didn’t, but disobeying royalty – and not just royalty, but an alicorn princess –didn’t seem right, either. ‘Princess Luna wouldn’t order me to do something wrong, would she? I mean, she’s-’

‘She’s been out of touch with society for a millennium? She’s not aware of everything that’s going on in the castle? She’s more distracted by the problems she’s facing with her sister than-’

‘I was going to say that she’s a goddess but… you know, if you don’t think that counts for anything…’

The devil’s advocate in Nightlight’s mind grumbled crossly and changed the subject. Not even his subconscious could argue against the rectitude of divinity. Wrong as that might have seemed… ‘Well then. Have you thought about how you’re going to fire her? I mean, it’s all very well and good to decide that you will fire her.’ It wasn’t, actually. ‘But there’s also the matter of how you’re going to go through with it. I mean, you could just go up to her and say ‘Oh, hey Harvest Moon. I hope you like being unemployed, because you are,’ but I can’t really recommend it. I don’t suppose you have any ideas about how to go about this?’

Nightlight didn’t. He could come up with dozens, if not scores of ways he shouldn’t fire Harvest, but not a single way that seemed proper, and that assumed there was a way. ‘As far as I’m concerned, the likelihood of a positive outcome is somewhere between zero and none.’ After all, it came down to the question of disobeying an alicorn goddess and ruining a pony’s life for something that wasn’t her fault.

‘You don’t know that it would ruin her life.’

‘True, but I don’t know that it wouldn’t. I mean, my life would be pretty messed up if I was fired without any sort of warning.

‘You’ve been getting plenty of warnings – in fact, you already quit at least once, and I’m surprised you haven’t been fired again. Ish.’ He rolled his eyes, which was very much a useless gesture when he couldn’t see himself doing it. ‘But that’s neither here nor there. The real question is what to do with Harvest Moon.’

But there was no real answer, and between the issue with Harvest Moon and the mounds of paperwork he was trying to sort through each problem started getting mixed with the others. It wasn’t long before everything stopped making sense. Over the course of the next six weeks, three of the castle’s grand pianos would inadvertently be donated to charitable foundations, a dozen nobles would arrive to assist the Head Groundskeeper with a landscaping endeavor (all but one of them later cited it as the worst garden party they’d ever attended), and several ponies were going to have their annual bonuses replaced with an enrollment in the Ponyville Jelly of the Month Club.

Just as Nightlight was misfiling the last of the piano restoration forms, however, another distraction presented itself.

A reticent clopping sound issued from the office’s door, like somepony wanted to knock but didn’t want the office’s occupants to hear. It was the kind of knock a shy servant might have made to fulfill the letter of an order but not the spirit – the kind Nightlight had been used to making. Strangely, it was accompanied by a quietly voiced “Knock-knock?”

“Hello?” Nightlight called in response, only halfway roused from the numbness of his paperwork. “Come in. The door’s open.”

The office’s door swung open with a quiet creek and painful slowness to reveal a purple pegasus mare with a greyish sort of mane and a folded paper star for her cutie mark. “You, umm… wanted to see me, I was told?” The mare spoke so quietly that she’d almost have gone unheard in a library. It was somewhat fitting, considering that she was supposed to be Princess Luna’s Royal Librarian.

It was kind of the chief reason he’d asked her to come find him in the morning… and kind of not. “Yeah, um, I did,” he said as he motioned to a nearby chair. “Sit down, would you?”

“Y-yes, sir.” The mare did, giving an uncomfortable glance around the crowded office. Her gaze travelled all about the office, lingering on everything from the cluttered bookshelves to the sleeping pegasus on top of them instead of facing Nightlight. Then she stopped, eyes locked on the mountain of paperwork before him. “Umm… you have the date wrong on that form, you know… And that one… and that one, too.”

Nightlight blinked a couple times and took a second glance on the sheets he’d been filling out with yesterday’s date. In ink. In triplicate. Bucking hay. “I… thanks,” he growled, setting the pages aside to recopy later. “But anyways, I called you because-”

“And that one, too…”

One of the young stallion’s eyes twitched involuntarily as he struggled not to push all the papers off his desk. Clearly he was going to have to redo every one of the forms. “That’s not why I wanted to talk to you.”

“Of course not, I just thought you’d want to-” Origami was cut short by the dark expression on Nightlight’s face.

