Chapters The Tales Of The Lunar Consort, Volume II
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Seventy-five years have passed since The Fall of Princess Luna and the Banishing of the Nightmare. Celestia, her sister, now rules Equestria single-handedly... and alone. Her heart, once so whole, is now shattered; her sister's fate is what is hurting her so. The fate of Luna's husband and Consort is a smaller, but no less painful, wound; nopony knows exactly what happened to him after Luna's cursing. His mind presumably broken beyond repair and bereft of his senses, the famed, brilliant and much-loved stallion vanished without a trace one night, after the Banishing, never to be seen again. He is presumed dead by this time; he'd be over one hundred years old now.
Celestia's heart hurt even worse; she felt, as with her sister, guilt and shame; she had treated him very badly during his first few years at the Castle in Canterlot, most shamefully.
With both of the Lunar couple out of the way, several rogue factions within the structure of Equestria's government (notably, nobles, go figure) had launched many brutal attacks on their strange-looking servants, the Race of the Bat Ponies. And now, the leaderless Race is assumed to extinct. The Children of the Night are gone, and with them a core - but virtually unknown - part of Equestria's defenses.
And now, Equestria, despite it's new monarch 's skill in the fields of politics, is beginning to crumble, and there is really nothing that she can do to stop it. Her Royal Consort himself, Thunder Strike, is rather able in dealing with politicians, but even with his help Celestia's rule is failing.
The Domain of the Sun is crumbling, but, hidden far away from her sight and deep with the Hollow-In-the-Shades, something now stirs. Preparations to reveal itself have long been underway, and very soon it will be able to emerge back into the sunlight.
This is the Tale of the Restoration of Equestria by it's Fallen under the Rule of Princess Celestia in the Year Seventy-Five Sol .
The Tales Of The Lunar Consort, Volume II
Part I, Sub-Part I: The Procedure
The Tales of the Lunar Consort, Volume II
by
A Renegade Time Lord
Part I : The Rebirth of The Children Of The Night
Sub-Part I: The Procedure
Castle of They, The Hollow-In-The-Shades, Near the disputed Equestrian northeastern border
An ancient Pegasus stallion walked slowly along the empty hall of the deserted Castle. He wore a black suit with a black tie. The metal ferrule of his ebon cane tapped on the flagstones, echoing about the empty corridor. Aged tapestries, centuries old but suffering no loss of the vibrancy of their colorings, fluttered weakly in a breeze that blew through the place. They depicted numerous scenes from years long since passed and places far away, great battles and much glory, many lives and numerous souls. These and other memories of the life that once flowed here tormented the old stallion, and verily, tears sprang to his eyes. On his cane, the hand, gnarled with age but surprisingly strong, tightened; this was, to a very large degree, his shame, his failure. The Children Of The Night were his responsibility, and while he'd hidden for the better part of a century, the Race had virtually gone extinct.
He'd hoped that, even with the Fall, some other examples of the Race had survived and had continued to occupy the Castle, but it seemed that even this was too much to hope for...
The old one spent yet another few minutes, reviewing certain Facts in his aged but no less spry mind while a Bat Pony mare in gleaming armor lurked behind him protectively. This mare's name was Moonlight Rose. She had entered the old stallion's service some twenty years prior, when he'd discovered her lurking about his home, searching for food. With her being one of the Race, and thus his responsibility, he'd taken her in and sheltered her; she was merely a filly at the time, and now she was a tall, powerful and beautiful mare of the breed. Indeed, she'd flowered from a tiny, frightened filly into a fine, ferocious and highly fertile adult. Aside from a few other examples, she alone constituted her Race, that of the mighty and proud Lunar Pegasi, as her race was properly called. They had valiantly defended Equestria under the command of the Princess of the Night for ages, dying for a country that barely even knew they existed; now they were a tiny, pathetic remnant of themselves, and long since faded from the memory of all but perhaps three or four.
"Moonlight Rose." The old one croaked, not turning to her. Moonlight's ears perked, and she dashed to the side of her aged companion.
"My Lord," she said, bowing stiffly at the waist, never taking her eyes off the frail old stallion to whom she owed her entire life.
The stallion stopped his touring and turned to to look at her. "Do you know where you are, Moonlight? I've spoken to you of this place many a time before, but never have I brought you here. Tell me; where are we?"
Naturally, Moonlight Rose knew; she'd always nursed a desire to come here, ever since he'd taken her in and told her who she was.
"The Castle of They, in the Citadel."
