A Moon in a Box

Chapters

A Mad Moon in a Box
Truce
Progress

A Mad Moon in a Box

Vibrant stars flickered in the dark-blue space, basking any object nearby in multicolored light. For some time, there had only been two colors, white and smokey gray. But with the return of the shepherdess of the orbs of lights, the Dreamscape was no longer a hollow shell of its former glory. Triumphantly, ponies could now rest easily and vibrantly with more colors than the rainbow itself.

It had been with nostalgic pride that Luna had surveyed the Dreamscape so long after her unfortunate absence. Oh, her return to Canterlot had been quite the fanfare. Her sister, Celestia, wouldn't have had it otherwise. But if there was one thing that never changed, it would be politics and the masks that accompanied it. Here, however, ponies lay bare and they were her responsibility, her subjects. Their protection in this realm was consequentially hers.

Filled with renewed purpose, Luna had swept over the Dreamscape to join on a hunt. Celestia had done an admirable job taking over Luna's duties, but she lacked the finesse and skill to take on a Nightmare properly. Nightmares were tricksters and would latch onto ponies' smallest fears, which made Nightmares exceedingly difficult to banish without excessive force. Hence, all Celestia had been able to do was to smother the Nightmares into muteness, unable to hurt her subjects but still latched onto ponies' fears.

With military precision, Luna had pounced on any smokey gray light and ripped out the Nightmare contained within, letting out the pure light of a pony's hope and ambitions to sparkle in the Dreamscape once more.

It had been hard work, but simultaneously it had also been the first real hard work for Luna since her banishment. It was thus why she now stood proudly watching over the field of sparkling colors with a smile on her face. It had been a long time coming but she nevertheless felt the joy of being free in her own element. Free from the Nightmare that had possessed her in her moment of weakness.

A weakness she had allowed, a weakness unpunished. She would not let that happen again. Celestia had not deemed it necessary to punish her for it, but Luna was a different mare. If not punished, then at least she could atone. To work on never letting that same weakness crop up again. To do that, she would need discipline. Banishing Nightmares had seemed like a good start.

With her work done, however, she felt it necessary to see how much had changed. The masks of politics had told her she was in ponies' good books, but she knew better. Surely there were those out there that looked down on her, if only for bringing Nightmare Moon down upon them. But at the moment, those she was most worried about were the thestrals. Their association to her might have led to their carrying a stigma when Nightmare Moon attacked. They certainly had kept their distance from her after her return.

Unfortunately, many of them served as Lunar Guards and were thus currently awake, save for workaholics who had been ordered to rest. She had found a few of them, more so than expected. She suspected they were frightened of what the Solar Guards might think of them. A thestral's appearance was known to occasionally put off other ponies. Now that Nightmare Moon had been proven to be more than just a legend, the thestrals would naturally want to keep their distance and prove their loyalty. Apparently, working harder than it was healthy was their way of dealing with the social pressure. Or so Luna thought, anyway.

If only to keep up her own penance, she decided she would find a way to help bring the thestrals back into ponies' good graces, to ensure they were not to be feared. She knew just the way. If what Celestia told her was correct, the upcoming Nightmare Night would be an excellent time to reintroduce and reeducate ponies on thestrals, if only in small numbers—she knew ponies were notoriously skittish.

Nightmare Night had originally been an unofficial celebration of Celestia's victory over Nightmare Moon, complete with burnings of effigies and stories meant to scare off ponies as cautionary tales. Luna had at least been grateful for Celestia turning a festivity of scorn to one of harmless fun. Soon, she would have her own perspective on it.

As the night was coming to its end, Luna made one final checkup of the Dreamscape. Colorful lights of great contrast glittered before her eyes. Not a speck of gray was withing sight. She contemplated on indulging herself for once, if only for a job well done. Something small, like enjoying a foal's dream on the sidelines.

There were plenty of foals to choose from, but as school time approached, she had to be quick. The closest foal's dream emitted a hazelnut-brown color. With a skip, she dived inside and appeared over a meadow as an inaudible pop reverberated the Dreamscape. Green grass and yellow flowers stretched onwards to the horizon. Wisps of clouds floated lazily above her.

It didn't take long for her to spot the earth pony colt making exaggerated jumps from the meadow. He reached up higher and higher with each jump. He reminded her of her younger self, whose only desire had been to reach the sky when her wings hadn't been fully developed. Agelessness made it easy to find oneself drowning in nostalgia. She had wondered how Celestia had managed it the past thousand years.

She kept on watching as the foal was reaching higher and higher beyond the clouds. Perhaps he aspired to pilot a balloon? Or perhaps reach even farther out? The moon had been the farthest ponykind had gone. If only its last and only occupant hadn't been—

Luna shook her head, not desiring to go down that path. Not now, not here. She looked back up at the colt, his silhouette slowly appearing before the sun. And growing bigger. Bigger and bigger, it didn't stop until the colt eclipsed the sun, casting the meadow and Luna in darkness.

Luna was confused.

Then the world shook. Luna watched with widened eyes as the Dreamscape collapsed before her, revealing nothing but a dark, cramp, oblong room. She was lying on the floor, she presumed, her back and neck bent uncomfortably for her to fit in it. The ceiling was low. She could've sworn it would crash into her any second. The walls were rough, not quite like stone but not like parquet floor either. Her long legs were struggling to fit inside the room, bent to not break through the floor and walls. She noticed the air felt more and more choking and warm.

Her heart raced.

"What?"

***

Sebastian was not having a good day. This had been the third internship he had been denied. One he desperately needed to complete his bachelor's degree in Software Engineering. The economic downturn wasn't helping him either. With only a bit more than a year's worth of right to study, his plans were falling apart.

He sulked as he walked the rest of the way home from the last appointment, not having the money to afford a bus ride home. It was going to be a long walk. His family had been helping him out financially to pay for his rent. His student allowance had dried up and the housing benefits were simply not cutting it.

Five kilometers in, his legs were feeling the burn. At least his claudication was getting better. All the walking had helped his overweight lifestyle. But it wasn't paying him any bills, thus he merely filed it away in the 'Good, but meh' mental file cabinet.

The sun had already set and the temperature showed. His dark-blue fleece jacket held away the cold amicably. He couldn't wait to get home and have something in his belly, even if was a day-old tomato-tuna stew with macaroni. The slop was cheap as hell and filled the gaping hole hunger left, but eating the same food day-in and day-out got old after a while and would make you desire anything but that. The alternatives were premade meatballs or fish fingers or some other poor man's meal. If it could be made in bulk, even better. He had, however, sworn off instant noodles years ago. That way lay only broken dreams and despair.

The winds started picking up. Just perfect. As if losing his dark-gray mildew-infested straw fedora, trilby or whatever it was called, wasn't a bad enough prospect. He had had it for years since he moved out of his parents' to study. It looked silly and stereotypical and someone would probably call the fashion police just to prosecute him at the Hague for the sheer genocide of the fashion-aware, but dammit it was his and he liked it. Besides, it kept his long hair from getting in his face and he would rather be caught dead than to be seen wearing a hairband.

He was on the last stretch as the winds reached gale force, his black sweat pants swaying in the winds. He was getting really tired from all the walking. Desiring to know the time, he reached down with his hand into his pockets and brought out his ancient Nokia 6700 Classic, which replaced his prehistoric Nokia 1100. It was well past nine pm by now. His black farm cat would be furious from the lack of food and he knew he would pay for it.

