When friends are at your hearthside met,
Sweet courtesy has done its most
If you have made each guest forget
That he himself is not the host.
-Thomas Bailey Aldrich
It had been looking as though the end of your vacation might not be as splendid as you’d originally planned.
A few sightseeing stops and ill-advised gift purchases along the way to the country’s capital city had very quickly made a large dent in your funds, and the last leg of the train ride to Canterlot had you feeling more towards morose than excited.
Even if everything else went well, the most your trip would end with looked to be just one night in the city at a cheap hotel, a long day of roaming about for free and buying absolutely nothing, and finally boarding the train that night for a forcibly-uneventful ride home.
Morose was indeed the word that fit your reaction best when you looked out the window towards the towers and sweeping arches of Canterlot and found many of the more interesting portions obscured by a thin cloud hiding the ‘glimmering spires’ you’d so hoped to see sparkling on approach.
That said, it was hard to find a proper reaction to being interrupted in your search for a hotel that evening by a white stallion in gleaming armor, calling your name of all things and giving an unexpected bow. Your first thought might have been that maybe you had been misidentified, because it didn’t seem reasonable to think that this member of the royal guard had been dispatched to invite you directly to the palace itself at the peak of Canterlot.
And yet, this is precisely what he had been dispatched to do, and would accept none of your assurances that he was mistaken. His orders were, according to him, very clear. A little gruffly he had made sure to let you know that he didn’t appreciate the accusation that he would dare to have misheard or misread an order.
With the guard now firmly wearing a frown, you decided not to press the issue. He was very large after all, and was wearing real chainmail. You’d seen the videos of tourists harassing members of the palace guard and being put firmly in their place.
The stallion led you through the city at a more unforgiving pace than he might have had you been a bit more obedient about following in the first place, or so it seemed, and so you had little time to ponder why exactly you were being led to the gates of the palace itself.
The doors were still swung wide, and there were at least a dozen ponies in varying levels of better dress than yourself milling about them either coming or going. Few even bothered to notice your passing of the gate into the main antechamber with its towering and arched roof and the sweeping central staircase.
The stairs led to more important rooms and even more stairs, heading onwards into areas you normally weren’t allowed to go, but below and through doors surrounding this hall were many places that were perfectly public. Or at least as public as a royal palace ever is.
From earlier reading into travel brochures, you knew that on the left side of the main hall were two double-doors that would lead to a hearing chamber with a large dais, where one of the two diarchs of Equestria would sit and hear out the issues of her people. Everything from well-wishes to judgement was passed either way in that room.
Of course, you knew that this room was also where other official business took place, or one of the adjoining meeting halls, and it felt to you as though you might be brought there for some reason. After all, why would you be brought to the castle itself officially by an armored royal guard if not for some kind of official business?
Had you broken some law? Disregarded some capital-city custom?
The horrible feeling that you might have done something wrong would nag at you for a very long while.
But the guard did not take you towards the left. He instead gave a somewhat accusing glare across the hall at another member of the royal guard, who looked to have been in the midst of making a face behind the back of a pony you were sure was someone absurdly governmental and beyond your station.
And then he was taking you forwards, straight towards the sweeping staircase, unhesitatingly expecting you to follow him and towards the right wing of the grand hall.
Either you had done something very good, or very bad. Or the guard was wrong, and he was mistaken. Or you were entirely misunderstanding and following some random guard into places you didn’t belong. Or maybe you were-
The guard cleared his throat very loudly to get your attention.
“AH-HE-HEM,” he half-said and half-coughed. “Your quarters.”
Quarters?
The royal guardspony had brought you through two hallways towards another staircase, up this into an area you had no idea of the purpose of because it certainly had never been mentioned for the interest of tourists, and to a very heavy oaken door.
You didn’t have any room to question the guard as to what all of this was about; he made his move to leave without any further ado, and his grumbling made it clear he thought himself far, far too important to be guiding a pony to their room.
Your quarters? The meaning didn’t want to register with you.
It was hard to shake the feeling that you were someplace you shouldn’t be, pushing open the heavy door so that it silently swung inwards, and passed through.
The room was… lavish. At least by your standards. A small section of carved marble made a lovely place to stand just inside the door, but this quickly gave way to deep green carpeting; carpet that was so plush that you hardly wanted to step onto it. The furnishings in the room were almost all natural wood with minimal stain or varnish but with craftsponyship that was obviously well beyond your means of paying for.
It was certainly not lavish by the standards of a Canterlot native, but it was a nature-themed guest room in the royal palace… and this made it all the more odd to find yourself there of all ponies. In a room certainly not meant for you, with a bed so large that it seemed to be an ocean of overly-comfortable sheets and pillows in a rectangle from the wall. And near to that bed was your own heavy suitcase, clearly having been delivered here rather than to the hotel you had intended for it to go to from the train station.
Across the room was a balcony with large glass doors, both of which were swung wide and allowing a forceful draft of mountain wind to enter… which slammed shut the heavy door behind you from the gust, giving you a start as it closed with a tremendous BANG.
Were this a hotel, you might have received a stern talking to from a neighbor for the noise, but here… it seemed more likely that no one would say a word to you at all. Not for the noise, but because they obviously could care less who you were or why you were here.
So why were you here?
You could always simply trot down the stairs and ask one of the passing guards, but would they even know? As large a castle as this, would any random armored stallion happen to have some clue as to why a stranger had been brought to the palace and given a room?
There was also the possibility that this was a mistake and that asking may have the mistake corrected. You could end up with being thrown out, it seemed, if that were the case!
Perhaps letting a mistake be a mistake as long as possible might be the preferable option. After all, you were here with your luggage and had been called out by name to come to this very room. Nopony could possibly consider it to be your fault for enjoying the accommodations even if it were unintentional, right?
Right.
Crossing the room towards the balcony, you quickly confirmed that the deep green carpet was indeed just as soft as it looked to be; the fibers fuzzy and soft under your hooves and with enough cushion beneath that you felt your steps slightly sink in as though standing on grass and soft soil. An entirely intentional comparison, you’re sure.