“I…” This was not going well, and certainly nothing like he’d planned. He’d called the mare to come speak with him because Luna had told him to address problems with Her librarian earlier in the night, and Nightlight only had half a clue how to ‘deal with problems’. ‘Of course, if you can’t give a simple chastisement or something, how can you expect to fire another pony?’ He couldn’t, of course, so he had to get through this conversation without looking weak, and that meant not banging his head repeatedly on the table, no matter how much he was inclined to do so. “Origami… do you... do you have any idea why I might’ve called you here?”

The violet mare gulped, her eyes widening slightly. “Umm, yes?” But the expression on her face said ‘no’. Or it said, ‘Please let me go, I’m so sorry and I won’t do it again because-’ Okay, so her eyes were widening a lot more than slightly.

It was almost enough to frighten Nightlight, which he’d have found somewhat ironic if he’d been thinking a little bit more rationally. It looked like the pegasus was afraid of being fired. Or imprisoned. Or banished. Or sent to the moon, and that was just silly, considering... ‘Considering what? Considering you’ve been scared silly of just that for the last couple days? And now…’ He sighed, and he only vaguely realized that it was something he’d been doing a lot of in the last three nights. “Origami, Princess Luna is…” He paused, trying to pick the best wording. “I mean, I am… that is… Origami, do you know what your job entails as ‘Royal Librarian’?”

The purple mare’s face clenched in what had to be irritation but her wings slumped to the ground dejectedly. “I thought I would help Luna translate or cross-reference or… or something. I mean, She’s doing so much reading and research about how Equestria has changed, or something, but She doesn’t want any help. She just…” Origami slid forward, her elbows on Nightlight’s table and head in her hooves. “…She tells me to go away and that She’ll find everything alone. Then I get yelled at when She can’t find something. Then I get yelled at when somepony bothers Her. Then I get yelled at when-”

“Ac-actually,” Nightlight interrupted with a wave of his hoof, “that’s the thing I wanted to talk to you about.”

Origami’s expression could best be described as ‘pouting’. “The yelling?”

“No, well yes, kind of. I wanted to talk about the um, the reason for the yelling. It’s just that the Princess is kind of… less than thrilled with…”

“She’s mad at me.”

He dropped his quill down without bothering to blot it out. “No, me.”

“You-” Her eyes went even wider than they already were. “You’re mad at me?”

What? That was ridic- Well, no it wasn’t entirely ridiculous. Nightlight was more than a little bit upset with the mare. “No, I meant that Luna’s mad at me, and so I’m… you know, this talk isn’t going the way I… well, hoped.” He’d been going to say ‘expected’, but he didn’t actually have much in the way of expectations. “What I’m trying to say is-”

Origami nodded twice in rapid succession and rose to her hooves. “Is that I should leave and we can talk some other time when you know what to say and when I know what’s what and when you’re not…” She trailed off, her eyes sliding down to the table between them. “Dripping ink all over your papers! Oh, and those are 86-59-87 Forms! Those are last week’s book requisitions!” She immediately snatched the dripping quill from the table and began blotting the papers with her wings. “And look at the splotches on this one. And this one, and… this one’s wrong… misfiled. This one, too.”

“Huh?”

“Look, you’re routing it through the Supply Division when it ought to go straight to Logistics. And this one needs a copy for Finance. And this form is… wow, you’re not very good at… uh, I mean… Sir, are you maybe new at this paperwork, sir?”

Nightlight gave a subtle glance up at the still sleeping Noon Nap above the furthest bookshelf. “What? No, normally I could do this sort of thing in my sleep.” Which wasn’t entirely true, else he’d have done it yesterday or the day before. “I’m just… ugh… distracted.” He pushed a pile of apparently incoherent paperwork away, just for the pegasus across from him to snatch it up and begin shuffling through it.

“But this stuff’s…” She trailed off, but the look she sent Nightlight’s way suggested that she really could do this sort of thing in her sleep. Or else it meant she wanted to say that but she was afraid that he’d do something unthinkable to her for the suggestion. “You, umm, must really be distracted. What’s wrong, um, sir?”

Nightlight propped his head in one hoof. “Don’t… you shouldn’t call me ‘sir’ – it sounds weird. And yes,” he admitted a bit louder, “I… ugh. Origami, what were you doing before you were Her Librarian? Your previous job, I mean?”