He lambasted the long distance he had to walk. If only employers weren't situated hours away from the residential area. At least when walking. He swore he would one day force the industry to spread out better.

Unfortunately, as he placed the phone back into the pocket, a particularly strong wind knocked his hat off. He startled and flailed helplessly after it but only achieved in knocking it farther away. He quickly picked up his pace and chased after it, cursing his poor condition, as he hoped one of his few prized possessions hadn't fallen into the nearby river.

As he reached the crest overlooking the riverbank, he looked out into the darkness with hair flinging into his eyes. Barely, he could spot the hat had landed in a nearby rose hip bush. He calmed down, joyed that his hat had survived. He quickly knocked on the nearest tree to stave off the omnipotent Murphy. A folly, truly, given the definition of omnipotent, but maybe the dread god would take heed and show Sebastian some mercy. Or at least delay the god's amusement, like his apartment suddenly bursting into flame.

As it turned out, Sebastian reached the bush without issue and grabbed his hat, holding it close to him like a fragile child. It had been saved. Now he just had to worry about his cat going on a rampage.

Resting on the crest he had come across, he noticed the wind had died off to the usual nightly breeze. He noted it as strange, but then again he was living near the coast. Weather could be crazy, like that one time he had been promised open skies but on his way to solve bureaucracy issues he had found himself drenched in a torrential thunderstorm. His other fleece jacket still smelled of being drenched, no matter what brand of laundry detergent he used.

Deciding to move on, he continued down the river path, figuring it wouldn't make that big of a difference. Oddly enough, he hadn't seen any of the late-night dog walkers he usually expected to see. The river path was quite popular. He remember walking his own dog before cancer got the better of it. The path had almost always had people on it at this hour but now it was empty, save for a cardboard box to the side of the path.

He noted it odd that someone would leave a box out here. It wasn't like the city had any problem with homeless people. He paid the box no further mind and walked past it.

A slight movement was caught in his peripheral vision. All he could see was the box, though. He figured the wind was picking up again and he was not going to risk losing his hat again.

Just a few steps forwards, he now heard thumping noises to his right, slightly behind him. He didn't see anyone or any animal. Just the box. As he stared at it further, he noticed the box hopping forward ever so slightly in a periodic movement, the thumping following in step.

With a deadpan look on his face, he silently praised the powers that be that the box seemed to be sealed up. He quickly deduced the box wasn't a cosplayer. Not that the city had any relevant convention centers to begin with. Not that he knew anyway. Determined, he put on his best no-nonsense face, broke off a branch from a nearby willow and approached the box.

Using the perfect agility and adeptness of an overweight mid-twenties man, he slotted the branch in-between the top cover and opened the box from a distance, or so he hoped.

Out of the box burst a dark-blue... thingie—he wasn't sure what—gasping for air. As the thingie stopped moving, the details got clearer. Wings, horn and an ethereal mane blowing in a silent wind.

What, Sebastian's brain noted before shutting down.

"Foul beast!" the thingie shouted in an all-too familiar voice. It was decisively staring down at what was clearly a mortal foe. "Thy scheming hath been foiled! Thy folly of gobbling up the Princess of the Night hath been thwarted!"

What. Sebastian pinched his arm in a split-second decision. Nope, not dreaming, buddy. That left drugs and insanity. As the air started to pick up again, he held onto his hat as he watched the Luna-mirage rise into the sky. Dark stormy clouds manifested in the sky and even the moonlight darkened.

"Now, crumble neath the Wrath of the Night!" Her eyes were glowing like burning magnesium. "Have at thee!"

Just as he wasn't sure what he was seeing, he jumped as several bolts of lightning struck the box. It was on fire now. And yep, that was smoke he was smelling. Either he had tossed off his teetotaling ways and gotten his hands on the best drugs on the market or he had clearly lost his mind. He couldn't be lucky and just get depression from his economic woes, nope, it had to be full-on, pure insanity.

As the Luna-hallucination lowered herself onto the ashes of the box, she proclaimed with a hoof reached out, "Huzzah! Victory at last!" and struck with the hoof the remains of the box. "We smite thy smoldering ruins!"

Sebastian decided there was only one course of action to save his fragile sanity. He strengthened his grip on the branch and slowly sneaked forward.

The Luna-hallucination struck a determined pose. "Now, to find thy co-conspirators—" She stared flabbergasted at her surroundings. This was clearly not her bed chambers. She stared down her downed opponent with renewed fury. "Even in death, thou hauntest us.

"What Tartarian and Discordian bastard lovechild of a nightmare is this, to which thou hast taken Us?"

Why she was expecting an answer, Sebastian didn't know. He still had a thing to do, in order to be certain.

She continued staring at the ashes as a rumbling noise echoed in the distance. She glimpsed something fast moving, something bulky with a metallic sheen. "What art these metallic beasts that make such an infernal noise? No matter, thy infernal nightmare creatures will not best—"

Poke.

Luna flinched as something tapped her back. Not waiting to be undone, she twisted around and saw the most hideous thing. It appeared to be a furless diamond dog crossed with a minotaur, but dressed in strange clothes and a hat. It was taller than she was but also wider and its legs bent it ways that shouldn't be possible. Its face was a pale beige and flat with what appeared to be a considerable brown beard running down the sides and below the face. "Who dareth touch Our Royal back—"

She didn't get to finish that question as the creature poked her again. She clearly noted he was wielding a branch. A weapon perhaps, but foolish. She was about to retaliate when a beige paw, talon thing poked her on the nose. Her Royal nose.

"Cease thy prodding, foul beast, lest I smite thee as well!" she snarled.

"Holy fuck, you're real," the creature spoke, bizarre amazement in its voice.

Luna's ears folded at the foul language. "Watch thy tongue, creature, thou art speaking to—" It was then it dawned on her. "Wait, thou speakest?!"

See, Nightmares didn't speak unless attached to a pony and only then, they could only speak to those inside the pony's dream in the Dreamscape unless the pony was possessed. This meant either two things. A Nightmare had latched onto her, or this was not the Dreamscape. Considering she recalled the Dreamscape collapsing, the latter was far more likely and thus this was clearly a creature not from Equestria. Unless Celestia had been withholding information.

Sebastian, of course, was at a loss for words. A pony, a real-life talking pony from a cartoon, found inside a box. That was something you'd only see in fan fictions and yet here it was. Princess Bloody Luna in all her glory.

Thankfully, he wasn't raving mad for ponies and thus wasn't full of glee. No, he'd like to think he was a rational man, albeit rationality had been thrown out the window when the literally impossible was standing before him. Still, there had to have been rules that had allowed this to happen, because making sense out of chaos was what humans did. And one of the rules he knew still applied was politics.

"Shit," he breathed out, not caring the slightest about the princess's twitching eye. He had shit to do. "Hey, could you, like, you know, repair that box?"

Luna stared in bafflement. "Box? What box? Who art thou?! What art thou?!"

Not wanting to stick around for long, he picked up the pace. "Sebastian. Human. Also, that box," he noted by pointing at the ashes.

Luna's gaze followed where the finger was pointing. She blinked, not once but twice, before bringing her gaze back up again. "'Twas a box?"

Sebastian gave her a sagely nod.

Luna eyes found the nearby rose hip far more interesting and narrowed in contempt. "Who dareth put Royalty in a box?!"

Sebastian wasn't boarding that train of thought and rolled his eyes. Sighing, he wanted to wrap this up. "Yes, yes, blue-blooded mare. Questions for later. Just put that box back together, alright?!"