The furnishings were seemingly intended for a guest with a great deal more luggage than yourself; a pony or otherwise with a wardrobe to choose from, jewelry to lock in a chest at the foot of the bed, a reason to stare for hours into the full-length mirror mounted to the wall opposite the bed.
Everything seemed just the tiniest bit dusty.
The carpet ended at the opening to the balcony with a slightly-raised lip of smooth white marble presumably to keep rain from making its way onto that expensive fabric were the doors left open in the rain. Luckily for you it wasn’t raining, and you could cross the wide balcony to the gleaming bronze rail on the far side.
Long before you reached the railing, you saw the city start to open up beneath you. Yes, beneath; instead of looking up at a castle as you had expected to do tonight, you find yourself instead looking downwards from a breezy perch, with the faint wisps of mist clearing in the dying light of the sun. Hundreds of feet below was Canterlot itself, the capital in all of its glory… and really, it was glorious by itself.
Most of the pictures of Canterlot you’d ever seen were of the castle you now found yourself in and peering down from, so this was a view of the city that you hadn’t yet seen even in pictures. A rolling field of rooftops, business and homes and little gazebos in little parks. You could make out the vague shapes and colors of ponies going about their evening in the cobbled and paved streets.
Over the breeze you heard a soft chorus of voices, indistinguishable from each other, rising from the channels and canyons of the structures below. Some laughter from one side, you thought. A shout from some stallion elsewhere to get somepony’s attention. The soft rattling of wheels on cobble or brick throughout.
From here, on a balcony looking out from a mountain, you could see the sun gradually falling lower and lower in the sky towards the west, with the shadows of other mountains below you deepening and starting to press outwards across the faint sea of green far below the city.
The sunlight flared very briefly before it was lowered behind the distant horizon, and with it vanishing the city started to sparkle to life in the night. Windows quickly brightened as ponies turned on their lights, and in the streets you could see the magical lamps on the corners glimmering in the deepening twilight.
You barely even registered, with this sight around you, that your ears now heard your name being called from behind you in a questioning tone, a new voice but vaguely familiar. You hadn’t even heard the door open or any hooves on the floor because of the carpet and the wind around you on the balcony, but a clear voice calling your name was easy enough to notice.
Turning to see who this was that had said your name, you were met with something you never thought you’d see; a very tall figure in the open doorway of the balcony, standing proudly and adorned with silvery jewelry that contrasted with the deep, dark blue of her coat.
“We hope that you find this to be acceptable?” said the Princess. Her presence was so sudden and forceful that it seemed as though words couldn’t begin to form in your throat in answer.
The Princess of the Night, standing not five feet away from you and looking down with a question in her eyes. It wouldn’t matter were you a small foal or a mighty draft stallion, she’d still stand far taller than you as she did now, clad in all the adornments of her station. In the twilight her mane and tail very faintly moved almost of its own accord, tiny sparks of light twinkling within the strands.
It was hard not to feel small, with a pony this big in more than just her height standing there and wanting an answer.
You found that all you could do was nod. How could there be any other answer?
“Good,” said Princess Luna very simply; it was hard to read her expression even with your surprise considered. Was she happy with the answer she’d received, was she simply neutral about it? She stepped forwards onto the balcony, the silver shoes on her hooves clicking dully on the marble.
“Please, try not to let your hooves slide from under you; we’d hate to have you fall,” she then said, and this time you caught a tone of amusement.
Remembering yourself suddenly, you realized that you were standing mere feet from royalty in her own castle, and hadn’t even given her a proper greeting. You put your hooves together and inclined your body in the fastest, arguably best bow you’ve ever given to somepony, which is what you were fairly sure was the proper means of greeting royalty. You’d never met royalty before, of course, how could you have?
The Princess inclined her head slightly towards you, her expression still very much even and unreadable; at least she’d offered a response, meaning you hadn’t made a fool of yourself.
And then the Princess lifted her left hoof towards you.
What were you supposed to do about this? Her hoof was close enough that you could see a distorted reflection of your own face in the silver of her mirror-polished shoe. It hung there, and you were keenly aware of the moments passing painfully and awkwardly as it seemed the Princess was waiting on some form of response.
You’d only ever seen ponies bow. What was the response to an offered hoof? You had a feeling that it would be similar to whatever you would do for a noble mare, but you’d never met one of those either.
You hoped that you were right, and leaned towards the offered hoof to place a light peck against it, thinking that you were absolutely sure that, that was something you did when greeting a noble mare.
You heard a sound that surprised you so much you couldn’t even register what kind of sound it was for a few seconds: Princess Luna giggled.
One of the rulers of the entire country and your Princess had just giggled in amusement at the response you’d given.
Lowering her hoof, the Princess had a grin cross her face that you’d never seen her wear before. “We’d intended for you to shake our hoof as is the more modern custom…” So yes, you’d been wrong. “...but we suppose that the older traditions are just as acceptable.”
You could feel heat rising in your cheeks in embarrassment at what you’d done. You felt an overwhelming urge to apologize but it was already too late; she’d pulled away her hoof and moved to stand at the railing beside you.
You wanted to ask her a number of questions, especially the all-important question about why you were even here to begin with, but the spreading redness of embarrassment across your cheeks and her own current silence staring out at the city below made you hold your tongue. If she was going to offer explanation, she’d likely do so, and asking anything of royalty was a little beyond what you considered your station. Even if that station had you only a foot away from her, standing on a balcony in the royal palace.
You realized that she had started speaking, rather softly; her voice sounded different when she wasn’t calling out in the tone of official decree as you’d heard a few times before. Quiet and clear as a still night, if you could permit yourself to be poetic.
“Though as much as I miss old traditions,” the Princess said, dropping the royal ‘we’. “I find that I much prefer my current home to the old. On a mountaintop you can see much more than just farther along the horizon; the stars are clearer as well.
“But how do you find this vantage point?”
The question was sudden, and for a moment you didn’t respond out of further surprise. Long enough in fact that the Princess turned her head slightly to look down at you, waiting for an answer. If she noticed your reddened face from before, she said nothing.
Quietly, you let the alicorn know that you very much liked the view. After all, you’d been staring out at it for some time before she’d arrived.