"Correct. Very good. The Castle of They. The Heart of the Hollow. The home of your ancestors. Your ancestral home. I'm afraid that it is, alas, uninhabitable; creatures have made it their home." The old stallion said, emphasizing the word 'their'. "I've no more tests for you; you've completed them all. You, my child, are the alpha female of your entire Race. However, we still have work to do. Your sisters should be along presently."
Moonlight and her four sisters were the very last of their breed; their race now existed solely in these five mares. The Race would die permanently soon if they did not breed themselves. Fortunately, Faust had, in her eternal wisdom, provided for this eventuality in the form of the mares being gifted (or cursed) with a hyperactive reproductive system. A delayed implantation cycle, bicornuate uteri, both ovaries releasing multiple eggs at a time, in addition to an extremely powerful sexual drive. The only thing absent, in all actuality, was... a stallion of the race.
The two merely stood and waited, watching the Moon and their matron goddess. Soon, the snap of leathery wings alerted the pair to the four sisters' presence. The two turned and trotted to the abandoned courtyard. There, in armor identical to their eldest sister's, stood four other Bat Pony mares. Their names were Starlight Streak, Quercus Alba, Night Flight and Noctilucent Terra. Starlight Streak had a white blaze running down her snout. Quercus Alba had a blue dappled hide, contrasting with Night Flight's all-black fur. Noctilucent Terra had white irises, which was unusual; the genetic standard (monopoly, really) was golden yellow, slitted irises. All five of the mares had grown up, quite literally, under the massive wing of the old stallion, grown up under his teachings and they were now ready to assume the mantle of the rulers of their domain. But first, something more was needed. More Lunar Pegasi, stallions of the race, specifically, were needed.
"Come, my daughters," The old stallion said proudly, unfurling his big, broad wings. "We've a bit of work to do."
A month later, in the Armory beneath the Castle...
Night Flight was relaxing. She munched on some poor carcass she'd caught in the Castle as a snack. She'd been cleaning the Armory, under the order/request of the old one. As the old one had predicted, few of the suits of armor that had originally called the Armory home had remained there. Indeed, only seven intact suits remained, and three of those were damaged; the spells that had protected the Citadel had failed during the Great Purge, after the Fall. They would have to be reactivated and given a more physical grounding.
Night Flight reclined on one of the soft cushions that littered the place as she finished her noshing. One of the larger suits sat to her right. It was proportioned for a stallion. She wondered... What would a stallion be like? She'd never seen one; there were none to be seen, aside from the old one. Certainly she knew the anatomy of a male, from the old one, from her and her sisters' talking to him while he bathed and cooked and such. But that still wasn't enough. She still had questions, curiosities, that even the old one wouldn't or couldn't answer. She burned , sweet Mother, burned, burned for a stallion to make her submit and paint her vaginal walls with his fluid. Sweaty, sweet, steamy, sloppy, spermy sex was what she wanted. Admittedly the old one had taught her and her sisters about sex, but only from a technical view. She wanted the physical , and she wanted it now! She was sorely tempted to diddle herself, to play with her mound till she squealed, and indeed her hand was headed to her nethers, sweetest of sweets, when footsteps, some armored, some not, made themselves known and she instantly shaped up.
Moonlight Rose and the old one trotted down the stair and emerged into the dimmer light of the Armory. He bowed to Night Flight stiffly, as though it was a slight trouble to do so.
"Evening, Nighty," Moonlight Rose greeted her younger adoptive sister.
"Sister. Father." Night Flight replied, inclining her head, concealing her irritation at the pair's abrupt entrance.
"Daughters," the old one intoned. "The laboratory is set up. Everything is prepared for the procedure. And I myself am ready. Shall we proceed, please; I am dying, you know."
The other three mares entered the Armory, dressed unusually. Normally, it was a very rare sight to see a Bat Pony out of their armor, and it was nigh impossible to remove a Bat Pony's armor without the wearer's permission; the armor possessed numerous magical qualities that made each suit essentially a step or three below sentient, and each suit was, for lack of a more appropriate phrase, highly possessive of it's current wearer. The armor was also very much like skin to the Bat Ponies; to not wear it was pretty much equal to public nudity.
Now, Moonlight Rose's sisters were garbed in, not their armor, but simple, white cotton medical clothing, acquired from the Castle's infirmary. Noctilucent Terra carried a case, which she had wrapped in her arms; she looked like she was guarding it with her life. The old one trotted stiffly to her and took the case from her gently.
"Come, my dears," he croaked, "Let us hurry to the laboratory. I am most impatient to begin the procedure."