“I was the Head Librarian’s secretary. I, umm… did inventories and bookkeeping and managed her schedule and stuff. I’m the one that filled out these 86-59-87 Forms, you know.” She delicately tapped a couple of papers with one hoof. “I… I mostly do, I mean did, paperwork and… that kind of thing. Sometimes I ran deflection for her. Just things, really – nothing important. And before that I was just another of the librarians.”

And suddenly Nightlight had a slightly better understanding of the pegasus talking to him. She was a lot like him, really, except with a little bit more form-filing and less manual labor… so maybe a little bit more responsibility and more logistics. “So your job’s completely different from what it used to be, huh?”

“You could say that, I guess,” the purple mare responded with a half-hearted roll of her shoulders and a sigh. “Is that why you’re so distracted, then? Your job’s different, too?”

“I used to be an entry-level steward, Origami, and now I’m her…” Somehow, the word ‘hoofservant’ didn’t seem to properly convey what Nightlight did as well as certain vulgarities. “Whatever. I’m in trouble for everything that everypony does the littlest bit wrong, and now I have to fire somepony.” Nightlight drooped his head down, allowing his long mane to hide his face. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”

Nightlight wished he could have plucked his last two sentences from the air just as soon as they left his mouth – Origami’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and she began to hyperventilate. “Please don’t fire me?” It came out as more of a question than any sort of request. “I mean, just because the Princess told me that I… that I… I mean, I can change! Really, I’ll get better!”

Noon Nap gave an especially loud snore in response to the mare’s outburst, and Nightlight rushed to assuage her that no, she didn’t have to be afraid of getting… ‘Well buck, maybe she does? I mean, if Luna wants me to fire Harvest Moon because she thinks she’s doing a horrible job as her chef, then… But on the other hoof there’re others with whom she’s way more upset, chief amongst them being… ’ Nightlight sighed, gesturing with a hoof for her to quiet down. “What? No. No, it’s not you. Anyways, I’m pretty sure that I have more to worried about in that department than you.”

His words did little to assuage the look of fear plastered on Origami’s face, but her breathing slowed down slightly. “I’ll get better… I promise.”

Nightlight pushed the chair in which he was sitting away from the table and leaned back, staring up at the ceiling with his forehooves hanging limply. It surprised him how many cracks were running through the ceiling. ‘And how in Equestria does a ceiling get stained like that?’

It didn’t matter. He took a deep breath and rolled off the chair, glancing up to the bookshelf on which Noon Nap was still sleeping. Then he turned back to Origami. He’d called this mare here to… well, not yell at her, but tell her to start doing a better job, or something, and now… she was doing that to herself. In fact, she looked like she was as close to cracking under the strain as anypony he’d ever met. “Origami,” he said, maintaining a mostly level tone. “I wasn’t talking about you, I was talking about somepony else. In fact, when I was talking to the princess earlier today-”

Origami gulped loudly.

“-you were only mentioned in passing.” Which was technically true.

“Then why did ask me to come talk to you?” Even as she spoke, her eyes were flitting about the bookcases and shelves and the general chaos that composed the Night Stewards’ Office as if searching for a hiding place.

He wanted to pound his head on the floor or something, but that would have probably resulted in cracks in the floor, too. “I saw you were having problems last night and-”

Origami gulped loudly.

“-the Princess didn’t say anything about them to me.” Which was a complete lie, and made all the more egregious by the fact that the librarian had probably still been in earshot when the Princess started speaking (such was the nature of the Royal Canterlot Voice). Whether that were the case or not, however, Nightlight’s words seemed to have something of a calming effect on the young mare. “But I wanted to talk to you about them.”

“Okay…” Instead of looking frantically about, Origami closed her eyes. “What is it?”

Nightlight explained. The problem was that the library, as Luna had informed Nightlight, was to be a place in which she expected nopony to bother her without good cause. It hadn’t been much of a problem the previous night; after the first servant got a taste of the Canterlot voice, word spread like wildfire and Luna was pleasantly surprised with how quiet the library had been. At least, so Nightlight had been told – that was the night he’d been Stared.

This last night, however, had been worse. While most of the lower-level servants were still cowed, many of the castle’s couriers and petty nobles had decided it time to curry favor with Equestria’s newest princess, and there were a lot of those nobles. The first of them had convinced Nightlight to her through, claiming ‘important business’ with the Princess. She’d left tail between her legs, bellows of anger trailing in her wake. The second did the same, and left the same as well. By this point, Luna had called Nightlight to her, and in certain terms informed him that no more of these ‘ludibrious bits of janus cloth’ were to waste her time.

