Sleep was yet again proving to be elusive.
The irony of his predicament did not escape the big red stallion as he tossed on the large, plush cushion. At his side, the delicate feathered wings of his beloved Matron of Dreams fluttered as she stirred. Big Mac stilled his movements. Luna would wake should he continue to flounder, and the Moon Sister had finally dozed for a much needed cat-nap. He nuzzled her neck softly. She made a sound of pleasure in her slumber.
The weight of her duties made his responsibilities at the farm seem insignificant. He felt no less strongly about Applejack, Apple Bloom, and Granny, but keeping Sweet Apple Acres afloat was nothing akin to being an integral part of Equestria's diarchy. Nor had her life been easy; a creature of silky darkness and sparkling milky moonlight, a shadow in the burning blaze of her elder sister...
Mac felt himself stir in a place he did not need right now. Sighing heavily, he rose from the bed as quietly as possible. It still felt unnatural to leave the farm; even after all these months, he was not used to spending nights with Luna in Canterlot.
“You go on an’ git outta here,” AJ insisted with a knowing grin the day before. “Ah’m not gonna be the one who keeps ya from yer filly friend. She might charge me with treason!” his sister had joked.
Was Ponyville truly as accepting of their relationship as they seemed? Or was it fear of the mare who was once Nightmare Moon that silenced their tongues? The thought plagued him, gnawing at his mind like a thousand hungry parasprites.
You worry too much…
“Luna…” he murmured, hearing her dreamy soft voice in his head. “You should be sleeping.”
I cannot sleep when my stallion aches with the weight of burdens not his own, Luna continued, the gentle melody of her tone a caress over his weary grey matter. To bed… come back,
my red one.
He looked over at her still slumbering form. She was stretched elegantly across one side of the decadently large, low cushion, her forelegs tucked beneath her head, her hind legs crossed at the ankles. Her wings were folded loosely at her sides, which rose and feel evenly with her breathing. The ethereal wonder that was her mane glimmered and shifted with a wind only it could sense. Mac leaned in and smelled its clean, just-rained scent. The peppermint tingly sensation on his muzzle always gave him chills. “Even if you were not a princess of Equestria,” he murmured against her ear, “you would be a princess to me.”
Luna sighed, her wings fluttering gently. The soft blue hue of her coat was shimmering with a light unparalleled in nature in the cool glow of the celestial orb she governed, its rays streaming in from the open balcony doors.
Alicorns were indeed beyond this world.
And this one wanted him.
It boggled his mind. Mac could understand so many things; he had written a thesis that had redefined the way magic was understood in Equestria. He could crunch the farm profits down to the last penny-bit and still manage to find funds for Apple Bloom to go to summer camp. He could rationalize sacrificing everything he’d wanted in his youth to come home and save his family.
So why could he not understand her?
In the face of all that stood against them—his mortality, his humble background, her immense power and infamy—Luna would hear none of his "nonsense," as she called it.
It wasn't nonsense, it was reason.
Big Mac scuffed a hoof on the marble floor. Luna's opulent chambers made him feel out of place, but he felt even worse when she stayed with him at the farm; it was no proper lodgings for a princess. She said she did not mind, that she loved the nights in the apple orchard, adored their moments beneath the large tree on the hill, but still...
Tired... he was so tired. His eyes burned and every muscle ached with exhaustion. Four nights now without sleep, and he refused to ask his beloved for a spell. The only way to correct the errors in his diurnal cycle were to address the worries that ate at him.
Solutions, he thought to himself, sighing. Perhaps too heavily, for Luna stirred again.
"Macintosh..." she murmured. Her voice was husky, thick with sleep. "We do not wish to ask you again to rejoin your princess in her bed."
"Luna—"
"Thou hast a brilliant mind, mine stallion, but the problems of Equestria are not thine to solve." She lapsed into Old Equestrian in her half-awake state. Big Mac smiled despite himself. "Worry on what thou can do, not what thou canst not."
"It isn't Equestria's problems I worry on."
"We love thee..." Luna said softly, almost a whisper.
Big Mac's ears stood straight up. Had he heard that correctly?
"Luna?"
She did not reply. He eased back onto the large round cushion, nuzzling her neck.
"Luna... my Princess...?"
Only the sounds of her even metered breathing answered him. Mac's cheeks were hot. Blood thundered in his chest, his ears, his thighs.
Love. She loved him. He'd thought so, but to hear her say it...
A tremendous yawn nearly split his head in two. The stallion blinked once, twice, and a third time, settling next to Luna, draping a foreleg across her delicate form, pulling her close to his chest. He could feel her heartbeat. Euphoria and exhaustion battled for dominance, and the latter claimed victory as the big red stallion's eyes closed for the final time that night.
Luna's horn glowed softly, and she smiled to herself, nestling back against Big Mac.
"Aye... We love thee," she repeated to herself.
