To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

Chapters

Chap. 1 - The Stuff Dreams Are Made Of
Chap. 2 - She Walks In Beauty
Chap. 3 - Perchance to Dream
Chap. 4 - Come Little Children
Chap. 5 - And Steep My Senses In Forgetfulness
Chap. 6 - Close My Willing Eyes
Chap. 7 - Darkness
Chap. 8 - Epilogue Luna's Children

Chap. 1 - The Stuff Dreams Are Made Of

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream
--Georg (Editing by AlicornPriest)

We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.

The Tempest (4.1.168-170)

In the highest spire of the highest tower in Canterlot, Princess Luna dreamed of nightmares....

Princess Luna ascended into the night sky, free from the bonds of earth and toils of day and far from the voice that had frightened her so. She took a deep breath of the crisp night air and beat her wings even harder, as if altitude alone would be able to shake the terror of her dreams.

“They hate you.” The voice that had spoken in her dream was made of syrup and clouds, not the voice of Discord or the voice of...her. This was a voice forged from doubt and fear, an icy knife of words that crumbled her confidence like dust.

“They fear you.” Harder she beat her wings, looking only upwards in the thinning air. Far below she could hear the distant wingbeats of the Night Guard as they futilely attempted to follow her, their bat-like wings flailing against the thin air.

“They....love...me...” She panted as the air grew even thinner.

“They love your sister. She was always the special one. You have innocent blood on your hooves. You will always be in her shadow. Hated. Despised. Loathed. Feared.”

“My sister...” Luna stumbled for words in the thin air, her wings losing their rhythm.

“You are weak. She has always protected you.”

Luna gritted her teeth and flapped harder, rising higher and higher, but even here the voice followed.

“Only when you held the power, were you strong.”

“Some...power...has...too high...a price..” She gasped as the air around her thinned, the unblinking stars shining all around her.

“You could have that power again. All you have to do is—”

“NOOO!!” Luna’s scream would have woken half the castle if her bedchambers had not been shielded against magic. As it was, she could see the main door still vibrating as if it had been struck by a sledgehammer, and there was a faint far-off delicate tinkle as what remained of the beautiful stained-glass window in her bedchamber shattered on the courtyard stones far below. While she wrestled with the twisted bedcovers, the faint I’m-Tapping-Because-I-Heard-Something-But-Don’t-Want-To-Wake-You tapping of a concerned guard outside her door could be heard.

“Princess? Are you all right in there?”

“Yes,” she snapped after finally getting a sheet untangled from her forehoof. “Cursed covers, thou shall pay dearly for thy treachery.”

“Are you sure? I could send for—”

“No!” She ripped open the bedchamber door to reveal the youngest and lowest-ranked member of the Night Guard hunched uncomfortably in what could be called The Position For Gently Talking Through Keyholes, although upon sight of Luna in her present state of undress, he promptly fell down flat on his face and trembled. His older companion who had much more experience with the Royal Temper, properly maintained his Official Night Guard stance: Golden oval eyes firmly forward away from the door, ears firmly forward away from the door, his bat-like wings tucked firmly on his glossy black flanks and all attention concentrated firmly on any approaching being who could be a danger to the Princess. (and with full knowledge what horrible fate would befall him if he were to turn around and look)

“Guard!” she snapped. “What is thy name?”

“P-pp-ppp-pu-pu-pum,” the prostate guard gasped out between chattering teeth.

“Oh yes. Pumpernickel. The one with the wry name.” It was fortunate for Pumpernickel's fellow Night Guard that Luna had looked down at just that moment to free her last hoof from the tangled sheet, and missed his stifled snort of bemusement. “Get up.” She waited impatiently, her already foul mood was not improving. “We said get up!”

The guard maintained his face-down shivering attitude and pointed with one unsteady hoof at Princess Luna’s nightstand where the Royal Accoutrements sat.

“Oh for the love of....” She grabbed the tunic and tiara and threw them on, and debated about the shoes before passing. If the foalish idiot could not handle seeing his charge with naked hooves, he did not deserve to be in the Guard. “We said, get up. NOW.”