Then number three had arrived.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

Nightlight had just been exiting the library to fetch a genealogist (Luna had never explained why, precisely, but it was apparently urgent) when he encountered a kind of pony that the Night Stewards didn’t often see – a noble.

“Umm, can I help you?” Nightlight asked of the white mare as she approached. “I think you’re in the wrong part of the castle. This is the library.” He suppressed a yawn. “And it’s the middle of the night. What are you doing here?”

“Yes, well,” the unicorn had said with the uppity accent of somepony who lived much closer to the Castle than Nightlight had grown up. “My name is Lady Beige, and I desire to speak with Her Highness the Head of the Midnight Court. Let me pass,” she ordered, tossing taupe-colored mane with a flick of the head.

Nightlight permitted himself a weary sigh. Seriously, what was up with all of these ponies wanting to talk with the Princess? Hadn’t they learned anything? “Miss Beige, I’m sorry, but-”

“That’s Lady Beige, servant.”

And that was one of the reasons Nightlight had joined the Night Stewards instead of their daytime counterparts. He bowed his head anyways, because it was what he was supposed to do. But nothing in his training said he couldn’t grit his teeth as he did it. “Well I’m sorry, Lady Beige, but the Princess has specifically instructed me not to let… ahh… less-than-urgent business distract Her.”

“This is urgent.” The noblepony flipped her mane once again, her curls bouncing rather more merrily than the face she presented. Then, when Nightlight remained stationary she added, “Stand aside.”

He didn’t. “Lady Beige, I know you probably think your business is urgent, but, umm…” The mare glowered. “You see, Princess Luna might have a… uh, different idea of what is urgent. I mean, what’s urgent to her and what urgent to you-”

“Servant, what’s your name?”

It wasn’t until after he’d spoken that it struck him not to answer. “Nightlight.”

“Well, servant Nightlight, when I speak to Her Highness I will be sure to inform her of your actions, and I expect she will be furious. You should probably pack your things.” She turned around with a ‘harrumph’ and walked away.

‘Thank goodness. Thank the goddesses.’

“She’s coming back, you know.”

“Huh-whuh? Nightlight’s jumped almost a foot in the air when the soft voice appeared behind him. “Who’s there?”

“Please don’t yell,” she said. “You’re in the library. Kind of. Technically. Well, I think the doorway counts.”

“No really, who’s- Oh.” The purple mare shrunk under Nightlight’s gaze. “You’re… you were here last night. Ah! You’re Luna’s Royal Librarian aren’t you?”

“Yes, umm, I’m…I’m Origami,” she whispered. “And would you please be a teensy bit quieter? It’s like none of you realize that libraries are supposed to be quiet. Nopony. Nopony at all…”

“Origami, I’m Nightlight and I-”

“Her Hoofservant. Yes. She’s been, kind of, umm… loud about all of that.” Her head was almost touching the floor. “But umm, you know she’s coming back? She had that ‘Oh, you’re dumb and I’m smart so I’m going to make you think you won and actually just come back later’ look to her. Nobles are like that.”

Ergo, Night Stewards instead any job that had to deal with nobles on a regular basis. “Uhhh, yeah. Look, I need to go and-”

“Find a ‘documenter of lineage’, or something?”

“Yeah, that. Look I need to… I don’t know how the buck I’m supposed to do… that… but anyways, can you help me out with this?

“No.” Over the last seventy-two hours Nightlight’s scowl had become remarkably more intense. “I mean yes, of course.”

“Good. Alright, I have to find out if there even is a royal genealogist, and then wake him up if there is one. In the meantime, I need you to keep these nobles from bothering Her. Can you do that?”

“N- well, maybe?”

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

He’d never found a genealogist, and when he finally reported thusly, the Lunar Princess seemed almost unbothered. “Hmmph. We then find Canterlot unsuitably misdight, but that is of minor import. Shouldst thou be unable to corrade such a documenter, We shall address Out sister on the subject.” Nightlight heaved a sigh of relief when the Princess spoke, cold as it was. Then he changed his mind when She followed it up with a hiss, “But We are overcome by another matter.” That was a bad sign. “We recollect a conversement regarding these… keh… malagrugrous peers. Hast thou forgotten?”

He winced.

