Author's Note

Pre-read by Lone Beast and Commander Darklight.

II: Let Us Assay Our Plot

I see what you truly desire, Twilight Sparkle…

The light of the sun filled the bedroom of the Golden Oak library, rousing Twilight from her sleep. She clung to the words that still rang in her head, protesting silently as the dream slipped away from her. It wasn’t really there, not like the first time; it was just her subconscious replaying the events over. Each re-enactment was maddeningly less clear, like an overplayed vinyl record, but the words were still there.

You want to lose, Twilight.

She pushed her head back into the pillow, trying to stave off the oncoming day; but, gradually, the sound of the birds outside her window and the itch of the sheets beneath her seeped into the cracks of unconsciousness, and the state of rest was unceremoniously ripped from her.

Twilight sighed. I can’t go on like this, she realised. I can’t get it out of my head… She flung the covers from her body and stepped heavily onto the wooden floor, walking groggily over to her desk. Atop it was an a piece of parchment; the words “Dear Princess Celestia,” written at the top and nothing thereafter. She stared at the paper, still unsure of what she intended to write next.

The events of that encounter had filled her waking thoughts all week; and yet she found herself unwilling to think on the matter. Somehow, her age-old recourse - analysis - could not help her. To think on the issue was to understand it; to understand the issue was, in some way, to be complicit in it. To not stop Luna was tantamount to accepting her offer.

She was Twilight Sparkle. She was the bearer of the Element of Magic, student of Princess Celestia, and a champion of Equestria - this much she was familiar with, this much she could take comfort in. But this new experience stood against all of it; stood against the virtue and the goodness she so often sought refuge in.

On the other hand, Luna had given her exactly the opening she needed. She could continue to fight - continue to be a hero, continue to be the one in the right. All she had to do was keep losing...

⁂

Celestia was late to supper.

It was not a rare occurrence - the sun princess was known for putting the well-being of her ponies over her own needs (actually, whether or not an alicorn required regular sustenance was not confirmed, but no-pony had yet plucked up the courage to ask ‘do you really need all that cake?’) and over the past week it had been occurring more regularly, as an increasing number of ‘urgent’ matters began to spring up in the Royal Court.

Luna sat at the dinner table, waiting patiently for her sister and reflecting on the events of the week. Her time of “moonlighting” as a private detective had proven fruitful - just a brief peek into the minds of the landed gentry had revealed a dozen insipid plots and - more to her interest - potential undoings of those plots. All week long, she had observed; but she had never intervened. Not since...

She closed her eyes. All too easily, that sight returned to her: her sister’s student, collapsed on the aetherial floor, utterly paralysed; her eyes wet with tears and her coat dishevelled and drenched in sweat.

It had to be done, she reminded herself. She would’ve never come out of her shell if someone wasn’t there to drag her along.

But what must she think of me now?

The answer came immediately. She’ll think me the villain, just as I wanted her to. The alien is less terrifying when it has a face; much less so when that face is not your own. To her, I am now an avatar of the sordid - an authority on all things licentious - a voice to listen to, and a hoof to guide her.

She was almost satisfied with that; but the nagging sense of doubt was obstinate. I’m justifying. Right or not… I presumed. I shattered her virtue, stripped away a part of her that she valued. Twilight Sparkle would be right to think me vile. Even if that was the point… she may now be even more repulsed by her own thoughts.

But she will be drawn to me. I could smell her desire, no matter how much she hid it… my goal was not wrong, only my execution. I defeated her; I should have waited for her surrender.

Luna realised she was very much speaking in two voices; both quite familiar, but one she was far less comfortable with. She hardly noticed her sister’s presence in the room until she had already taken her place at the table; and when she finally did, she saw that Celestia’s face held that familiar, warm patience - the near-imperceptible prompt that she was ready to begin.

Luna drew a long breath. “Celestia… I am afraid. I fear I have done something terribly wrong.”

Celestia’s brow raised slightly. “You speak of your endeavours with Twilight Sparkle?” Luna nodded. “I’ve not received any letters from her; so I would say she neither considers the case closed, nor wishes it to be so. If anything, I suspect she is waiting for you to make the next step.”

Luna shifted uneasily. “Still, I fear that I went too far.”

Celestia’s expression softened, but her speech became stilted, as though each word required a great effort to speak. “I suspect I am as much to blame as you are, Luna. I should have brought the matter to you independent of politics… but you know how I am when regarding this subject.”

“If I did not know better, sister, I would say you feared my night,” Luna jested.

Celestia visibly relaxed. “I do not fear it, Luna. But - for the thousand years I was its shephard - I could not bring myself to learn it as you did.”

A stillness settled over the room as Celestia’s words sunk in. Luna blinked once, then twice, disbelief in her eyes. “Sister,” she breathed, “have you been alone for a thousand years?”