Princess Luna seemed pleased enough with this answer, her wings shuffling slightly as she returned to looking out over the railing towards the city below. “My sister certainly does have taste in architecture. And scenery, perhaps. She was responsible for much of the concepts eventually used to construct this city and has had much time to guide its growth. Though had I been able to provide input... “ she adds, a slight frown crossing her face with a momentary pause. “...I’d have said that she should have done without the lighting of the streets. Helpful, perhaps… but the light all too often also hides other things.”
It was cryptic, but easy enough to realize that she meant light-pollution hiding starlight. Of course, the Princess of the Night would be one to place a great deal of value on being able to see the stars.
You’d grown up with only one of the celestial sisters on the throne, as had everypony else. The old tales of course had always made mention of Princess Celestia’s sister, but after a thousand years such things very quickly become myth alone. Many ponies had believed that a Princess Luna had never even existed, and that it had been a story all along.
And then, not so long ago, among a series of other events… she’d returned. Since then, between the two, you’d always found far more interest in the nocturnal one of the pair. A thousand years of distance made for her having a mysterious nature. Unknown, secret as the night she called her own.
And it was all the more mysterious that she now stood next to you, speaking to you personally, here on a balcony. You knew next to nothing about her or her nature. Or her intentions.
“I had always wanted to do something about the Falls,” the Princess continued. You weren’t sure if she was speaking to herself or to you, but she quickly made it clear. “Though they were far fewer and smaller than the state you were able to see them in.”
How had she known your last stop had been the waterfalls at the base of the mountain? Your expression must have given away your question before you ever said anything.
“Your mane is still somewhat damp, dear,” she said in answer. “And it has not rained today. Clearly, you must have passed under the Canterlot Falls in a boat as many other tourists seem to do on their way up the mountain.
“When we resided in a castle to the south of here, my balcony faced this mountain. The Falls were something I’d always wondered about visiting but… alas, I never did. Either they have grown larger in the time since, or I have grown smaller.” She turned towards you again, a sudden smile crossing her face as she looked down towards you, standing to her full height. “Which as I am sure you could agree, is very unlikely.”
You momentarily looked down and across the Princess’ body; she was tall enough that your own head barely met the height of her shoulders. You’d met many tall ponies, but not quite as tall as this, and most of those examples of height were also of the thin or lanky sort. Princess Luna was not like those examples: even for her height, though not heavy-set, she took up a fair bit more space. And, you couldn’t help but notice as you were only but a foot away, much of that was towards her dappled flanks.
Realizing where your eyes had strayed you quickly returned to looking up at the alicorn, giving a nod of agreement in the hopes that she hadn’t noticed. If she had, she could quite literally have destroyed you, after all.
“Well, being as you are here,” Princess Luna started, saying nothing in comment to make you believe she’d noticed. “If you would not mind… I’ve heard that you’ve visited more than simply the Falls? The Cavern of Dusk?”
You were surprised again at the guess; you had been there, yes, as it was one of the destinations on the way to Canterlot. A day spent in a cave looking at crystals was certainly interesting but the souvenirs were the best part by far; pieces of the crystalline structures found within, which were a different color when seen by either sunlight, moonlight, or candle.
The Princess smiled, her lips tilting upwards enough that you saw them part to show a little of a toothy grin that was still unfamiliar. “There’s a sticker on your suitcase,” she said in response to your surprise. “A new one. My dear little pony…” she started, turning away from the railing and moving back towards the door. “...you’d be surprised at that which you may learn of another by merely being observant.”
You hoped she wasn't too observant; it was hard not to appreciate the retreating shape of her hindquarters.
Forced to follow to continue the conversation, you trotted after the Princess into the room, where she waited by the edge of the carpet for you to come in before igniting her horn. Her magic flicked out momentarily, pushing at the double doors and smoothly closing them behind you. “A bit too much wind at the moment,” she says in explanation. “But go on, if you would.”
The room had an area in one corner in which to sit, though not using chairs as most rooms had; instead there were very large pillows of some sort, a rich cream color to contrast with the green carpet; it was a very casual and comfortable little arrangement, but most of the comfort was lost because the room was a bit more cool than it had been before, with night having fallen and the balcony having been open… and because it was being shared with somepony who was quite literally one of the most powerful individuals in the world.
...laying on a large pillow and peering intently at you while listening to you begin to talk, so very surreally, about your own meager vacation.
And surreal it was. Strange to be here talking about almost missing your first train, having to pay for water at a diner in Manehattan, listening to street performers, and so on. By all accounts it was a nice week; so far adventure was too strong a word for it, but for a week-long vacation you had been enjoying it.
But certainly it wasn’t of much interest to royalty.
And yet the second ruler of Equestria sat not two feet away from you listening with rapt attention, and more than listening… she inquired. Sometimes she even interrupted, and had it been any other pony you might have thought this rude, but her further questions were still given answers.
She seemed most curious about the ponies you had met rather than the places you had been; she asked after names in some cases, or at the very least wanted to know how they sounded when they spoke. Did they have an accent? Were they slurring because they were drunk?
During this strange recounting of events, you began to wonder of something yourself. Here you were doing all the talking, and with Princess Luna’s curiosity it made you wonder on a question of your own.
Had she had many vacations? It was something you asked after yourself, once you felt as though you had courage enough to make a request.
The alicorn shuffled her wings where she lay, and it seemed as though, if you didn’t know better, the Princess looked slightly nervous. “...I am afraid I have not had the pleasure to do such things for leisure,” was her response in a somewhat apologetic tone.
She hadn’t? It seemed to you as though with the power she wielded, a mere vacation was easy enough to ask for.
“Yes, I appreciate the reverence with which you refer to my duties... but they are that: duties that must be performed.” As surreal as the situation was, it was easy to feel some sympathy for her when she took on a wistful tone. “Now and then some time away is possible. I have tried - and almost succeeded - in finding opportunities for a… ‘vacation’. But it seems as though each time that I find myself time to be alone… a pony needs me. When such time comes that I may explore and adventure… I must return to parts well known.
“And a thousand years is such a long time. Many places I had once wanted to visit no longer even exist, I fear. And many of those I would have wanted to spend time with are, too, long gone.”