Castle of They, East Wing, medical sector,
Grandfather had dragged a screen across the room and stripped, leaving his clothes on a bed, and the mares strapped the old stallion, his wings flared as far as they would go, down onto the operating table, securing his wings and cinching the leather straps as tight as they dared. The mares knew that the straps hurt the old one, but it was he himself who had instructed them to do so. Now, Night Flight opened the case Grandfather had taken from Noctilucent Terra and opened it. Inside reposed thirteen sealed vials filled with a viscous, luminescent green fluid.
"Life, my daughters," Grandfather croaked. "That fluid, is life itself. It is what I have searched almost my entire life for. And now, it is done. All that remains is the injection into the bone marrow."
The mares all winced in unison; he'd told them almost everything about this procedure, but he'd left that out in every eloquation he'd given them.
"Nocti? Please load twelve of those vials into the appropriate slots."
Noctilucent Terra obeyed, fitting twelve of the vials into their destined places on the side of the table. The fluid slowly dribbled out of the vials and into a reservoir beneath the table and was promptly sucked up into another reservoir above the table. This one was attached to a deadly-looking device, with twelve needles about as thick around as your middle finger and tapering to very, very thin points. Connected to this device was a lever that, when thrown would send the needles plunging down into the old stallion's body at very precise points; specifically, certain bones in his body. The femurs, humeri, vertebrae, the pelvis and several other bones, including the major ones in the wings, were to be subject to the injection.
"Now. My children. Your final task for me. Before I tell you, though, I must warn you. The stallion you see before you, in the table, is about to die."
Being Lunar Pegasi, the five mares appeared to accept this news with much aloofness. Internally, however, they all five were extremely upset, to say the least.Their father was going to have them kill him?
"This does not mean that I will die. Contradictory, yes, but for a purpose: the fluid in those vials will heal me, regenerate my body. I will no longer be the old, crotchety bag of bones that lays on this table. I will be young and healthy again. But, this procedure must be undertaken. In a moment, I will give you the signal to throw the lever. When I do, you must throw the lever and run from this laboratory. No matter what you hear, no matter your concern for me, no matter the screaming that will you will undoubtedly hear, you must not interrupt the procedure . To do so may well kill me. Do not return to this place untill three days hence. Do you understand?"
Somberly, the five mares nodded.
"Nocti, the dowel, please."
Noctilucent Terra inserted a cotton-wrapped dowel into his mouth, and he clamped down upon it. A moment passed, then he raised his head. He snorted, swallowed, then nodded to Moonlight Rose. The signal. She gathered her sisters and bundled them outside into the corridor, then kissed their father on the forehead and threw the lever. The very moment she did, she heard a rattle, a thunk and a muffled scream of pain. She was so sorely tempted to intervene, to stop the procedure and spare her father the pain that had just started, but she knew she mustn't. Without looking at him, she ran from the infirmary, pulling the door shut behind her.
Three days later...
The screaming, the terrible, horrendous, heart-shredding screaming had finally stopped.
The five had waited impatiently to see if their father's confidence in his calculations was justified.
They opened the door and entered the infirmary because it was now ruled by silence. And they didn't know if that boded well or ill.
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The Tales Of The Lunar Consort, Volume II
Part I, Sub-Part II: The Consort Returns As He Was Known
Part I : The Rebirth of The Children Of The Night
Sub-Part II: The Consort Returns As He Was Known
Three hours later...
The five mares surrounded the slightly-snoring stallion, fast asleep in the bed. He was... not?... Grandfather. Grandfather was a very old stallion, thin, emaciated, actually, due to his disease that he refused to name. He was so old that his mane and coat were both grey, almost white. The stallion laying in the bed had a sky-blue coat and a thick black mane. His body had filled out and was now filled with layers of muscle. The only thing that had survived the reversal from Grandfather to this stallion was the eye color. His eyes, once so cloudy with cataracts, were now scarlet-irised and clear, although very much dilated. The pain from the procedure, undoubtedly.
He'd been sleeping for three days now. On the third morning he'd shown signs of waking soon, and they'd quickly brought a veritable feast for both they and he to partake of. No doubt he'd be hungry... and Grandfather had told them to look after the stallion he'd apparently turned into, as he might very well need some help for a while. Disorientation, amnesia, many things he might suffer from. And they would care for him, because Grandfather had told them to.
