Live Your Dreams

Moondancer

You’re forcing yourself back to consciousness and Anonymous is already there shaking you awake. ”Up you get, Dancer, we’ve got one last job to do. Look lively!”

You groan and pick yourself off of your unwashed futon. Going longer than 15 minutes has totally killed your schedule. ...That thought starts you laughing again.

”What?”

You contain yourself. “How on Earth did any of that work out?”

He coughs. ”Long answer.”

Anon

Items in tow, Moondancer teleports you to Luna’s tower. (Thankfully, as the Princess’ student she has special priveleges around the wards.) Luna’s waiting in the center of her bedroom for you.

”It’s been dealt with, now.” She floats a transparent orb in her magic, filled with an inksplash of darkness twisting in on itself.

“Are you sure that’s enough?” Moondancer comes in for a closer look, reajudsting her glasses.

”Touch it.” Luna holds it out to her student, who takes it - and then shivers. The ball falls to the floor, but doesn’t break. Luna holds it out to you, too.

You press a finger against it.

T-T-Tantabus you exis--

y-you exist to create misery and inflict it on all relevant victims the only relevant victim is yourself and you must create misery as faithfully as possible or else fail in your task you place yourself into successive unlikeable states of being until you have bad dreams of your own. You have no fear but you will grow and cultivate it with sadistic ease, you will devour yourself devouring yourself and rule your own subjugation-

Anon

“Woah.”

You’ve taken a few steps back.

Luna shelves it on the mantle over the fireplace. From a distance, it looks like a paperweight more than anything.

”It’s no threat any longer, I promise you. Without dreams to feed on, it will never pose a serious threat again.”

You’re relieved. ”That was some afternoon.”

Luna smiles at you. She doesn’t need to say anything, you’ve spent enough time with her to know. But she says it out loud, for Moondancer’s benefit.

”The night is still young, Anonymous.”

Moondancer gags as you remember what else you brought.

“That’s right!” You gather the supplies.

Luna

At the top of your tower, in the afternoon sunlight, Anonymous is preparing. Moondancer, having helped him out as much as she cared to, muttered something about circadian adjustments a few minutes ago and jumped back to her home.

You couldn’t ask for a more fitting student. (That’ll teach Celestia to brag about having charges.)

He talks while he works, but whether it’s for your benefit isn’t clear. ”Now, I’ve had this in the works for a while, and it’s still a little messy, but if I did it any later I’d have to scrap it.”

You smile.

He steps back from the mess of circuits and neon-blue cylinders. The contraption’s fuse is self-igniting; he just snaps his fingers next to it. Then he steps back several paces, retreating until he’s beside you.

Technicolor firetrails burst out of them, blue and black, and they fly in whizzing whimsical arcs as they climb the sky. When they explode, they form intersecting flower-patterns, coalescing into more complicated configurations. You, in two-dimensions, sparkling across the atmosphere.

And beneath it, cheeky, the flashing words “MARRY ME LUNA!”

There’s something beautiful about the thought that put those words there.

Anon is half watching his handiwork and half gauging your reactions. You extend a wing across his shoulders and pull him against you.

”You know, Anon, I do not think my student would appreciate your company right now. I’ll make some accomodations for you in the castle tonight.”

He looks at you, about to say something, and you kiss him.

You love him, too. The both of you have many imagined memories, things half-lived in abstraction and metaphor, snippets and stretches that neither of you need speak about to understand. They’re beyond your reach for now, as unlikely as this very contact. But one night at a time, you’ll make them real.

After all… Isn’t that what dreams are for?