You became very keenly aware, rather suddenly, of just how old this pony was. A thousand years ago, she was also doing as she did now in ruling alongside her sister, so far distant that her existence had almost become a fairytale. A thousand years.
When your great great great grandmother was an infant foal, Luna was still ancient. When your twenty-times great grandfather was withered and old, blind and feeble, this alicorn was even older still.
And yet here she was, two feet away from you, appearing untouched by the time that had passed. Her coat was smooth and unblemished; her body, if you were honest, without sign of thinning or sag from age; her mane still deeply, darkly blue without any hint of greying save for the silvery twinkle of what may as well have been starlight caught in the strands.
If there was any part of her that seemed to show her years at all, it was her eyes; she met your gaze each time you tried to look at them as though she knew when you were glancing, and in their aqua depths you found a strange coldness. Perhaps it might have been unnerving, the way she almost seemed to look entirely through you with calculation, but instead you found some subtle hint of sadness.
Your entire life was, by comparison, barely one percent -if even that- of the time that Princess Luna had spent in Equestria. She was as far as anypony knew, entirely immortal. And here she was spending time with you, of all ponies.
“I had, after a fashion, a lover amongst my own Lunar Guard,” she said thoughtfully, casually. “In a time long since past. I recall a planned outing to the very falls beneath this city that… never occurred.”
Your expression of surprise at this little venture of conversation brought a tiny smirk from the Princess. “It was hardly a serious affair; a relationship was not in our stars. But for some seasons it had been an interesting, intimate endeavor.”
Her tone quickly turned from joking towards… sad. Wistful. Longing. “And while I find forgiveness for my imprisonment, I find sorrow all the same in that the few ponies I knew in the time before are so far gone that… were I to search for their descendants, those I would find would number in the thousands and be so distant in relation that they may as well not have been related at all.”
It wasn’t the kind of thing that royalty discussed with just anypony. Had the public known that the Princess of the Night had taken towards a part of her own royal guard, even so long ago, there would likely be a journalistic uproar for the sake of sensationalism.
What had been their name? You asked for it out of polite curiosity, since she’d deemed you worthy enough to share that tidbit with in the first place.
Princess Luna only responded with another strange smirk. A teasing smile, and surprisingly a wink towards you. “That would be a story for another night, dear pony,” she said, deliberately leaving your curiosity to grow.
The alicorn Princess made to stand upright, her wings shuffling somewhat in reflex as she got to her hooves. Feeling as though she might be taking her leave with that last response, you got to your own hooves. You still had questions, though!
To your surprise, Princess Luna did not make for the door or offer any farewells; she trotted to a long chest of drawers against the wall next to the bed, and you watched as she ignited her horn and very carefully began to remove her silver shoes, placing them by the dresser, with her crown following and being placed on the unstained wood.
Noticing your curious expression, the Princess responded with a sidelong glance. “They are surprisingly uncomfortable,” she said in response. “And being as I will be wearing them for a fair period of time tonight, most likely, it would not do to tire my hooves this early on.”
As her crown left her head and was laid to rest on the dresser, her previously-animate mane fell naturally flat against her neck and shoulders, the dim light that had been shining around its edges going out, though the faint sparkling of what could well have been glitter remained. So then, perhaps her crown was magical? For a Princess, it would make sense.
“And, speaking of my own responsibilities taking priority,” she continued, shaking her head slightly to let her mane fall into place before turning about and passing you. You followed just behind her, still curious as to what she was up to. “...it appears as though I have allowed myself to neglect one of my most important duties! How could you let me do that?”
The alicorn glances back at you as she opens the door to the balcony again, only one this time around, and gives a teasing grin.
You give a shake of your head and deny any responsibility in having distracted her from any of her duties. At least not that you knew of, or on purpose.
Leading you outwards from the room and onto the balcony, Luna actually paused for a moment; she glanced back, waiting for you to catch up with her expectantly, and you had the inkling of the idea that she intended for you to see something.
You asked about as much, wondering what it was she intended.
“Watch, if you like,” was her only response, alongside a slight smile.
Creeping your way out onto the marble, it struck you that it had grown far colder in the time since you’d last stepped out. Then, it had been twilight and the sun had barely gone, but now it was properly night. The wind had died but the chill in the mountain air had grown.
Above, following the Princess’ gaze as she stood on the balcony near to the railing, the deep black of the night sky was a different color entirely from what you were used to. Deep, dark blue rather than the color of ink, scattered with hundreds of glimmering sparks. More stars here than you’d ever seen before, shaded with pale bands from even more distant lights.
On a mountaintop, even one with a city astride it, the sky was more open than anywhere else to viewing unimpeded.
“You can see why I prefer our new home to our old,” you heard the Princess quietly mutter, and being called out of your mesmerization you realized she was standing beside you, looking upwards.
You gave a silent confirmation, and though she never looked she seemed to know you’d given it.
“But, what is missing?”
Confused as to what she meant, you queried for her to explain.
“You came here to Canterlot to see the sights, yes?” she asked, though her tone didn’t leave much question that she already knew she was correct. “...so then, my little pony... let me hang the moon in the sky for you.”
In a moment, a strange sensation started to fill you. From your hooves upwards with a tingling like the hairs of your coat standing on end from more than just the chill. Looking upwards as you were, you watched as the alicorn’s horn tipped itself with a tiny spark of white, twinkling like a star itself.
The strange sensation grew, and with it came an emotion that you weren’t sure was entirely your own: exhilaration.
Luna’s wings raised slowly, the one nearest brushing past as they flared upwards as though to take flight, feathers spreading. The light from her horn grew brighter alongside a faint trilling sound, the climbing hum of gathering magic.
The spectacle was muted but shockingly forceful: at the edge of the horizon a sliver of silvery-white growing into a small curve on the edge of the sky, rising upwards. With the stars as bright as they were, you saw faint, almost imperceptible ripples of twinkling flicker out across the field of lights above as the moon rose at the pony’s command.
Steadily it climbed in the sky, lighting the balcony brighter than a lamp with cold, clear white. Clearer than daylight, if not as bright.