The trembling ebon Guard got up on his hooves, his bat-like wings tucked firmly in place on his glossy flanks. But he remained looking at the floor. “My Princess, I am at your service.”

“Look at us.” She stared at the Guard until finally his head came up and his golden oval eyes stared nervously into hers. “I. Am. Fine. Now return to your post.”

The nervous Guard briefly looked around at the room, taking in the char marks and the broken bits of furniture that were the result of previous dreams. “Are you cert— Yes, your Highness!” he blurted out and darted out the door moments before she slammed it shut. It irritated her that the doors in the castle were not properly made for slamming. A proper door for a princess would shut with a booming crash that would echo through the castle, while these just made a ‘thump’ no matter how hard they were slammed. (Although it probably would have made more noise if Pumpernickel had gotten all of his tail out before the door closed.)

At first she returned to the bed and straightened up the covers, hoping to return to a dream-free slumber. When sleep eluded her, she instead went to the window and looked out into the night sky. Her sister had allowed her to ‘assist’ with raising the moon for the last few months, even though it frightened her to the core of her being and she could not put more than a token amount of power into the Ritual of Night. The silvery disk that floated high in the sky bore terrifying memories for her, sporadic and flickering as if a dream. Her captivity had been spent spread out across the lunar surface in the immaterial form of Nightmare Moon, unable to think, unable to act, trapped in the form and mind of....her. Sometimes it felt as if she were still trapped there and this were the dream. And if she were to awake... She turned away from the moon to stare at her beautiful stars.

They at least remained her friends, never sleeping, never changing. Even Celestia’s glory did naught but overwhelm their delicate light with her blazing substance, when it passed, their cold brilliance returned as they had done so for long before the two of them had been born. They had not betrayed her, they had waited for her, and somewhere deep inside she knew they had helped in her escape.

She spread her indigo wings to take flight, to leave all her fears and doubts behind and ascend to fly with the stars, but hesitated at the edge of the balcony. The memory of her recent nightmare sent cold chills down her flanks and made the moonlit gardens below seem to coil with hidden shadows. For long moments she stood on the balcony, oblivious to the servants in the courtyard far below who had stopped sweeping up the broken glass, to the other Guards perched on neighboring towers who watched her in the darkness with their glowing cat-like eyes. The darkness swirled with memories of millennia ago, filled with names and faces long forgotten by this world and turned to dust. She could not help but think they were going to step around the corner at any second, just as if they were returning from a trip. But they all were dead and gone, forgotten to this world, forgotten to history and living only within her mind. How many of them were victims of her foolish pride, dying that a fool might exact petty revenge upon her sister? Their ghosts seemed to walk the halls of the castle, looking over her bed at night, unable to speak, unable to act, trapped in these stone walls as she was, prisoners of her actions long ago.

With a heart-felt sigh, she turned from the window and walked to the bookshelf. There were tax laws to examine, Royal Requests to approve, and historical records to read. Far too many things to do to waste time sleeping. Or trying to sleep.

Chap. 2 - She Walks In Beauty

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream Chapter 2
--Georg (Editing by AlicornPriest)

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

She Walks in Beauty by George Gordon Byron

There was a look of benign contemplation on the face of the light-rose colored earth pony mare with the ruby-red mane who trotted through the halls of the Canterlot Castle, but beneath the calm expression there was a rolling turmoil of frantic panic. The news she was carrying was just awfully terrible horrible, some of the worst news she had ever had to deliver. The Princess was going to be so upset. And when the Princess was upset, everpony in the castle was upset. And if everypony in the castle was upset, ‘Things’ would not get done. Critical things, important things, it might even mean the Grand Galloping Gala just a few days away might...fail. A shudder rippled down her pristine pink flanks at the thought, making the bouquet of flowers on her flank seem to wave in an earthquake.