“We have since been grotesquely approached by a series of these ponies.” She turned a page in the tome which She perused, using a hoof instead of magic. “Thou shouldst know, ‘tis an unseemly squandering of Our time for which We blame thee.” She slammed the book shut and snapped around to face the little black unicorn, her ethereal mane hardly moving as She did. “Most interestingly was a mare that informed Us of an obstacle which befell her – a retainer whose description might have been tangled with thine.”

“Yes! I mean, I stopped her and-”

“Hadst thou done so, We wouldst have remained unperturbed, and yet WE WERE!” The little pegasus behind the library’s desk shrunk out of sight, and Nightlight would have done the same, weren’t the blazing eyes of the Goddess of the Night glaring down at him. “WHEREFORE? ENLIGHTEN US!”

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

There had been something about ‘nailing one’s courage to the sticking plate’ – Nightlight didn’t fully recall – but he thought it was spoken of Origami and not of him… not that there hadn’t been things spoken of his character as well. “Well, you need to be more… forceful,” he explained to Origami, her eyes still wide as she heard the events from his perspective. “Luna needs you to be more forceful. Like, you need to be the bucking definition of force.”

“Yeah, but…” Her wings and head drooped simultaneously, both of them touching the floor. Whether or not Nightlight’s vulgarity contributed to Origami’s behavior, it was impossible to tell. “But yeah…”

And again, it seemed like something was going right for once, and Nightlight was almost pleased enough to allow himself a smile. “Great. Then I’m going to just finish up this paperwork and…” And said bookkeeping was taking rather longer than it should have, he remembered.

That fact was particularly emphasized when another stallion, one of a very similar color but much larger than Nightlight, stuck his head into the Night Stewards’ Office. “Mister Hoofservant?” the familiar, gravelly voice inquired. “I bear a message.”

Aided by her wings, Origami’s surprised jump took her several feet into the air; Nightlight merely turned his head. “Lieutenant Midwatch?”

“Ugghh,” the guard sighed and rolled his eyes, shaking his head and turning a lip up in disgust. Nightlight suddenly became starkly aware of the fact that the pony with whom he was speaking was without his armor or any other symbol of rank. “I’m not a lieutenant. I’m just passing a message: one Mister Slopes wants me to remind you that-”

Nightlight went deaf and his heart stopped when he looked up at the clock on the wall. It was half past ten, which was to say that Nightlight was more than thirty minutes late. “Clop me. Clop me, clop me with the-”

While Origami continued to blush, the lieutenant-turned-envoy just walked into the office. “Mister Hoofservant,” he said, “pull yourself together and come with me. The Chamber of Enervating Blues is this way.” He gestured over his shoulder with a thick hoof. “And you’re expected, sir.”

Nightlight despaired. “But I need to be there and I still have all this paperwork to do and he-” a slim hoof motioned in the direction of one still-sleeping pegasus on the highest bookshelf.

“Tch. Bureacracy.” Midwatch shook his head in a way that Nightlight was all too familiar with. “It can wait.”

“Yeah, but-”

“It can wait,” he reiterated, waving for the steward to follow him. “I was tasked with bringing you to the other wing of the castle and I intend to do so, sir.”

“But-” Then he thought about it. ‘But nothing. You’d already decided to do it later if necessary, and now it is necessary. This plot-plowing nonsense has taken long enough that you’re already showing up late to the hiring you’re supposed to be at, you’ve only just finished with the librarian, and you haven’t even started with Harvest.’ That was, admittedly, something he was a little bit grateful for, seeing as how much he dreaded it. “I guess you’re right, it’s just paperwo-”

“No!” That single syllable was louder than any sound that had come from Origami’s mouth that week. “We need it! Without paperwork, nothing would happen! We couldn’t keep track of everything – of anything! How else can the departments communicate? How else can the castle stay organized? Why, if we didn’t have our paperwork, Canterlot Castle would be Discord’s playground!”

“It already is,” scoffed Midwatch from the doorway. “Besides, I thought idle hooves were-”

“That’s ‘Discord’s playthings’, not playground,” she corrected before turning to scan the assortment of documents burying the table. The disarray made her grimace. “But doing this will also help with that. All of this needs to happen.” She waved a hoof over the pile.

Midwatch’s response was impassive compared to Origami. “So do the hiring interviews, Miss, and he needs to be there.” He stared the mare down coldly. “Is there anywhere you need to be?”