You realized that the Princess had been holding her breath only when she released it, and her magic as well to fade out, that strange and unearthly sensation dropping away from you as though it were liquid running from your coat, leaving behind the stiff coldness of the night air.
Until, that is, you felt the warmth of the alicorn’s lowering wing press across your back, so soft you’d momentarily thought it a blanket, until you realized the alicorn was actually covering you carefully with her own massive wing.
Surprised, and perhaps slightly more than just surprised, you looked upwards to her; as if sensing your gaze she met it, offering a smile that could only be one of gentle adoration.
“You looked to be cold, dear,” she said quietly. “I would be a very poor host indeed were it said that I had let my own guest turn ill in my care.”
You were grateful for the warmth, of which there was plenty to spare in the long feathers of the alicorn’s wing, but you couldn’t help but feel redness spreading once more across your cheeks at the gesture regardless of her explanation. And to make matters worse, the Princess shuffled her wing, settling it more closely against your back and to your side, covering you skilfully. And even worse than that, at least for your rising blush, to the opposite side you felt further warmth from the press of her bare coat against your own, the softness of her flank against your own and the rhythm of her breathing.
Trying to distract yourself from the sensations, and answering a burning question that had pestered you since you’d arrived, you quietly asked the Princess of the Night why you were her guest at all.
She was quiet for far longer than you expected her to be, and you wondered if you’d said something wrong.
“Tell me, dear… what are my duties?”
It was a strange and surprising question; how could you presume to tell such a powerful being as this what she was responsible for? Yet her eyes, seeing into and through you, pressed for an answer you forced yourself to give.
Clearly, as you had seen, raising the moon. And ruling over Equestria with her sister.
She smiled, giving a tiny nod. “A part of it, yes, true. But there is so very much more to ruling a nation than to simply rule it. Royalty is after all, not for the highest upon high… but for the greatest of servants. I serve to raise and lower the moon, yes. But what else?”
You weren’t quite sure yourself, other than a supposed tidbit of myth saying that-
“There is, of course, safeguarding the dreams of ponies under my wing.”
So then, not a myth.
“Which does take many forms, most often of which being… rather literal. But not always, as in many cases it may also be abstract.” The Princess paused, looking upwards at her work in the risen moon. “So who is it that is under my wing at the moment? In a not abstract way?”
That would be yourself, her wing settled like a blanket across your back and her side pressed to yours, keeping you warm. You gave her that as an answer.
Luna turned back towards you, leaning her head lower to offer a kind smile. “Your first visit to Canterlot is something you’d been dreaming of for a long time,” she said. “Coming here before had always been impossible; no time, or no money, or no choice of your own in the matter.”
You felt your lips part to speak, but could hardly manage to say anything. You wanted to ask how she knew but, being who she was it was clear that she would have some way, some how, to know.
“And finally… here you are,” the Princess looked away and faced the city below, where ponies still toiled in the night with the moonlight to light their way. “But it had not been what you dreamed at first, am I not correct?”
You hesitantly nodded.
“All too often the wishes we wish, when granted… fall so very short of the dream, as dreamt. And it is a fact that I, as the Princess of Dreams as well as the Night, am so keenly aware of.
“So then, dear pony,” she continued quickly, turning to look down at you again and leaning close to almost whisper. “What kind of Princess of Dreams would I be, were I to let reality crush your dream when it is within my power to fulfill it?”
So it had been Princess Luna who had made this arrangement, by her own whim entirely. Or so far as she explained it. But why?
You queried her for the reason, though expressing your thanks, as to why you of all ponies would be worth taking aside for this?
Warmth blossomed suddenly against your lips, stealing your breath as you felt soft contact. Warmth, slight damp, a brush of air from a tiny breath allowed to escape, and then after all too brief an instant the Princess had pulled her head back to smile warmly down at you. “Perhaps,” she said only barely above a whisper in a tone you knew to be teasing. “...that is also a story for another night, my dear little pony.”
You found you couldn’t breathe for a moment, as though the alicorn had stolen the air in your lungs with the soft touch of her lips against your own.
Your heart thundered. If your cheeks had not already been crimson with the touch of her wing across your body they would be now.
You swallowed, trying to find your voice.
“Dear, you had seemed to have no issue offering a kiss of your own not so very long ago,” Princess Luna chided playfully at your utter lack of coherent response. “Is it all that upsetting that I should seek to return it? Or,” she turned her head to smile at you sidelong. “...or is it that I did not aim for your hoof?”
That, and other things. You managed to regain your breath and came up with a tentative answer; no, you hadn’t expected it.
“...but neither did you protest, it seems,” she pressed.
It was hard to protest when you didn’t mind at all. In fact if you were entirely honest with yourself, not that you could tell her, you secretly ached somewhere in your chest for it to have continued for just-
Warmth. Pressure against your lips as her own met them a second time as if responding to your desires. Your eyes went wide again at the touch, though hers seemed lightly closed. Tentatively, carefully, you brought up the will to respond in kind, your own eyes drifting closed as you leaned forwards into the touch.
With your returned pressure, you felt the princess’ lips move against your own, her head tilting ever so slightly and a brief tickle of her breath escaped to brush against your lips, tickling your nose with a tiny scent of peppermint.
Was she taking charge? Were you? You didn’t know what was proper or what she was wanting.
You found your answer when Luna’s lips slightly parted, a faint tug against your own as she drew away with an audible parting of your muzzles, and then a returned touch just as warmly and intently as before.
Then more intently. More deliberately. You returned in kind, eager to continue, and were rewarded with a barely-audible sigh of breath from the princess as she parted her lips even further.
For a moment, the kiss seemed to deepen into a more passionate one, the faint taste of the mare’s lips and breath seeping into yours along with her intense warmth…. and then all at once it stopped.
You opened your eyes, dissatisfied with the abrupt end in contact and worried that you had done something wrong. You found your gaze met with hers and with her smile rather than a frown, a small and almost knowing smile.
It took several long moments, still stunned by the sudden passion, to realize that the Princess’ gaze was now even to your own.