Luna glanced back at him, still miffed about the lack of an honorific. "For what purpose?"

Sebastian merely glanced around in slight nervousness. "Reasons."

Turned out, Luna wasn't having that and stared unamused.

"It's important, I'll explain later," he told her, sidestepping a length explanation. "Trust me on this."

"We do not," Luna deadpanned.

He pursed his lips in thought, thinking of a way to quickly settle this predicament. A few seconds later, he found one. "I'll make you some food?"

Luna almost looked insulted. "Thou thinkest bribing Us like peasantry—"

It was at that moment, her stomach decided to betray her and gurgled loudly. Her stay in the box had been longer than she thought. She scowled at the traitor, before looking up at what must had been a smirking face. Honestly, it was difficult for her to tell.

"Fine," she settled, "but We expect food worthy of Royalty!"

Sebastian grimaced with a sidelong glance. "Yeah... outside my paycheck I'm afraid."

Luna snorted in response. "Then thou willest make Us food as though thy life depended on it!"

"No promises."

Luna stepped away from the box slightly and worked the magic. A pale blue shimmer erupted from her horn as the ashes begun to reassemble themselves into her previous prison.

At the end, she sighed. "There. Thy menial task is done." She turned to face the creature. "Bring Us food at once—"

She never finished that sentence as Sebastian pounced on her, shoving her back into the box. It wasn't a fairly large box and he was surprised she was able to fit in it before. Still, if it worked once...

"How darest thou!" Luna shrieked. "Unhoof Us at once!"

He should have seen this coming. Thankfully, he had closed the distance fast enough that whatever leverage her leg strength had was virtually nullified. With a hand underneath her muzzle, he also managed to point her horn away. He didn't trust science to contain that one. Finally, her wings were already compromised by the box.

"It's for your own good, Luna!" he shouted in vain.

"Thou art marehandling Our Royal person!"

Luckily, he was heavy enough that he could force her back in and seal the box. It didn't look pretty, but then again it didn't have to. Luna was furious, however, and started bucking. Or at least what could be classified as bucking when all your legs can move only a total of two centimeters.

"Let Us out!" The box managed to muffle her shouting somewhat. "We have endured terrors uncounted in this Tartarian cage!"

He breathed deeply as he stared at the box in bewilderment of its capability to contain an alicorn. "You have survived the existential dread of a solipsistic nightmare on the moon for a thousand years. You can survive the box for a while longer."

"We will put thou in a box! See how thou likest it!"

He facepalmed. "Look, I'm just taking you somewhere safer than here. Once there, I'll let you out, we'll have a nice long chat and lay down some ground rules for your potentially indefinite stay here." Up until the heat death of the universe, or so. Fuck do I know if your agelessness carried over like your magic did.

Inside the box, however, Luna gasped. "Slaver!"

"Not what I meant!"

"Brigand! Marenapper!"

"Only temporarily! Now hush and stay quiet, okay?" There really ought to be dog walkers passing by soon.

He struggled to find a sure grip on the box, so he hoped a fireman's carry was enough. It wasn't easy.

"Fuck, you're heavy."

"'Tis a lie! Lies and slander!"

"Oh, grow up. I'm not physically fit, alright? Besides, I'm pretty sure the Cake Monster Celly's heavier than you are, Luna."

It was at this point that something clicked inside Luna. And it wasn't good.

"How dost thou know Our name?" If this was a creature not from Equestria—or its known neighbors for that matter— then how did this creature, this human, know of her? It wasn't like Celestia had spread the knowledge of Luna's existence around. Especially after Nightmare Moon and that was a thousand years ago.

"I'm sure you'll find out on Saturday," he said. "Suggest you seal off a part of your sanity before that though, for safety's sake. It gets freaky."

"We demand an explanation now, creature!"

Yeah, I'm not having that. Not now, not here. "Later! Trust me, it's easier this way. To explain and for your sanity. Now quiet before you make a scene."

Of course, reverse psychology was a thing for ponies, apparently. "Oh, is that so?"

"Luna, so help me God, I will pluck your every feather and tickle your horn with them until my last dying breath if you don't shut up!"

She gasped. "Thou threatenest to torture Our Royal person?! Cruel and unusual punishment, forsooth!"

"Luna..." he said through gritted teeth.

Let it be known, Luna whinnied like a pony of her stature. Anything else was naught but lies. "Fine. Have it thy way. Do thy worst. Our spirit wilt rise to haunt thee every night!"

Sebastian praised every moment that remained silent. Especially when a dog walker did pass by. He got a few stares but nothing more.

As he reached the apartment complex, he realized he had made a big mistake. A huge miscalculation in his planning that no optimization software could save him from. See, he lived on the third floor. He was overweight, out of shape, and with a luggage that—while surprisingly light for a pony of her size—was fucking heavy. And there was no elevator.

It went about as well as one could have expected: resounding heaving and cursing. At some point, he reached his door. He had against all odds survived the most terrible ordeal in his life yet. With a use of his key, he opened the door and dragged the box in before closing the door and collapsing on the floor.

"Finally." He regathered his breath, searched for his second wind, before standing up again. Then he realized something.

"So, um, Luna, mind telling me why you didn't simply teleport? Or blast the box apart?"

The silence was deafening.

"You forgot, didn't you?"

"N-No?"

Rolling his eyes, he sighed. "And here I thought it was only Twilight..."

"'Tis not Our fault! This box is clearly made of teleport-blocking material. Magic-blocking, even!"

"It's a cardboard box, Luna. Besides you had already blasted it apart with your god mode."

A moment of silence reverberated. "W-We know not of what thou speakest! 'Tis clearly foul trickery!

"AND WE ART STILL IN THE BOX!" she shouted in the Royal Canterlot Voice.

He figured she was bound to wake up the whole neighborhood at this point. "Alright, alright, gees. I'll let you out, just be quiet."

And so he opened the box. Big mistake. A dark-blue roaring rampage of revenge emerged from the box and tackled him to the ground.

"Hey—"

He didn't get much out before a armored hoof was pushed against his throat.

Luna stared triumphantly at her foe. "Now, beast, thy doom is at Our hoof—"

"Meow."

Luna stared blankly at the black cat sitting in the hallway.

Oh great, he didn't burn down the apartment, Sebastian thought.

Luna, however, was focused on the apartment itself, before turning her eyes to her captive.

"What manner of torture chamber is this?" she asked in bewilderment and let off a smidgen of the pressure on his throat. Just enough to speak. And breathe.

"This is my apartment," he deadpanned. "Welcome to the Man Cave, Luna."

"'Tis filthy!" She blanched at the littering dust and detritus on the floor.

"I wasn't expecting guests?" He was already dead man walking anyway, right? What was the worst that could happen?

Luna shook with unbridled fury.

He gulped. "I'll go clean it up."

Author's Note

So. Apparently some mad ponies thought this was worth writing. What do you guys think?

Let's see what kind of madness I can squeeze out of this.

Truce

"Were thou trying to kill Us?"

"Luna, put the knife down. You're being irrational."

"Princess Luna, thou brigand. And We art perfectly rational."

The night had only just begun before this brigand, this human, had shown his true colors. Marenapping was just the tip of the iceberg. Cruel and unusual torment was just a stepping point. Humiliation and marehandling of a princess, a diarch no less, was just an appetizer. He clearly had planned regicide.

"I didn't even know ponies acted like that," the brigand spoke under his breath, his eyes glancing away from her terrifying gaze.