The stallion groaned and shifted in the bed. Like Grandfather did when he had one of his nightmares. But they knew he was waking, not sinking deeper into sleep. Moonlight Rose stood by while her sisters retrieved the food they'd found, caught and brought with them from their house and set aside a portion for him, and the sisters took their share of the food and settled down to wait. Waiting was nothing to them; they'd learned much patience from Grandfather and had waited for many years.
Quercus Alba sat on a bed and stretched herself out on it lazily, settling down for a quick nap, tucking her arms behind her head; she was known to be quite lazy. Starlight Streak took her plate and retreated to a corner, savaging the food. Night Flight had disappeared to somewhere; she had seemed a bit bothered by something, and had probably gone off to alleviate it. Noctilucent Terra was on the opposite side of the room, exercising, the fitness junkie; two hundred push ups, sit ups and wing ups each. Moonlight Rose herself merely sat in one of the chairs that occupied the hall, throwing one leg over the other, content to simply watch the stallion.
He was not a small stallion, long in body and broad in shoulder. He was about six feet and seven inches in height, and looked like he weighed around two hundred and thirty-five pounds. Very muscular, his chest, arms, shoulders and back rippled with banded muscle, and his big, broad wings had powerful flight muscles. He was also quite decently... equipped , shall we say, with large, healthy, ovoid testicles, but that was neither here nor there. His face was, if not a terribly handsome one, at least somewhat attractive, features lean and angular; a heavy brow, scarlet eyes, chiseled cheekbones, a strong jaw. Now that she examined him closely, she saw that his face was almost identical to Grandfather's, just younger. Younger-looking, she reminded herself. More evidence to suggest that he was Grandfather.
She'd gotten so caught up in assessing him and comparing the two stallions that, when he moved, it took her a moment to realize it. It was just an inch, maybe, but he did move. Then he rolled over onto his back, stretched. Numerous bones cracked and popped, and the stallion blearily opened his eyes. The pupils instantly dilated, and the old-young stallion recoiled, arching his back in surprise and flinging an arm over his eyes to block out the painful light.
"AH!" he cried, startling an annoyed Quercus Alba out of her nap (the mare jumped out of her fur and landed on the floor of the infirmary, having moved a surprising distance). She scrambled to her feet, hissing, her wings flared aggressively. The stallion growled something unintelligibly and curled up in the bed, pulling the blanket over his head. Starlight Streak's head snapped up (she fallen asleep after her gorging)and she looked around, her eyes narrowing. Night Flight returned to the infirmary, a pleased look on her face, and trotted to a bed, smelling her hand and imagining that it was coated in a certain... stuff. Noctilucent Terra simply stayed where she was and continued her fitness-ing, entirely unperturbed by her sisters' aggravation.
The stallion continued to writhe beneath his blanket, until he cautiously poked his muzzle out from under it, scarlet eyes flicking hither and yon. Moonlight Rose nickered in amusement; he looked so foalish.
"Where..." he began hoarsely, then ended in a slight cough. "Where... where am I?"
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The Tales Of The Lunar Consort, Volume II
Part I, Sub-Part III: The Prisoner (He Who Would Embrace The Dark...albeit not of his own choice)
Warning : All text beyond this line is only notes for this story I had written. This story, and every other I was writing, is now cancelled, and while not be produced any further. Feel free to take whatever you like.
Part I : The Rebirth of The Children Of The Night
Sub-Part III: The Prisoner (He Who Would Embrace The Dark...albeit not of his own choice)
Canterlot Castle dungeons, Death Row,
Solar Blaze sat in his cell, awaiting his final trial. The disgraced solar guard had, to his shame, committed a terrible act. He was certainly to be put to death, but, alas, the due process must be observed. To this end, he'd long since accepted his fate. He deserved it; no stallion who'd done those things to that mare deserved to keep his stallionhood, much less his life. Admittedly, he'd been drunk off his flank at the time, and he didn't even recall having done it, but the evidence was, although circumstantial, very much bulletproof: his seed had been found inside that poor young mare. He'd raped her in a drunken fit of pique. She'd put out, teased him... that wasn't right, trying to justify it; there was no such vindication for Solar Blaze.
His lawyer had been to visit him and, naturally, there was nothing to be done; execution. Open and shut. He was guillotine-fodder. Now there was naught to do... but wait. Waiting for the end... Knowing that one is going to die and knowing that there is nothing one can do to stop or delay it... It can do terrible things to the mind of the condemned. They might break down, overwhelmed by the fact that death is literally right around the corner and no lock can keep it out, or they might start confessing, desperately wishing for an absolution never to arrive, or they might simply pony up and stoicly accept their fate, rightfully earned or not. The last of these is what Solar Blaze had resigned himself to doing. And so, he was laying back on his cot. Staring sullenly at the ceiling. Waiting for the worms.