Your eyes followed downwards along her neck to glance at her body; her shoulder met with yours in height, her wing still rested along your side and still drew you close, your flank was drawn directly against her own bare hindquarters with the warmth of her soft flank pressing against you.
Your ears caught a barely-stifled giggle from the princess, and you met her gaze again in time for a playful widening of her smile. “I would be a poor host to simply let myself tower over my guest. You were craning your neck to reach me, dear.... and I will not have it said that I am anything but a gracious host.”
She’d matched your size? How?
She seemed amused by the question, but perhaps a bit impatient with it. “For a pony who just saw us raise the very moon into the sky, you believe this beyond our means?”
Fair enough.
Luna leaned towards you again, and her cheek came to rest alongside yours. Her coat was smooth and soft to the touch, and you leaned back into the contact to allow her to give, and return yourself, a gentle nuzzling of her face to yours. She tilted her muzzle, catching your chin with a light peck of her delicious lips. You almost managed to catch them yourself, to enter into that passionate embrace again… but once more you were denied as she pulled away.
She stepped forwards, her wing sliding off of your back and her side sliding along your own as she circled you, meeting your gaze the entire time. Around your front to separate you from the railing you had once been peering over, flicking her long tail against the flank she’d been resting against, and stopping on your opposite side.
“Coming?” she asked expectantly.
You didn’t know what she intended exactly, but you knew enough to know that you had no other option but to follow the princess. You wouldn’t have picked any other option.
You turned to go after her as she started to make her way towards the open doors of the balcony, and with her facing away and with your now very much riled interest, you couldn’t help but find your gaze darting down to the slow side-to-side motion of her darkly-dappled hindquarters as she walked.
Though Luna had somehow matched your height, her proportions had remained very much the same as before: generous. Her long stride accentuated this with each step as the full roundness of each cheek of her rump flexed in her movements, coupled with a hypnotic sway to each side that she’d left out the last time she’d walked away from you. A sway that swung her tail to each side, curling a bit about her legs in each step but never giving any visibility to what you knew had to lie beneath.
You swallowed nervously as you realized that she’d stopped walking in the middle of the balcony, and that nervousness turned to rising embarrassment as you then realized that she had not been moving forwards for a few seconds in fact. You’d been so caught up with following the motion of the Princess’ hind end that you had almost bumped into it.
And yet her motion continued. Stationary on the marble balcony you watched her flanks slowly tip side to side, long before she ever actually looked back at you with a chuckle of amusement. She’d noticed your gaze, and it seemed she hardly minded it. In fact, she was teasing you, letting you admire her.
“Something the matter, dear?” she asked. “If we had any courtesy, we’d let you know to pick up your jaw before returning to your room…”
Even with her deliberate teasing, you found a muttered and embarrassed apology making its way from your lips.
“Oh? You do not seem to be very sorry at all. Besides… was it not your goal to see the sights?”
You caught a slight darkening of the Princess’ cheeks as redness started to creep over them, but anything else you might of noticed was put aside as the mare took a slow, deliberate step backwards towards you, and then another half-stride, and the full shape of her royal, dappled flanks was suddenly pressed against your chest.
Again, it was her warmth you noticed first, a stark contrast to the cool of the night air. The next consideration was her softness; where many ponies had little to speak of in terms of roundness, her royal backside had a generous amount to press against you, deforming in shape at the pressure.
The suggestiveness of the mare, the deliberate teasing in response to your attention, her almost casual contact in such an intimate way… it was impossible to not notice that rising tension between your thighs. Growing arousal won out over questions, and instead of pressing for information you instead pressed back at her contact in return.
You leaned against her hind end, raising both of your forelegs upwards and wrapping them about her lower body to support yourself, and to give a slow, eager embrace around the fullness of her royal flanks, feeling them squish against you. Princess Luna sucked in a quiet breath but didn’t protest, instead her hind legs straightening slightly to arch her lower body upwards into your touch.
Almost forgetting exactly who you were cradling close, you leaned downwards to touch your cheek to the warmth of her flank, nuzzling intimately at the dappled curve next to the moon cutiemark she bore.
“O-oh…” came a little sigh of surprise from the princess at the squeezing about her rear. “...do continue…”
You didn’t need her invitation, but you were happy to follow it. You pressed your cheek more intently against her flank, nuzzling with intimate adoration at her bare cutiemark and enjoying her warmth and her scent. She smelled of some kind of fruit from her shampoo, just under her own natural scent. It seemed almost eerily familiar though you didn’t know how or why, like smelling of the jacket of someone you know and recognizing their scent.
But slowly rising was also the slight scent of the mare’s own arousal; her tail might cover her, but pressed with your cheek to her bare flank it was easy to detect her excitement with your nose.
Your forehooves slide across her flanks, stroking downwards from her lower back towards the front of her legs to press in front of her thighs, against each stifle, lifting backwards. Instinctively, Luna let her hind legs relax and slip sideways, widening the gap between her hooves and thus her flanks. You could feel her tail pulling out from between her and yourself, flagging slowly upwards.
Sensing her intent, you nuzzled only ever closer to her rump, sliding away from your firm contact to allow yourself the access she seemed happy to grant you.
“N-no,” she suddenly managed with a quiet gasp, startling you out of your attentions when her tail curled back down. “Not… on the balcony, dear.”
You looked towards her and she gave a slight frown, her cheeks darkly stained with a heated blush. “I am not aiming to offer every pony in flight their own share of sightseeing, after all...”
You gave an apologetic smile, which she returned, and very reluctantly released your firm embrace about her royal rump. You expected her to move towards the entrance to the room, but instead she remained, gathering her hooves beneath herself properly and looking back at you expectantly.
“...or are you planning to stay outside?” she eventually asked, motioning with her head for you to go first.
You wasted no time in heading onwards, and as you passed you felt a sharp nip against the full of your own rump as you passed by the princess, making you jump and look back at her; only a playful smile was your response.
Once inside, the doors were quickly shut behind by the alicorn, who gave a slight nudge against you to urge you further onwards. Your heart beat faster as you realized that she was nudging you so intently towards the large, tan-sheeted bed.
With no small amount of trepidation you crossed the plush carpet to the bedside, aware that the mare was following close behind. It seemed clear what she was intending for you to do, but still you questioned it, wondering if you were somehow mistaken.