Not silently enough for the Princess of the Night, who narrowed her eyes as she inched the kitchen knife closer to his throat. The knife was glossy in splotches, that the Princess was certain. What it was covered in though, she could not tell. Poison most likely, a just taste of his own medicine. She'd investigate later, if only for the sake of expanding her alchemical knowledge.

"Meow."

Ah yes, then there was that. The Night Terror. The evidence of that one's attempted regicide lay bare on the Royal Flank. She would deal with that one in time.

The brigand commanded the Night Terror with a whisper. "Not now, you'll get dinner later."

Luna, of course, was not pleased to hear that as she reared up and pushed and held the brigand against the door to what she could only presume to be an armory. The knife was dangerously close to slitting his throat.

"Not you, Luna!" His eyes widened at her silent threat. "Goodness no!"

"A likely story," she retorted with snarl.

"He already has his own food! It's in the box! The purple one!" He pointed to a shelf in the kitchen. A purple cardboard box with the picture of a gray cat lay open.

With a flick of her magic, she levitated the box over to her and tilted it slightly. Rows of... gray something filled it up halfway. What those gray things were, she wasn't sure. The brigand called it food. Luna was not that gullible as she turned her attention back to her adversary.

"Thou callest that food?" Her skepticism was palpable.

"Processed food in a plastic bag, relatively cheap and hopefully nutritious enough." He put on a hopefully deescalating smile.

Luna was not satisfied. "Plastic? Such nonsense."

The brigand did not look amused. He breathed in deeply with closed eyes before coming up with his next foolish excuse. "Polymerized hydrocarbons or hydrocarbon derivatives." He pleaded silently that Equestria had at least heard of organic chemistry.

Then again, this was Luna. She was a bit behind.

"Dost thou take Us for a fool?"

"No?"

"We have studied with and under the great minds throughout the ages. We have discovered knowledge and secrets beyond thine imagination.

"Thou speak of nonsense, pure and simple, and We have grown tired of thy digression."

The brigand sighed. "Look, I know this might be difficult for you, Princess, but you're a bit, um..."

"A bit what?" Her patience was really wearing thin by now as she stared into those blue eyes of his.

"... Scientifically delayed?" He smiled again.

She stared and stared and while she didn't possess her sister's millennium of experience of reading faces, she had spent enough time on the battlefield of yore to know the look of fear in one's eyes. Normally she'd be glad to know her opponent feared her. But then again, her sister had recently been... persuading her to look at all possibilities. Still, fanciful stories make for cheap excuses to escape justice.

His silence had left the ball in her court. "We have been brought up to speed by Our sister on Equestrian advances."

"And it never crossed your mind that Celestia might have left out details or that nations more advanced than Equestria existed?"

"Ha!" she declared as she returned to all four hooves. She stood proudly with her muzzle pointed up into the air. Her wings were extended as she took on a stance worthy of royalty—with a front hoof raised and everything. Her eyes were half-lidded as they bored down upon the peons, reminding her lesser audience of their insignificance. That was to say, she looked like a stuffed up animal in a museum. "Equestria is the cutting edge of the scientific, thaumaturgical and liberal arts! There is no nation greater nor more advanced than ours."

Hook, line and sinker, the brigand thought to himself as a smirk grew upon his face regardless of the knife. "And yet, you haven't even heard of humans."

Her eyes shot open as she barely contained a noise most unfitting a princess of her stature. The error of her logic was dawning upon her. Even the force of the knife upon his throat slacked. It was just like he said, it had never crossed her mind. She hadn't heard of humans before she had met the brigand and had asked him and if there was one there was bound to be others. A civilization, a nation even. But one more advanced? That would be problematic.

Equestria had fought wars before but the last one was centuries ago. While Luna was still stuck in the past of militaristic necessity, Celestia had in Luna's absence pursued a pacifist future. One of diplomacy and trade. Minotaurs and griffons had ended their aggression when the value of trade had grown too invaluable. Wars had simply grown too costly. Soldiers would perish by the hundreds on the fields of battle, the leaders of the future—the foals—would starve to death in the sieges.

Of course, the two sole alicorns had tipped the scales in Equestria's favor. Their battle magic reigned supreme. But they were only two and two ponies couldn't be everywhere at the same time. Luna had once asked to use their celestial bodies in war or at least as a deterrence but Celestia thought it unwise. Luna could now only agree after having her... episode.

So the prospect of there being a nation that was not only more advanced but apparently not reliant on Equestrian trade was not something Luna appreciated. She'd have to be cautious, alert and mindful of her actions so as to not cause a diplomatic incident despite how much she would enjoy the battle.

Gaping like a fish was questionably not a part of the plan.

"Food for thought?" The brigand snapped her out of her stupor.

"Forsooth." She eyed her opponent—in diplomacy, of course—and lowered the knife slightly. "Thou still hast not fulfilled thy part of the bargain."

"Kinda difficult to do that when you're threatened with murder over a misunderstanding."

Luna winced. She wanted to end him right then and there, but her sister would be very disappointed if she returned to Canterlot with a war in tow. And perhaps it was just a misunderstanding. "Consider all the possibilities before jumping to conclusions," she was reminded by her sister's words.

She looked behind her. The infernal beast of nightmares lay quiet on the floor, tethered to the wall. A small yet terrifying foe, covered in armor and wielding a deadly trunk. She questioned the strength of the chain. It looked flimsy. Definitely not iron. She shuddered as she remembered the brigand sicking the beast on her. How it tried to consume her with its trunk. How she ran away only for the Night Terror to lunge upon her. Not that there were any place to run to, there was only one room other than the armory and one other near the box. A small place, this Man Cave.

She looked back at a calmer brigand. "Slay thy Beast of Nightmares and We might forgive thy transgressions."

His brows furrowed. "Beast of Nightmares? It's a vacuum cleaner, Luna!"

"We care not what thou callest it! We will not let it consume Us!" And the knife was back at the throat.

She was really being difficult, wasn't she? "Luna, it has neither the suction nor the size to suck you in. I can understand a cat being scared, what with them being stupid yet evil masterminds," he reasoned.

"Meow." Still pleading for food, huh?

"You, however, are a grown—and intelligent—mare. I thought you'd see reason."

"Thou sicked it upon Us!" And the snarl was back.

"A stupid joke! Seriously, there was no malicious intent!"

The stare-off continued, one with barely-contained rage, the other with barely-contained fear. Only the cry of the cat could be heard as the feline pleaded for food. Thankfully, reason prevailed, as Luna lowered the knife after an internal reminder of her predicament.

She breathed slowly and uttered a whisper. "Keep it away from Us."

"I need it. There's still dust on the floor."

"Use a broom!"

"It's time-inefficient!" Seeing the Princess shaking once more with death in her eyes, he continued, "Look, I'll even let you use it if you want. Get to know it and all that. As long as you don't break it. Shit's expensive."

"Language."

"Free speech."

She closed her eyes for a moment. "...Curse you, Tia," she muttered. She opened them again when she had pulled away the knife. "Cease from doing that again in the future, brigand."

"Yeah, sure. Truce?"

She reluctantly agreed. She still held onto knife as the brigand was finally free to move again and start cleaning up his dung—no, his apartment. As the beast roared once more, she deftly maneuvered herself so as to keep distance away from the beast, hugging the walls as much as possible.

Little by little, the beast consumed the dust, revealing the floor beneath. It was a light-blue floor and most unusual to the princess. It had creases going back and forth like parquet floor yet neither sounded nor felt like wood. It sounded more like dull marble yet felt almost like silk or ceramic. A very polished marble, perhaps, but still far too soft. It also didn't lose its heat as quickly.