Celestia closed her eyes and nodded. Silence fell once again, before the elder’s ears were pricked up by a muffled chuckling.

“We have both been quite foolish, I daresay.” Luna rose and crossed to where Celestia sat, silently relishing the role of mentor she now found herself in. “Do not fear to step on my hooves, dear sister. The day and night intertwine, do they not? At dawn, -” her eyes gleamed, “- and at twilight.”

Now, it is an extremely un-princessly thing to groan at a bad joke; so we shall say that Celestia did not groan, and that the timing of her long, descending release of breath was purely coincidental.

“Were these politics all a front, then?” Luna continued.

“Not in the least,” Celestia quickly asserted. “I am tired of the stiffness, just as I said.”

“And Twilight Sparkle?”

Celestia drooped. “I… I fear for her, Luna. I fear that she might never learn what I cannot teach her.”

Luna’s expression warmed. “Have you ever spoken candidly with her, Celestia?”

“I cannot… I cannot bring myself to tell her. To say that her perfect teacher was a front. It’s unhealthy, I know, but-”

“She will understand. She must know eventually.”

Celestia nodded. “I have already lost one student that way. I don’t want to lose another.” She looked at her sister, eyes pleading. “Tell her, Luna. Please.”

⁂

Twilight stood over her bed, staring down at the pillow as though daring it to make the first move. Her sheets had been ceremoniously made, and the library was silent. It was late, and she was tired. Sooner or later, the inevitable would occur.

She realised exactly what it was she was doing. It wasn’t as though she had wanted it - she had just hesitated for too long. Allowed her curiosity to linger, not quite wanting to extinguish the possibility…

Or at least that’s what I’m telling myself.

Even if she were to stay awake, she couldn’t avoid it. Luna hadn’t promised to meet her on this night; only to come to her dreams if she had not written in a week. Whenever she fell asleep, the night princess would be waiting for her.

Well, she jested, let us go quietly into that good night. And with that, she dropped onto the mattress, closed her eyes, and waited.

She didn’t have to wait long. The first change she was aware of was the shift from lying to standing, as though standing were as comfortable as lying. Then she began to hear that strange ambience, like a thousand stars cooing and shushing her; but this time the noises were conspiratorial and filled with mirth, as though relishing in what was to come.

It was warm - warm like a blanket; and ever so slightly muggy - the kind that causes one’s thinking to be ever-so-slightly slower - but this time it did not distract from the issue at hand. This is it, Twilight thought. This is it. Her eyes were shut closed, her jaw fixed, her head bent down in an act of defiance, her legs held straight.

For a long time there was nothing; then a soft clearing of the throat followed by, “Welcome back.” Twilight opened her eyes, and to her surprise, there before her was the same Princess Luna that had greeted her before. For a moment, Luna wilted under Twilight's glare, until the unicorn realised who it was before her.

“You’re not…” Twilight breathed.

Realisation flashed in Luna’s eyes, and she straightened herself. “I have been encouraged for some time now to employ the appearance of Nightmare Moon as a jest; to trivialise the image to myself and to my ponies. I had been under the impression that the image was… appealing, in some ways.”

Twilight was completely taken aback. Luna certainly wasn't wrong - the image had barely left her mind all week - but where was the alicorn that had assailed her?

“Twilight Sparkle…” Luna’s voice brought her back to attention. The night princess was looking her in the eyes, firmly but not forcefully. “Was I wrong?”

The question hung in the air for several moments. Twilight stared at the ‘floor’, finding herself unable to hold Luna’s gaze. Words failing her, she walked up to the night princess and placed her head under the taller alicorn’s muzzle. Luna drew in, letting Twilight snuggle up to her as she had before, waiting silently.

Finally, Twilight responded. “You were right about one thing… when I realised you’d won, it-” She swallowed. “I’ve… never felt like that before.”

Luna let out a breath she hadn’t been aware of holding. “My sister is always telling me that I must be more certain in my actions. That I must be sure that I am acting for the best. It is… difficult, in my line of work.”

“I- I think she’s right,” Twilight whispered. Luna paused, not quite convinced by the compliment; before the bit dropped. She looked down, and sure enough, Twilight’s eyes were closed, her head tucked into her mane.

“Twilight…?”

In an instant, Twilight scampered away. “I’m sorry! I-I thought…”

Her stammering was broken by the faintest of chuckling coming from the princess - if she were feeling especially cliche, a likeness to the ringing of bells would no doubt have come to mind.

“It seems there has been miscomprehension on all sides. Dear me,” Luna sighed. “I suppose we had better set the matter straight.” Luna set herself onto her haunches, then onto her stomach, motioning for Twilight to mirror her actions in front of her.

“I believe it is time we spoke candidly, Twilight; and not blurred the issue with talk of larger problems. I know that you find it difficult to speak of such things, so I will require no more an answer than ‘yes’ or ‘no’; unless, of course, you would care to elaborate. Is that acceptable?” Twilight - having taken her position - nodded, shuffling her hooves nervously. “Well, then: you feel that, as long as you have the choice, you are unable to indulge your base desires for fear of failing yourself or others in some way. Am I correct?”