The Princess of the Night could not actually be intending to be intimate with you. Or, as it seemed, intending to be passionately intimate with you.
Right?
As you hesitantly raised your forelegs to start to clamber your way onto the bed, you felt yourself being suddenly and firmly shoved forwards with your hind legs still on the ground. Surprised, you looked back and found the alicorn princess mimicking your own earlier embrace, wrapping her forelegs about your hindquarters and pressing herself close, gripping about your rear and pressing her chest against your rump.
“I returned your kiss, dear,” she said with a tone that was nothing but suggestive. “...I had best also return your ‘hug’, wouldn’t you agree?”
She gave you no room to argue the point…. not that you ever would have, with Princess Luna herself leaning close to press her own cheek against your flank, grinning up at you as she adoringly nuzzled your bare cutiemark just as you had done to her. And then, she went as far as to exceed what you’d done; her lips parted, she smiled, and then her teeth parted as well to let her tongue extend and press against your bare flank, giving a slow and intentionally lewd lick against your mark.
Surprised by the warm, wet contact of her royal tongue, you took a moment to notice her royal hoof venturing between your thighs, sliding upwards along the inside of your legs and coming to rest with clear intent against your groin, pressing directly at your arousal.
“...and it seems,” she says with an attempt at an innocent tone. A tone she failed to keep her excitement from coloring. “...that our guest is enjoying our hospitality.”
You were, without a doubt. The earlier sensuality and suggestiveness, her firm advances now in stark contrast to the image you’d had of the ‘royal ruler’ before… her touch against you both with her body and with her hoof… it drove your arousal higher and higher until you were sure she could feel the heat from between your legs at your need, and you could feel your breathing grow heavier.
You nodded in response, and the response was rewarded with a press of the princess’ lips in a soft kiss against the inside of your thigh.
Luna pressed more insistently at your hindquarters, and used her forelegs to lift you upwards, urging you to properly get onto the bed, and not a moment after she was guiding you to lay down on your back while she remained off of the bed herself.
You felt even more embarrassed for a moment at this compromising position, fully exposed to the princess not inches away from your very obvious excitement… but you felt no small amount of pride as she smiled, admiring you without any sign of disapproval, and finally returned your gaze with a reassuring wink that seemed a bit unlike her.
But wasn’t everything in the past half-hour a bit unlike her?
“I know that it may be difficult,” she said, returning her forelegs to a similar position about your hind end, embracing your flanks and resting her forehooves against your bare, exposed belly with your groin only inches from her. “....but please do try to relax, my dear? I have every intention of ensuring that my guest is very well taken care of.
“As I have said: I am nothing if not a gracious host…”
If she saw your nod, she didn’t show as much; she was already leaning closer, inching so very close to the space between your thighs. You could feel her breath caressing you, almost feel her gaze admiring you… though neither mattered much once she leaned close to place another kiss, just as eager and passionate as the last kiss you had shared, directly between your thighs.
Her lips pressed against your sensitive flesh, as adoringly as though she were kissing at your own, remaining for what seemed too short a time before withdrawing and placing another kiss in a slightly different place, each slow and deliberate.
Her every touch sent a tingle through you and straight up your spine, and just as she said you found it hard to relax, or even to stay still. Kiss after loving kiss pressed against you, before finally she moved on to a parting of her lips, her tongue extending to slowly drag across your arousal with deliberate firmness.
Your hips involuntarily arched into her touch as her tongue withdrew, followed by a soft little giggle from below you; you resigned yourself to be administered to by the attentive mare, resting your head on the sheets and unable to keep a soft whimper from escaping your throat as her tongue returned with another slow, hungry lap against you, curling towards the end. You felt a thread of your fluids trailing from your arousal to her withdrawing tongue this time, and squirmed as you heard the princess smack her lips.
She was enjoying this. And you were very much enjoying it.
Princess Luna teasingly pursed her lips, blowing lightly against you, before returning to her ministrations with tender care. Another slow lap of her skilled tongue against you, pressing more insistently with each journey upwards. Sometimes, her licks were accompanied by the warmth of her lips, the caress of her breath; gentle kisses and suckles to your desperately sensitive arousal and no signs of wanting to stop.
Each eager and lewd slurp of her royal tongue drove a tingle of pleasure and excitement into you and up your spine to your neck, lingering along your lower back and sometimes forcing an involuntary but eager moan from your lips. And every sound you made in pleasure only spurred on the princess to more eagerly attend to your needs.
Eventually, that sharp jolt of pleasure refused to entirely die away; it grew at the base of your spine, urging you to arch your hips needily into the loving touch of that wonderful tongue and adoring muzzle, only growing stronger when your realized you could hear Luna letting quiet sighs of satisfaction at your flavor escape with every other breath.
The tension built, slowly, rising higher and higher up your back and into your chest. You knew that sweet release was starting to near, slower than had you been attending to your own needs yourself, but you could tell that this was to be so much more satisfying.
“That’s it,” you heard Luna muttering in a slight pause. “...go on, dear.”
You couldn’t help but pant, lifting your hips with each hungry slurp of the princess’ tongue against you, pressing into her attentions, your thighs trying to squeeze together but stopped by her hooves holding them apart to prevent herself from being held still.
That tingling started to bloom into more, rising up your back and through your body. Higher, hotter, deeper, with lick after careful lick…
You’d wanted to stifle yourself but had no time as a hard moan forced its way from your throat, all of that pent up energy pushing outwards from your core to your entire body, down your limbs and up your back, your hips pressing upwards in sweet, satisfying release as you finally came.
The princess hardly seemed content to let you settle down; her tongue and lips were attentive, pressing against you, knowing just how to tease you to drive your release onwards. Even though you were sure you were making no end of a mess, she seemed intent on doing her best to make sure that some of it was contained. You could feel her attending to the surge of sexual fluids, feel her collecting whatever she could, feel her throat contracting as she gulped now and then…
On and on and on she drove you, squeezing you close and trying to keep your sweet climax at that very peak… but even a Princess couldn’t drag on your release forever. You felt a warmth suffusing you even in the cool of the room, throughout your whole body, finally satisfied and sated.