The walls, however, were plain white. Slightly rough to the touch like brick but without the lime mortar. She couldn't tell where the bricks began and ended. Either that, or the walls were nothing but solid blocks of polished rock.

The room itself was plain and bare. A bed near the windows—the moonlight soothing Luna slightly—and a glass-inlaid door to a small empty balcony. A structure of rope and wool stood at the end of the bed. One wall hosted a half-empty bookcase with books and memorabilia such as photos. The other wall had a chair and a desk with a few black boxes of unknown make on top as well as tethers and other items she could not identify. Then, there were the boxes. Cardboard boxes lined up on both sides of the room, filled with papers and more boxes and items. At the wall opposite the bed was a small kitchen with dishes piled up. Either that or a laboratory, she wasn't certain.

"Um, you mind handing the knife back?" the brigand asked her. He had finished cleaning the floor and was letting water run through the tap. It seemed the humans had mastered plumbing, one of the few advances Luna had appreciated.

"Why?" she cautiously inquired.

"Because it's dirty." Seeing the blank stare, he followed up. "I'm doing the dishes?"

She looked back to the knife. Then back to him. "'Tis not poison?"

Rolling his eyes, he answered, "It's grease, Luna. And maybe botulin for all I know." When all she did was narrow her eyes, he sighed. "You have a horn to stab me with, you know. Not to mention your God Mode."

"We art not a barbarian, you miscreant," she recoiled. "Our Royal Horn is not to be used in such a manner."

"At least allow me to clean it."

A few passing moments of silence came and went before Luna reluctantly handed the weapon back. Nevertheless, a princess never lets her guard down. Thus she stood vigil and kept an eye on the brigand. Once the knife was clean, he casually handed back the now wet knife. This was slightly surprising, she had expected him to at least disarm her. Either that or he was simply frightened.

She preferred the latter.

The kitchen was certainly in a better condition now. A stove, an oven, a metal countertop and sink. Iron, perhaps? A foolish choice. Iron would rust. Ceramic or magically protected iron would fare better and she could sense no magic emanate from it. A small wooden table with pathetic excuses for chairs made up the imaginary dining room.

Above the countertop and sink were a few cupboards. The brigand opened up one of them and pulled out a metal pot. Surprisingly, the shelves of that cupboard were made of thin bars rather than solid boards of wood. Cutlery, plates and cooking equipment were piled up, slotted in and placed upon the bars respectively. She spotted glass and ceramic as well as metal. Iron again, most likely.

A tick of a sound drew her attention to the stove, a red light having appeared on the front. Once again, no magic. Electricity, perhaps? It was relatively new in Equestria and used for lighting. But the stove itself had no magic. Nor were there any telltale signs of wood or gas. Just four black dais of two sizes. A cooking pot of water was placed upon one of the smaller ones, sealed with a metal lid placed on top.

The brigand moved to the other side of the kitchen to a small white door. Opening revealed a light source but not much else as the door blocked the line of sight. No magic. From within, the brigand pulled out a larger lidded metal pot and placed it on top of one of the larger black dais.

"So, mind if I ask you something, Luna?" he asked.

Her pet was peeved. "Princess—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. May I?" He turned around to face her, his face betraying his nervousness.

She gave it a moment of contemplation. "Thou mayst."

"What kind of food can you eat?"

"Ponyfood."

"Specifics, Luna."

She rolled her eyes. "Vegetables, roots, fruits."

"Dairy?"

"Yes, as well as eggs."

"No allergies?"

"None."

"Any food beyond that?" He put on a nervous smile.

"Specifics, human," she smirked back.

"Like, say..." He gave it a second's thought. "I assume you've been on a diplomatic mission before, yes?"

She dropped her smirk and glanced at the floor in thought. "Not... recently, but yes." In truth, she hadn't had time to take part of modern diplomacy since her return. Her acclimatization to modern times took precedence. Still, she had been to peace negotiations before her banishment. Those counted, did they not?

"And you've presumably had a taste of the culinary arts of the host nation?"

"Where art thou taking this?" Confusion began to take hold of her. He had already claimed to not be able to cook food worthy of Royalty so she wasn't expecting perfection.

He sighed. "Have you ever dined with a griffon before?"

"Yes, We—"

"And I don't mean your servants bringing food from Equestria but griffons serving you their food. Without reservation."

She furrowed her brows momentarily before realization dawn upon her. The brigand took note of this as he glanced sideways before giving her a smile. A big smile—yep, those were canines and she doubted those served the same purpose as her thestrals' fangs.

She fought back the tinge of green on her face. "Thou... art a carnivore?"

"Omnivore, technically, but yes. Humans eat meat."

Tearing her gaze away, she reluctantly asked the difficult question. "Thou art cooking meat right now, art thou not?"

"Technically yes."

"Dost thou... have a herbivorous alternative?"

"Well... there's bread and butter but that's reserved for breakfast. There's also raw potatoes and carrots."

She grimaced at her choice. Either eat like a homeless beggar or battle with nausea. "What... what kind of meat?"

"Tuna."

"Tuna?"

"It's a fish. Cheap. Processed. Shredded to pieces. You can barely feel it."

"... Anything else in there?" she dithered.

He opened one of the cupboards and pulled out a red-green bag of something. It appeared to have already been open and had half its contents left. He poured the remainder into the smaller pot which now had boiling water. The yellow pieces looked familiar. A white powder, salt presumably, was tossed in as well and the contents of both pots were stirred with a wooden spoon. "Crushed tomatoes, champignon mushrooms, potatoes, carrots, onions and garlic. Oh and spices. Lots of chili."

It was a difficult choice.

***

She was a warrior. She reiterated that to herself every time she lifted her spoon to her mouth. She could fight; this was just like a battle. There was always blood and gore on the battlefield that could make anyone nauseated. If she could fight that nausea, she could fight this one. How difficult could that be?

Oh my sweet stars. She could feel her stomach picking up the pitchforks at the mere thought of what she was resorted to inflict upon it. But by her Mother's name she would not degrade herself to eating like the homeless peons, if they even existed these days. If this was the best quality this brigand had to offer, then she would take it. Perhaps Tia would appreciate Luna's new open-mindedness. Yes, she'd call it that. No one could contest that.

The brigand sat opposite of her, eating away the food in his bowl with barely any look of contentedness in his eyes. As if eating was a chore that no matter how much work he put into it, it always left some to be desired. He coughed a bit as food was caught in the wrong pipe. A quick swig from his black and sealed mug afterward put any further coughing fits to rest.

Speaking of drinks, Luna looked at her ceramic cup. She had been allowed to pick one and she chose one which could at least be seen in the presence of royalty. A foolish endeavor, to be sure. It had paintings of weird comical animals of an unknown species on it. They looked like cows except bipedal with similar paws like the human and the coats were all light gray. No udders, though, and they were far too plump to be minotaurs. The contents of the cup was a yellow opaque liquid. It tasted almost like orange juice. Almost. She couldn't tell what was wrong with it and it irked her. It was so close yet so far away from the real thing.

They sat there, silently eating. Even the Night Terror was eating away from its own bowl on the floor. Apparently there was food in those plastic bags. That still didn't excuse attempted regicide. She would get back at it somehow.

Luna was still three-quarters through her meal when she noticed the brigand seemingly pondering. His jaw was moving back and forth while his gaze was fixed on his empty bowl. "What?"