“But… but… ugh.” The mare slumped her shoulders in despair. “It’s probably for the better anyways, seeing as how everything’ll get all messed up otherwise.” She pulled a strand of her mane away from eyes and marched over to the side of the table in which Nightlight had been working. “Fine. Get up and I’ll do it.”

Nightlight paused to process the words he’d just heard. Origami’s tone was as disparaging as Noon Nap’s always was, but she was actually offering to do work and that made it sound infinitely better in the steward’s ears. “Really?”

Midwatch and Origami spoke simultaneously. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

It was good enough for him. “Fine. Thanks. Midwatch, let’s go.”

“Aye.” The large stallion turned sharply and stepped out of the office, Nightlight cantering ahead.

As they left the office, a tiny grumble left the mare’s mouth. “I totally deserve a raise for this muck.”

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

Nightlight would have been sprinting if not for the steady march that the larger pony maintained. Also, the things Midwatch had said as Nightlight began to run ahead. “Hoofservant. Sir, you shouldn’t run where other ponies can see you. It makes you look unprofessional – like you’re not in control of the situation.”

Nightlight abstained from nickering in frustration at the guardspony’s statement. “That’s fine, because I’m not in control. I’m running around the castle playing catch-up with things that need to already be done, I’m showing up late to these interview things, and I’m trying to figure out how to do something I’ve never done before and don’t want to do,” Nightlight said in a single breath. “So, I think it’s okay to look like I’m not in control.”

“Composure is very much the illusion thereof, Mister Nightlight. Putting on the appearance of calmness will help you maintain it, and sometimes that’s enough to make a difference,” the older stallion responded listlessly, not bothering to look at the steward walking with him. “But that doesn’t mean you should pretend to know what you’re doing and just run about until everything collapses around you. Ask for advice from somepony you respect.”

“Who would you recomm- Wait.” A funny thought struck the dark steward. “Am I asking advice about asking advice?”

Midwatch snorted, the corner of one lip turning up slightly, and only slightly. He was a member of the Royal Guard, after all. “I suppose so.”

Nightlight didn’t waste time; there was something big that’d been bothering him all morning. “Well let’s skip that. I need some advice.”

“I might advise you not to take my advice, but if you want I’ll do what I can. Ask.”

“Princess Luna and I talked this morning... and She wants me to fire a member of the Night Staff.” Nightlight paused, and the hall remained silent but for the steady clip-clop of the two ponies’ steps. There were, thankfully, no servants in this section of the castle, although Nightlight couldn’t imagine why. He continued. “But the thing is, she didn’t do anything, really. She’s getting blamed for things that I… well, a few ponies did wrong, me included.”

Midwatch responded with a completely noncommittal noise and Nightlight took that to mean he ought to continue. “So I don’t know what to do. I mean, I’ve never fired anypony before – I’m just a low-ranking steward, and now…” He sighed. “And she’s really good at her job, and she loves it, too. It feels… wrong.”

The larger stallion stopped in the middle of the hallway, right in front of one of the large paintings which adorned the castle. This one was Painting of Celestia #38 – it had been rendered only Celestia herself knew how many hundreds of years ago, and it was definitely from a different era than the one they were in. The Solar Princess, in all Her furious glory (or at least the artist’s best rendition), gazed down at Nightlight. It might’ve been created back in the times when Equestrians still knew that She could Stare, and it was almost certainly the reason this hallway was so desolate.

Midwatch didn’t take his eyes off the painting when he spoke. “Mister Hoofservant, I don’t think you want my advice.”

Nightlight had to jerk himself out of the painting’s stare to answer. Frightening as the image was, it seemed hypnotic. “But I do.”

“No.” Midwatch shook his head, but continued to stare up at the image. “You gave me all the reasons not to follow Princess Luna’s command, but no reasons why you should, and that means your problem isn’t that you don’t know what to do. Your problem is that you don’t want to do what you know you should do.” The stallion breathed out a sigh that sounded like it belonged to a much older pony than Midwatch looked. “You want me to tell you that you should take the easy way out, and I won’t.”

“That…” The younger pony dropped his haunches to the marble floor. It was cold. “Oh.”

“You’re sworn to serve Princess Luna, and She gave you an order.” Midwatch slowly faced about, his gaze terribly akin to the one framed behind him. “Do as She commands.”

“But…” Nightlight said aloud the unthinkable. “But the Princess is wrong”

It was at that moment in which Princess Celestia stepped from around a corner.

“Well buck me.”