As your body started to come down from the deliciousness of release, exhaustion took its place. Before you even knew what was happening, warm darkness had taken over with sleep.
And dreams.
. . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Your first semi-conscious thoughts were to consider the dull aches in your shoulder and lower back.
This bed was far too soft; no support.
In passing, you thought about why a hotel would have such a ‘luxurious’ mattress when all too often they all seemed to be too hard to sleep on.
...and then, with flashes of recollection, the events of the previous night came back to you in your bleary state. You very quickly forced yourself into awareness, despite the aches and pains.
You were lying in the middle of an expansive tan-sheeted bed, in a very nature-theme-oriented guest quarters. Your belongings were still on the floor next to the bed, one of the pillows knocked off the mattress beside them, and from the blue-curtained doors to the balcony you saw morning light streaming in to slash a line of white across the carpet.
There was no sign of Princess Luna. She was nowhere to be found, her belongings were gone from the dresser, and you found the room silent save for your breath. Checking beneath the sheets when you threw them off, tensing in the cold morning air of the room, you found that you’d left something of a stain where you had been laying.
Had you been dreaming?
You had to have been; it seemed, even half-awake, ludicrous to believe what you saw in your mind as memories.
You hoped that you would not have to explain to anyone about the state you’d left the sheets in, and managed to make your way out of the bed, throwing the sheets and comforter back up to hide the spot.
So then, a dream. A very sexual and very satisfying dream. A dream you very much wanted to make sure you remembered for… later... purposes.
But it seemed that part of this wasn’t a dream; here you were in the royal palace still with your things, with no sign of a clock to tell you what time it was and how long you had slept in. So then you had been invited here, and if any part of your dream was to go on, it was not a mistake. Clearly if you had been left here all night without being disturbed, it was meant to be so.
Right?
You pulled open the door a bit hesitantly, looking out onto the landing. You saw nopony, but you could faintly hear voices in the distance, echoing on the stone walls. You resolved to find out the reason you were here if you could.
Closing the door to your ‘quarters’ behind you, you made your way down the stairs to the lower hallway, recalling vaguely the direction that you had been brought. You were about to continue along that path in an effort to find the main hall, when you heard voices from the opposite direction, further along the hall. A mare’s voice. Two?
Curious, you followed the sound along the hall, glad to have sunlight streaming in through the tall windows to warm your coat.
“So far nopony else knows,” said the voice. It seemed very, very familiar save for the tone. “Though I don’t honestly see why.”
“Maybe they are wanting it to be a private ceremony?”
This voice made you pause; you recognized it immediately as that of Princess Luna. Hurrying a little further you reached the end of the hall, where it entered a long chamber with a fountain in the middle and other branching hallways, peeking curiously in.
Within, walking side by side, were both of Equestria’s rulers. With polished shoes and gleaming crowns, they looked every bit as regal as could be expected, standing much higher than any other pony.
Princess Luna looked just as you seemed to recall her looking; dark-coated and adorned with silver and blue, though in the daylight her mane didn’t sparkle nearly as it seemed it had before.
Princess Celestia, the much more familiar ruler of Equestria, who had been alone on the throne for a millennium, was larger in person than expected, much like her slightly shorter sibling, and her coat gleamed white in the sunlight from the tall windows and her multi-hued mane shifted about of its own accord.
They were seemingly alone, speaking to each other and approaching the corridor you yourself were in.
Princess Celestia chuckled. “I seriously doubt it. Shining wants to tell the whole battalion. I think it’s because he hasn’t officially proposed. Or she hasn’t, one of the two.”
“She has not?” asked Luna incredulously. “Tia… do…”
“Oh, it’s rare, but yes… sometimes mares are the ones to do the proposing. And knowing my niece… well, she’s the sort to take things into her own hooves. Especially concerning romance.”
“Niece!” Luna exclaimed, before hushing her tone slightly. “I swear I shan’t be used to these… new family members.”
The sun princess snorted, which was not a sound you had ever heard before. “Just wait until she has foals.”
Luna seemed to look a little dismayed by this thought. “Oh dear heavens… would this make me… a great aunt? Correct? Tia, I don’t know if I’m ready to... be old.”
“...sis,” chided Princess Celestia. She did not continue.
Wondering what they were talking about, you found them almost upon you when you finally realized they were heading to the hallway you happened to be in. Panic surged through you as you straightened up, torn between bolting and staying put.
“Oh,” said the Princess of the Sun upon taking note of you, having been about to round the corner and stopping to look you over curiously. You had never been in Celestia’s presence before, and to say that she was an imposing figure would be an understatement: your head barely met her shoulder, and even away from the window her coat seemed to faintly gleam from sunlight.
“Hello,” she then said with no mention as to your eavesdropping, tilting her head. “...and who might you be?”
Clearing the lump in your throat, you managed to get yourself into a respectful bow, perhaps the second-best you’d ever done, introducing yourself.
“A pleasure,” Princess Celestia responded, inclining her head in response. She seemed used to such nervousness. “As I’m sure you’ve guessed… I am Celestia. If I remember right, you’re… my sister’s guest?”
“Yes, that would be correct,” interjected Princess Luna, stepping up beside her sister in support of you. “I see that you have managed to survive the accommodations made for you. I am sorry that the invitation was so abrupt. It… it is alright, yes?” she then suddenly asked her sister, turning and trying to confirm something.
“Luna, the palace is as much yours as mine. I’m not going to tell you not to have ponies be our guest here.”
Princess Luna seemed relieved. “...good. It has been a very long time since I have had any guests of my own, I was… worried.”
The Princess of the Night turned back to you and smiled warmly, giving a nod towards the corridor from where you’d come. “I know that you are not staying here in Canterlot for very long… but I can at least try to ensure that you have ample opportunity to see what it is you came to see. It is a wonderful city, after all, for sightseeing.”
Oddly, she raised her left hoof towards you. “I may not often have guests… but no pony can say that I am not a gracious host.”
With some amount of fluttering in your stomach, you placed a more confident peck of your lips against the offered hoof, smiling back up at the alicorn.