"Hmm?" He gazed back at her.

"Thou art pondering something. Enlighten Us."

Gazing back to his bowl, he answered, "Merely wondering how you're even here."

"We thought thou knew," she stated with a raised brow.

"I don't. You shouldn't even be here."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Just me trying to make sense of the senseless. I mean I know things from my education but I have neither the knowledge nor the equipment to explain how you got here."

A few spoons of silence and nausea-inducing food followed. "Do you know, Luna?" he asked.

"Nay, We do not."

"What's the last you remember before meeting me?"

"Terrors uncounted," she deadpanned.

"Before that." He put his elbows on the table and rested his head inquisitively on his hands.

Luna pondered for a moment, whether she should trust him with this knowledge. Then again, he had been putting trust into her, hadn't he? She wasn't certain what had happened. She explained to him about her patrolling the Dreamscape and the dream she had last visited. Of the colt jumping up to eclipse the sun and how she was forcefully awakened.

"Wonderful symbolism," he muttered under his breath.

"Hmm?"

"So just like that?" he digressed. "You just woke up in the box?"

"Yes. 'Twas not pleasant."

He sighed, before rubbing his eyes with one hand and whispering, "I swear, Discord, if you're involved in this somehow..."

"Thou knowest the Spirit of Chaos?" Luna was a bit taken aback. He was still in his petrified state, wasn't he? How could this brigand have heard of him if it had been a thousand years since his reign had ended? Unless the brigand was ageless, which she doubted.

"Not in person, but I've heard of him."

"How? From where?"

"Doesn't matter. I'm more interested in getting you back to Equestria. Somehow. Save us both a lot of pain and trouble."

"On that, We can agree. When doth the next train or chariot leave for Equestria?"

"Yeah..." he grimaced. "Communication with Equestria is a bit, shall we say, strained at the moment."

"Then send word for my sister to organize transport."

"Strained, Luna."

"Then thine own government. We art technically a foreign diplomat."

"You're far more likely to end up vivisected on a table somewhere than that happening."

Luna blanched. Her bowels were almost ready to void themselves and not through the correct end. "V-Vivisected?" She wasn't quite certain she was hearing him correctly. "What kind of brutes for a government dost thou have?!" Images of horror invaded her mind.

"The morbidly curious kind. With a few greedy and corrupt bastards mixed in, naturally."

"Thy nation is a polyarchy?"

"Oligarchy with plutocratic tendencies, all disguised as an indirect democracy in the form of a republic. But that's just my opinion."

"How doth thy nation even function," she gaped. Inwardly, though, she was hoofpumping for having proven Ares Trot wrong. A diarchy was evidently superior to a democracy.

"I ask myself that every night. It's a miracle is all I can deduce."

"Then thou willest give Us directions to Equestria."

"Vivisection, Luna."

"We can be stealthy!" she loudly assured him.

He shook his head as he chuckled. "It's not a matter of stealth, Luna, but distance."

"We have time."

"I'm sure you do," he chuckled once more.

"Then what is the problem?"

"Measure. Norm. Vector space limitations."

She sighed. "Speak plainly, please."

"I don't know where Equestria is."

"But... you know of it." Luna just couldn't understand this human and his nonsense.

"Doesn't mean I can pinpoint it on a map and I know my geography. Sort of."

She sighed once more. "This is tiresome. Thou art tiresome. We art tired. Where can We retire?"

Dawning realization struck the brigand. You see, he had only one bed. It was sized for one person, one human. The apartment now had one more inhabitant, leaving only true horror as the consequence.

The truce was a short one.

Author's Note

So I switched over to double spacing instead of inline for paragraphing. Is this more readable for y'all?

Progress

Sebastian had most of the times been a smart kid. Sure, his first school years had been slow. He had loathed it, preferring to rather stay at home with whatever game system he had at the time: Sega Genesis, PlayStation and a few Nintendo console varieties whenever they had been released, though he had almost always been a late adopter. One could say he had been a spoiled brat, who at the very least didn't get himself into trouble. He had been shy, lazy and had the start of some pudginess here and there. Finishing homework had been an impossibility sometimes; he had often been bailed out by family members instead. That had not been to say he hadn't had some athletic interests. Ask him to play floorball and he would have been game. Heaven had forbidden anyone to get him to skate on ice, though.

The pain he had felt in his feet was a common complaint. Nevermind the price of the ice skates. Or his inability to actually skate.

But still, he had been smart. It had manifested itself in maths, when the dreaded multiplication table test had come up in primary education. Horrors such as seven times eight and... well multiplication with seven was pretty much the horror column. Still, he faced and aced it.

Next year had brought division and oh dear had that been a mind twister. Specifically long division, for which the general algorithm had been well known, but the execution he had been taught at the time had never stuck. Usually, a stairs-like contraption would be used with the denominator on the left on the stairs and the numerator to the right below the step; the quotient ended up above the step and the remainder was buried somewhere with the dinosaurs. The method Sebastian had first been taught put everything on a single horizontal line, like a fraction, and the quotient ended up after an equal sign. The calculations had been, to put it bluntly, a clusterfuck of chicken scratches above the numerator.

Later, when his family had moved and he had been placed in another school, had he finally learnt the more standardized approach. And it had stuck.

None of that helped him now as he found dividing the bed in two was an impossibility when standing next to what was essentially a goddess to a puny human.

In fact, what he found more helpful right now was the chilling ice on his face, putting down the swelling from having been royally slapped across the room. "Perhaps we can be a bit more civil this time around," he said, nursing his cheek.

Luna had resigned herself into a state of shame and regret. At least she had mended the broken bones. As for how such a thing had arisen, well... ponies weren't dogs. And no, it hadn't been petting. Instead, before Luna had had a chance to claim the one and only bed, he had entered the walk-in closet and brought an old memoir: his late dog's bed. Offering the gray, faux leather bed up to Luna, who definitely would have fit in it, had not amused her. He was, after all, only smart most of the time.

On second thought, he could have been more tactful. Though seeing her in her current state, he figured mentioning the original owner of the bed would have been a bad idea. Passing up a bed because it didn't meet one's standards and then slapping the offerer, was one thing. Doing so when the bed had the significant sentimental value of a loyal companion long since passed? Definitely a bad idea to tell someone with her history.

Still, having her wallow in her self-hatred was not productive. So he chose another approach to coax her out of her shell, so to speak. Trial and error, no?

"You could always sleep in the box, I suppose." Again, not the smartest.

If there was anything that could at least temporarily stop someone from hating oneself for ones own actions, the prospect of facing one's own personal hell that one abhorred far more than anything in existence surely would stop them, no? For Luna, it started out subtly, her mumbling stopping before her head slowly rose with the fury of a thousand suns. Faster than lightning, her horn powered itself to its maximum before unleashing an apocalyptic bolt of magical energies at the cardboard box on the other side of the room.

Sebastian had no time to react as the bolt slammed into the box. For approximately two hundred milliseconds, his brain cells worked overtime to interpret the incoming data before slamming his body into 'OH SHIT'-gear.

"HOLY FUCK!" he screamed as his eyes tried to recover from overexposure. He couldn't pick up the heaving breaths from Luna, which he found odd. A spell of such magnitude surely would have drained a lot of energy. Still, he could hear his own breathing, so he wasn't deaf. Perhaps the spell had been sufficiently energy efficient on vaporizing its target that little energy had been turned into sound?

Well, either that or Luna was a tactful master of stealth archery. Implications unpleasant.