A loud-ish scuffle came from the end of the hallway, near where Solar Blaze knew the sole doorway to be, and he raised his head from the cot for just a moment,
wondering whether it would break the monotony of the long, dark corridor his life had become if he were to look. He decided against it, and lay his head back down, ignoring the sounds. He turned on his side and let out a snort. Perhaps five minutes passed, and, although there were no footsteps or breathing sounds or clearing of
throats, Solar Blaze suddenly became aware of a presence at the door to his cell. He turned his head and nearly fell off his cot: A massive, muscular, sky-blue Pegasus
stallion was basically staring daggers at him with red eyes that seemed to almost burn, eyes that seemed to look through him rather than at him, yet there was little doubt that Solar Blaze was the newcomer's target.
The stallion's strange eyes took away the biting words that formed in Solar Blaze's throat, leaving him feeling like a piece of meat being inspected. The blue stallion watched him intently, then he opened his mouth to speak:
"Solar Blaze," he said, in a deep, drawling baritone, heavily modulated by soft, rolling vowels, his burning eyes looking the condemned stallion up and down. "Condemned to death for the crime of rape and aggravated assault. A once-celebrated member of Celestia's Solar Guard. How appropriate..."He said, almost as though
he was musing to himself. Then, abruptly, he turned his head to his left. "What do you think?" he asked quietly. "Is he sufficient?"
"This is not forgiveness for your crime. This is a punishment of another sort, and if I ever know that you've committed another, I will throttle you myself on the spot. Am I understood? I re-created you for one reason, and one only , and that is I want the foals to have your gift."
The Tales Of The Lunar Consort, Volume II
Warning : All text beyond this line is only notes for this story I had written. This story, and every other I was writing, is now cancelled, and while not be produced any further. Feel free to take whatever you like.
Canterlot Castle, Lunar Tower (Celestia's Sorrow),
Celestia sat in the closest chair to the long-dead fireplace. Her once-typical seat. She looked over at Luna's cold, abandoned seat and tears abruptly roared to her eyes. Sobs racked her, and she lay her head on her hands to cry. Pain, fear, regret, shame. The very moment she dissolved all the emotional barriers needed for a life of politics and let her tears loose, her Royal Consort, a Pegasus stallion named Thunder Strike, entered the room.
"...'Tia?..." he cleared his throat awkwardly. Celestia looked up, sniffling.
"You've, um, you've got a letter. Philomena brought it. She wants you only; she tried to bite me when I went to take it."
"Philomena?"
Philomena, bringing mail? Who got her to do that? Only a few ponies had ever known how to get her to deliver messages; the proud phoenix demanded her favorite food before she'd act as a messenger bird.
After a moment, Celestia whistled, and the firy bird flew into the big apartment, letter in her talons, inevitable Badlands Thwomp Rat in her beak. Celestia extended her arm, and the big bird settled on her arm, holding out one talon. Celestia took the letter, and the phoenix jumped up onto Celestia's shoulder and perched there.
Celestia marvelled a bit. When she'd taken it, she instantly known it was something important, just from the feel of the envelope. The envelope was of a heavy, cream-laid stock, not often seen, and it stirred memories in her mind.
"He used this stock," Celestia sniffed, halfway between sadness and shock. She read the front of the envelope. Written in semi-copperplate, that distinctive hand that she'd thought died over seventy years ago, was her name, "Celestia Faustsdaughter, SI". Her hands trembling ever so slightly, she brought the envelope to her eyes and examined the writing. Constant, middling pressure, overall significant slant of the lettering, laid on with an old-fashioned fountain pen. Every inch his writing.
No...
She flipped the envelope and her heart jumped up into her throat. The letter was sealed with something she'd never thought she'd ever see again. The Seal of the Lunar Consort, designed by him . She froze, struck dumb, and the letter dropped to the floor. Thunder Strike darted forward and took it up, opened it.
"'Meet me in the Night Guard barracks beneath the Castle?"" He read. "Who-?"
He was interrupted by Celestia rising from her seat, and striding past him.
"'Tia? What-?"
"Going to the Night Guard barracks. And before you say anything, Thunder, I know who wrote that letter."
"Who, then?"
Celestia did not immediately answer, just kept walking, trying to control the excitement and fear and astonishment rising in her breast. Thunder Strike followed her, imploring her to at least summon an escort. She resolutely ignored him. He pestered her incessantly until she snapped, spinning about, facing him, shoving her snout in his face.