“Yes,” the unicorn responded, with just a moment’s hesitation.

“And yet, you do feel these desires. Correct?”

Twilight’s head drooped. “C-correct.”

Luna shuffled closer, changing her clinical expression for one of as much ease as she could manage. “Twilight, would you like to kiss me?”

Twilight reared back, stuttering and stammering. “I- well, ah, I don’t-”

The princess allowed her non-answer to continue for just a moment before lowering her head, clearing her throat and putting on as authoritarian a gaze as she could. “Twilight?”

“Y-yes?”

“Kiss me.” Luna leaned in, pushing her lips to Twilight’s - and as she expected, though the unicorn first shied away and shivered, she soon stilled and leaned into the kiss, her tongue joining Luna’s in a slow dance around their mouths. Satisfied as she was that her point was made, Luna allowed the moment to linger for a few moments, observing her partner become slightly more relaxed; slightly more intimate.

When she drew away, the look on Twilight’s face put any lingering doubts to rest. The unicorn’s countenance was aflame with not lust, but barely-concealed longing - a look of awe and desire that once again gave way to timidness as her breathing returned to normal. A smile crossed Luna’s features, and she drew closer - but as Twilight closed her eyes in anticipation, the princess stopped, their lips just inches apart. It took Twilight a moment to open her eyes and recognise the daring gleam in Luna’s.

Slowly, hesitantly, she moved closer - and Luna moved back. Twilight mewled in impatience, before Luna thrust forward, catching her off-guard and locking their mouths into a frenzied kiss. How long it continued for, Twilight couldn’t quite say - when they separated again, her shoulders were rising and falling rapidly. Luna sat back, seemingly proud of her work.

“Did you enjoy that?” she asked.

The blush on Twilight’s face intensified. It was, of course, practically a rhetorical question. But that’s what this is all about. Figuring out where her boundaries are, and seeing which ones we can convince her to step beyond...

“Yes...” Twilight breathed, low and husky. A shiver shot through the alicorn at the sound.

“The journey of a thousand miles, as they say. That was the first step - what would you say to taking another?” Just as she suspected, Twilight went rigid. Luna suppressed a sigh. “I believe I have realised something, Twilight. You may correct me if I am wrong, of course, but I think you would find it more... shall we say, thrilling... were you to not have a partner, but an opponent.”

That time, Twilight truly hung her head in shame. A stream of apologies worked their way onto her tongue, but she was stopped before she could utter them.

“Twilight…” Luna cut in, her voice ringing with uncertainty. “Are you ashamed of this desire?”

It took a few seconds for the unicorn to compose herself. When she did reply, her breath came in gasps and sobs. “I- I shouldn’t want- why should I want to run, and fight… and not be able to…” She stopped, sucking in a breath through her teeth. “I shouldn’t want to do one thing and hope that I’ll fail. I want to act towards one goal while hoping that the other will come true… it’s stupid…”

“It is nothing more than roleplay, my friend - a game of pretend in an adult context - and it is not nearly as demeanable as you perceive. You yourself have seen how I take to it on occasion.”

It took a moment for Twilight to catch onto her insinuation. “Nightmare Night…”

“Indeed. I was quite taken aback by the - how should I say - tenacity of modern ponies to fill their roles. But I digress.” Luna leaned in once again, nuzzling the unicorn who still couldn’t bring herself to meet the princess’ eyes. “Twilight; I remind you that you are dreaming. None can possibly bear witness to this event save yourself and myself, and I would consider it a privilege to… guide you in such matters.”

Luna once again stepped closer to Twilight, waiting for the unicorn to creep backwards - but she didn’t. Encouraged, the princess lifted a hoof to run along her friend’s mane and down her neck, positioning herself just so that she could whisper directly into her ear.

“Putting aside all fear and shame, I would ask you this: consider our last meeting. Consider your struggles against Nightmare Moon; how helpless you were against her attack. How, for all your tenacity and resolve, you knew that inevitably you would be subjected to her sordid, wicked pleasure… does this excite you?”

The question hung in the air for a moment - neither pony moved, save for the steady, reassuring movements of Luna’s hoof. Finally - still looking at the indeterminate ground around them - Twilight sighed, and answered: “Yeah. I suppose it does.”

“One last question, then, Twilight. Do you trust me?”

For a moment, there was silence. Then, a soft gasp as the unicorn steadied herself. Then, almost inaudibly: “yes.”

“In that case…” and just like that, the voice in her ear was different. Clear and piercing, sonorous and full; but dripping with intent. Twilight looked up in shock to meet a pair of draconian slitted eyes, and a grin that bared a set of viciously-fanged teeth.

“Run.”