As he regained his vision, he put on a scornful frown. "Luna, what the fuck?! You can't just go around blasting whatever you want with your God Mode in my... apartment..." His attempt at berating the Princess of the Night turned to confusion as all he saw in front of him was not a vengeful goddess but a cardboard box.

Completely unscathed.

His brain did not compute.

Restarting with a shake of his head, he stared in befuddlement at the silent cardboard box. "What." He turned his gaze to where the ashes of a box and hole in the wall should have been and found none. That section of the apartment was perfectly unharmed. He glanced back at the box then back at the hallway back and forth several times. "What the fuck?"

Still, the question of Luna remained. Chancing it, he gently opened the box.

In less than a heartbeat, his world tumbled to the floor into a field of constricting blue. A whispering mantra reached his ears. "We have walked the edge of the abyss. We have seen the errors of Our ways and We have learnt." Over and over, it was almost religious. At the very least, it was ridiculous. And choking.

"Cant. Breathe." He hoped his prayers would reach the goddess's ears.

Luna, once more having forgotten her own strength, relaxed her grip on Sebastian's torso. Her eyes met his. A distant, shell-shocked stare bore into his. "We will accept whatever sleeping arrangements thou deemest adequate." She leaned in closer, her manic eyes reminding him of a certain tardy unicorn. "Just. Get. That. THING. Away from Us!"

Sebastian tried to check in on the state of the box only to find it more or less the same as it were before. "What... kind of spell did you cast?"

"...Disintegration."

"It didn't work?"

"We know not why."

"..."

"'Tis thy doing, is it not? As punishment?"

He was tempted to say 'no', but given her reaction, it could prove useful. Then again, it could backfire. Either way, one thing was starting to make sense. Or rather, not make sense.

Discord. You fucker.

Luna, noticing the indecision on Sebastian's face, tried to be diplomatic, if only to save herself from political embarrassment. Being in the human's good books sounded nice. "We humbly apologize for our actions on thy body. It seemeth We have underestimated thee."

"Apology accepted," he answered. "Please get off of me, your position is sending all kinds of weird signals to my brain and I'm not that far off the deep end just yet."

Luna frowned, curious as to what he was alluding to, but did as he requested. She deftly avoided the Box of Terrors as she backed away, watching Sebastian rise up from his position on the floor.

Sebastian, on the other hand, kept his stare on the box, not sure what to do with it. She destroyed it before, why didn't it work now? As magic was completely lacking in humans, he had no knowledge of how magic worked. That didn't stop him from making hypotheses, however. Making sense out of chaos was what humanity had done for its entire existence. So, he guessed that something that shouldn't have happened now but in the end did meant that one or more variables had changed.

For one, he wasn't outside anymore. He was in a different location. Maybe magic worked off of ley lines, he didn't know, but it was always a common explanation for magic in fictional works. The change of ley lines could have altered the effect. Or maybe Equestria completely lacked said ley lines but they somehow existed here and their presence would make Equestrian magic unpredictable? Unlikely, given the plenty of occasions where Luna's magic worked as intended. So unless ley lines moved around and this was just a fluke, it didn't seem the likely explanation.

His programming mind, however, thought another approach. See, in several programming you had things, objects or types of sorts. A variable could be declared or assumed a certain type, but without initialization, the behavior of a type could be undefined or defined, such as assuming a default initial value. The box had already been around and working as well as a box should have, so some default behavior was already in place. The only reasonable difference between then and now was that before, Luna, presumably, had not cast any spells on it prior. This time, it already had a record of Luna's spell casting. Perhaps her magic had triggered something.

Well, either that or it was random. Only one way to test it though.

"Luna?" he eased her.

"Yes?" she responded, shifting her gaze to the floor.

"Do you... think you could levitate the box?"

Luna frowned at him and pulled her head towards her body in a somewhat wary manner. "Why?"

"I just want to check something. Please."

She risked a glance at the box, before gazing back at him. "Willest thou force Our Royal Person back into the box?" she asked, glaring daggers.

"I promise I won't put you into the box while you do this for me. Pinkie promise," he said, doing the motion as shown on the show.

"And what, pray tell, is a 'Pinkie promise'?"

"Think of it as an oath."

A few moments passed before Luna sighed and put her trust on his word. Gently, she lit her horn with levitation, a light-blue aura enveloping the cardboard box.

For about a second, before the box jumped at Luna, who screamed in horror as the box enveloped her like a tatzlwurm.

So that's what happened, Sebastian thought as the box landed on the floor, all sealed up. Realizing another royal panic attack was coming, he quickly moved to open the box and, having strategically placed himself on the other side this time, avoided the oncoming blue cannonball that collided with the wall.

Luna was in a ragged state on the floor, petting her tail in a fetal position. "T-Thou promised! Thou swore an oath!"

Raising his hands innocently, he rebutted, "And I kept my word. I didn't do anything but observe."

"We will not be fooled by thy trickery!" She stared sternly.

Placing a hand over his face, he sighed. He figured his experiment would come with a cost. Breathing deeply, he leveled his eyes at Luna's. He walked up to her, aware she was trying to back away like he was a monster from a horror flick but failing due to her fetal position. As he reached her, he sat down on his knees and grabbed the struggling princess into a hug.

"I did not intend to hurt you, Luna, no matter what you think," he tried to comfort her. "I'm sorry you had to go through that again but I had to know."

"Know what?" she asked in a whisper.

"Luna..." he began. "Luna, I know nothing of magic—"

"Preposterous!"

"Let me finish," he said, reeling in his annoyance at being interrupted. "Humans are not creatures of magic. We possess no magic, we know nothing of magic other than what we fantasize as magic, which is most likely incorrect by Equestrian standards.

"That said, we are a clever bunch. Stupid at times, but also brilliant. Despite lacking the arcane, we try to master the mundane. To understand the world around us, how it works and what best explains its mechanisms. A tried and true method is to interact with a system and see what happens, testing hypotheses as you go."

Staring at the box, he finished, "The box was one such system. One not of my design or that of any human."

"'Twas not thy doing? Is this what thou art saying?"

"No, it wasn't my doing."

"So thou used Us."

He winced. "Not one of my best ideas but I doubt you would have agreed if I told you I suspected you might end up in the box again."

"Thou art correct. We would not."

They sat there in a moment of silence.

"Shall I let go of you, Luna?" he asked.

"...Yes." Her answer was short and fast once it came.

Whether or not it was an attempt to save face, Sebastian did not ponder. Even the strongest have their moments of weakness. Letting go of her, he offered a hand in helping her up, which she stubbornly refused. There was the mare he had grown accustomed to. As they stood there, awkwardness abound, the unanswered question sprung into existence.

"What didst thou find?" Luna asked, throwing daggers at the cardboard box.

"First, let me ask you something, just to clarify," he stated. "Is magic unique to the user?"

"Unique?"

"Does it have something like a personal signature."

She glanced out to the moon. "Star Swirl had once invented a few tracking spells based on something similar, yes." The memory of her old friend stymied her thoughts for a moment before she asked Sebastian, "What of it?"

"Well," he began, "I'm not a wizard or anything, but based on the chain of events it's possible the box of unknown origins have had your signature imprinted on it when you destroyed it the first time and reconstructed it. I think it reacts only to your magic, or if it reacts to other magic then it reacts more harshly to yours.

"Or just magic in general, for all I know. I don't have a good sample size."

"Who would design such a thing?" she asked.

Bobbing his head up and down, he answered, "I have a few suspicions. No proof, though."