"Thunder Strike! I am more than capable of defending myself. This stallion is no threat to me. Now leave me be, Thunder Strike!"
Thunder Strike recoiled, and Celestia turned and swept past him. Timidly, he ventured one more time, "Will you at least tell me who this stallion is?"
Celestia sighed, oh ye long-suffering. "Enoch. My brother-in-law... The Lunar Consort... Luna's husband."
Every Consort, Royal, Lunar or Solar, is, due to the very nature of their position, exposed and very privy to secret and sensitive information. Celestia had, after his disappearance, either destroyed (very rarely) or more often merely confiscated any and all information on him that she could find. So, it was natural that Thunder Strike knew that name and the immense power and authority and the popularity that the stallion had held. And, since his appointment as the Royal Consort to the Sun, Thunder Strike had tried to model his behaviors after those of the famous stallion. Of course, Thunder Strike was... shocked; Enoch's presumed death date was listed as September 8, Sol 50. The notion that the stallion was still alive, over fifty years after his death date, was patently ridiculous. but Celestia seemed dead serious...
The two walked in a thick silence until they reached the almost forgotten entrance to the Lunar Pegasus barracks beneath the Castle. These long-abandoned barracks had, since the Fall, lain hollow, dead and empty. The countless generations of ponies who'd called this place a home away from the Hollow were now mere figments of memory, and smacked of failure in the highest extreme. To Celestia, at least. This tormented her until the pair came into sight of the massive double doors. Doors which had obviously been cleaned, and one of which now stood conspicuously ajar. Celestia's heart jumped into her throat and began to beat in a frenzied rhythm.
Impossible...
The Tales Of The Lunar Consort, Volume II
Interlude - Celestia's Sorrow - Reflections
Warning : All text beyond this line is only notes for this story I had written. This story, and every other I was writing, is now cancelled, and while not be produced any further. Feel free to take whatever you like.
Celestia sat in the big wing chair in her brightly-painted study, musing. Something truly astonishing had happened earlier- she'd been alive for years almost immemorial, and seen countless strange, terrifying and confusing things, but this truly took the cake. A stallion who by all rights should be long dead and rotted away was alive. But it seemed that only his body had survived; what she could recall of his personality - and her memory was damn-near perfect, and augmented by the position of highest esteem her sister had held him in - had all but utterly vanished.
Once, before the dark times began, he'd been polite almost to the point of insolence, and he charmed nearly everypony who'd come across him. Now, he was very much colder than ice, and prone to anger, especially towards her. At least there was a legitimate reason for it towards her; she'd treated him with nothing but coldness and hatred, even going so far as to beat him because she'd wanted a punching bag. But it still confused her, because even then he'd responded to her abuse with nothing more or less than courtesy and indifferent politeness. This stallion had snorted at her attempts to engage him in conversation, laughed in her face, turned down her offers of company with no paucity of vehemence, requisitioned one of the vaults beneath the Castle and a large amount of scientific equipment, verbally lashed her nobles (which only served to rile them, and at her, too) and re-occupied the all but abandoned Lunar Tower. The Enoch of eld was dead... so who was this one?
Memories flashed through her mind:
Enoch's arrival at the Castle, and the fight that had ensued between she and Luna.
Enoch and Luna dancing at the Gala the year after he'd arrived, and the passionate kiss she'd witness'd them share at the end of the night.
The one time she'd walked in on them engaging in sexual relations, oh to love the Moon.
The night Luna's scream of ecstasy had shattered every window in the Castle (and her lover's eardrums) and how her (Celestia's) Guards had barged in, dragged him off her and fettered him, stark naked and very much aroused, in the dungeons beneath the Castle.
The lovely wedding ceremony in the Hollow and the Changeling sneak attack shortly after the kiss.
What he'd done the night she'd gone to check on Luna after he'd pleaded with her.
The inexplicable way Nightmare Moon had pushed him away from both her and the rainbow beam fired at her by the Elements of Harmony, sparing him...what? Imprisonment with her on the Moon? The sheer magnitude of raw magical power coming towards him?
The morning she'd awoken to find him missing, and the fear she'd felt when she'd realized it.
Celestia knew that this was a second chance, at reaffirming her rule over Equestria and resolving the numerous issues within her queendom. She also saw it as a chance for reconciliation with the stallion with whom she was now technically obliged to share her rule with. She'd install him as her high advisor, with the ability to overrule even Thunder Strike in his limited authority.