Luna shook her head. "It mattereth not. Thou shalt destroy it."

"Might not be the best thing to do—and let me finish," he stated as daggers were stared his way. "Think about it, Luna. You arrived here in a box. That box. I don't know your way home, I doubt you'll find anyone here that can."

"Surely somepony must—"

"Maybe, maybe not. Vivisection, remember? Either way, that box may be your ride home."

"Ride?"

"Transportation."

"Ah. But how?"

He smiled. "The human way, Luna."

Luna deadpanned. "We will not be thy test subject."

"Not now, perhaps, but keep it in mind. Think about it." Glancing outside, he noticed just how late it was. "But for now, I could really use some sleep. I have early business to deal with."

Glancing at the dog's bed, Luna winced. "Must We?"

Sebastian considered once more telling her of the bed's sentimental value, but seeing as Luna was finally on the mend from her little 'adventure', he thought better of it. "You know my bed is too small to fit both of us."

"We do."

He really wanted to sleep in the bed. He really did. But what kind of host would he be to treat a guest—a princess—like an animal, even if she technically was an animal in the eyes of the world. His mother had taught him better. After a minute of silence, he sighed and glumly faced the future, rubbing his eyes with both of his hands. "If it makes you feel any better, you can have the bed. I can sleep on the floor."

Luna whipped her head at him with a look of surprise. "Truly? Thou wouldst surrender thy own bed for Us?"

"Yeah, why not? For this night at least. Maybe we can take turns or something."

"We..." she began, glancing to her side. "We are grateful for thy hospitality despite Our actions this night."

"Think nothing of it, Lulu," he said, turning to the bathroom. "I'm gonna fix myself up, you might wanna do the same. You know how to use a toilet, right?" Did they even show any of that in the show? I don't really remember.

"Thou meanest the privy?"

"Toilet, privy, water closet, loo, the porcelain throne; a sweet child has many names."

"Ah, then yes, We do. Our sister might have mentioned one of them."

"Oh, thank goodness," he sighed in relief. "I'll be just a minute. There's a shower in here if you need to use it; towels in the closet." He pointed to said walk-in closet and opened the bathroom door. Luna took note of how the handle was pushed down like a wrench.

"Meow!"

"Been busy, have you?" Sebastian petted the cat as it stroked his legs. Or probably been hiding from Luna's kamehameha. Entering the bathroom, he left Luna with the cat.

Luna had not forgotten the Night Terror. "So." Her eyes narrowed. "We meet once more, beast."

"Meow."

"Were it not for thy master's generosity, We would have slain thee now that We have the chance."

"Luna, be nice!" Sebastian shouted.

Luna snorted. "Even the walls have ears."

"Nah, solid cement walls. The door is just rather thin. Also, you need to learn some volume control."

"But this is—"

"The Royal Canterlot Voice, I know." No Luna Eclipsed yet, it seems. Huh, I wonder how much time has really passed in Equestria if she's from just before season two? Considering the show was well into the sixth season already, this gave Sebastian pause for concern. How long was she in the box? Does time pass differently in Equestria? Maybe there's a delay? Or maybe her Equestria is different from the show?

It must be different. If she's here, her Equestria mustn't have followed the show's timeline. Unless there's a significant time interval between the two seasons. Pondering further, he wondered what the hiatus would be like in Equestria. Finishing up, he flushed the toilet.

After washing his hands, he came out of the bathroom with a toothbrush in hand. "I'm afraid I only have the one toothbrush," he said and brushed his teeth. He was relieved the second battle of his apartment hadn't started.

"We will manage," she said, taking her turn for the bathroom. For a moment, everything was silent on the bathroom front, until a blue head popped out of the doorway. "Art thou certain thou hast a privy?"

"It's the white hollow chair with water in it," he answered, hoping against hope he wouldn't need to teach her.

"'Tis different."

"Good different or bad different?"

"'Tis taller."

Oh god. "It's not a squat toilet, Luna. You sit on it—hooves off the rim—you let it all out, then you either wipe yourself with the sheets of paper hanging in a roll on the wall opposite you or you turn on the faucet and use the bidet shower on your left."

"Why mustest thou complicate it so much?"

"Because reasons."

With that said, Luna went back inside, hopefully coming out when she was done. Sebastian, in the meanwhile, finished brushing his teeth, placing the brush in a mug on the kitchen counter, and brought out a blanket from the closet. At least he would stay warm in the night.

"Vexation!" Luna shouted.

"Everything alright in there, Luna?" Sebastian asked.

"Thy privy is inadequate for Our Royal Tail! 'Tis all wet!"

He winced. "Have you tried keeping your tail to the side? Or sitting a bit forward?"

"..."

"Luna?"

"We can manage."

"If you say so."

It took a few minutes, but eventually Sebastian heard the faucet turn on. Soon enough, a relieved Luna exited, though she had to go back shortly upon being told how to flush. Apparently, a pedal was used in Equestria, in contrast to knob sitting on top of the water tank that one pulled upwards.

Seeing as Sebastian was already on his way to the Dreamscape on the floor, leaning his back against the wall and with the Night Terror in his lap, Luna took off her regalia with her magic and hopped into bed. It wasn't as soft as her own bed, but it would do.

"One more thing, Luna," Sebastian said, startling the princess. "I said I was going to lay down some ground rules."

Luna didn't seem pleased by it but listened intently regardless.

"One, you mustn't be seen. Most humans would react... poorly upon seeing you. That means outside is off limits, at least during day time. However, I don't want to keep you here as a prisoner. Just make sure to stay out of sight when I'm not the only one around.

"Two, keep your magic to a minimum. If the box is anything to go by, who knows if there are any other items here that react similarly.

"Three, don't break my stuff. Especially the apartment as it's technically a rental. Things are a lot more expensive here and any bits you carry—if any—are only going to be worth the metal they were minted from.

"And finally, four. Stay out of people's dreams—"

"Thou canst not expect Us to stray from Our duty!" she said.

"Duty or not, human dreams and the human mind in general are extremely private and sacred. I also have no idea if people will notice you but I don't want to take the chance. So no matter how obliged, tempted or worried you are, stay out of them. Humans' dreams at the very least.

"Understood?"

Her eyes narrowed. "And if We do not agree?"

Raising his brows, he pointed his gaze to the box. "I think the prospect of staying inside the box should be enough deterrent, no?"

Luna shuddered. "Thou drivest a hard bargain, human."

"Sebastian."

"Huh?"

"Please use my name, Luna. It would be the polite thing to do."

Luna shifted, but eventually sighed. "Very well... Sebastian."

"And with that, I'm off to wonderland. Good night, Luna."

"Good night."

***

"This is nice of you. I never thought I'd see the day."

"Times change, Discord."

"Still, it had seemed for a while that Fluttershy was the only one inviting me to tea. Especially after Tirek.

"I'm glad to be wrong."

"It is a wonderful feeling, is it not?"

"Oh, you have no idea. Everything is looking so up, these days. Looking so me!"

"Indeed." A door opened. "Ah, that would be dinner."

"A special main course of yours, I presume? Ha, do surprise me further, Lulu. I love it!"

Author's Note

Happy New Year, everypony.

It's been a while, but I finally found some time get this thing out. Autumn was chock-full of course work. I'm not sure when the next one's coming out, but hopefully I can finish another one before the holidays end.

Personally, I felt Sebastian's comforting to be a bit cheesy or cliché, but what do I know? I needed something there.

And before you get fancy ideas, the tags have still not changed.