Briefly she stopped by a window and looked outside, hoping for the possibility of a chocolate-milk cloud in the distance that would signify the escape of Discord, or a giant flaming dragon descending from the sky to destroy the world. Anything that would possibly distract her from informing the Princess of the news. But the morning had dawned bright and clear, the sun shining in the sky unaccompanied by any strange clouds or flaming dragons, to her great disappointment. She quietly paused at the two guards outside the door to the private dining area the sisters used for their breakfasts, took a deep breath to calm herself, and went inside to meet her fate.

“Ah, Rosalie. How did you find my sister this morning? Overslept again, perhaps? Or not,” Princess Celestia continued, looking at the rose-colored mare’s downcast face with disappointment.

“I’m sorry to say Your Highness, your sister was...indisposed when I visited to pass along your invitation to breakfast.”

Celestia sighed. It always seemed like pulling bad news out of the staff was a task worthy of a hero of ancient days. She felt as if she were holding the poor thing down and torturing them for secret conspiracy plans or some silly spy fiction like that, when all she wanted was the full story. She took a drink of her morning coffee, mixed with a few drops from a bottle that was labeled ‘Honey’ on the table, but contained a slightly different liquid product best kept away from open flames.

“Did my sister sleep poorly last night?”

Rosalie nodded, but before she could begin speaking, the Princess continued.

“More nightmares?” Nod

“Did it sound like she got any sleep last night?” Shake

“Like last night?” Nod

“And the same as the last few nights?” She nodded, and spoke quickly.

“There is still one of her Night Guard on duty in front of her door. He refuses to make way for the regular guard.”

Celestia finished her coffee while thinking, then sat the cup down with a quiet click. “We will see.”

The Night Guard Pumpernickel was having the worst night of his relatively short career. First the Princess of the Night had that...episode while he was on duty, had yelled at him, and then he had managed to get his already-short tail caught in the door when she closed it. And what was worse, the three cups of coffee he had to ready himself for duty had returned to plague him with a torture far worse than anything he had experienced before, one part physical, and two parts psychological. He had almost thrown himself at the mercy of that rose-colored servant and begged her to get him a knife, although he was not sure if it would be more appropriate to open a vein or chop off his tail, depending on whether it would be more embarrassing to his family to have urinated or bled all over the Princess’ doorstep, or maybe just simply cut his throat right here and die.

The faint metallic ring of hoofsteps drawing nearer made him grow weak in the knees. An overwhelming urge to grab a spear and chop his tail clean off and flee flared up, only to be stopped cold by the total paralysis of seeing Her Royal Highness, Princess Celestia, Regent of Equestria and Princess of the Sun walk around the corner and begin to head straight for him. Right up to him. And stop in front of him. And give him The Look. The Royal Guard did not bow in the presence of Her Royal Highness, but his front knees trembled to the point where he was about to collapse when she commanded, “Leave us for a moment. We wish to speak to our sister. Alone.”

The other two Day Guardsponies saluted, and promptly trotted off to just out of hearing range while the Princess of the Sun glared down at him. “Your loyalty to your Princess is commendable, but I gave you an order.”

“I a-a-apologize, Your Royal Highness,” he stuttered, wishing frantically that he was one of those lizards who could shed their tail in order to flee predators. “B-b-but I am unable to comply.”

At one time in his youth, Pumpernickel had been outside during the day when a thunderstorm had gotten away from some inexperienced weather pegasi. He had been deeply awed and more than a little concerned as the billowing black stormclouds swept together, lifting higher and growing larger until they had blotted out the overbright sun. And then had come the terrible lightning. Now he was sorely tempted to close his eyes and surrender to his well-deserved fate if not for some small part of his mind that wondered just what exactly being stricken dead by the Princess would look like.

Instead she simply leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “Stuck?”

Unable to speak, he nodded.

She smiled, and the Night Guard felt as if the sun had come out from behind the thunderstorm (although there was still a considerable chance of misplaced rain). “Your great-great... I think great-grandfather had exactly the same thing happen to him. Hold on, let me see what I can do.”

The Princess knocked gently on the door with one hoof. “Luna? Could I get you to open the door for me? Please?”

“NO!” The volume of the Canterlot Royal Voice nearly made Pumpernickel lose his concentration. “GO AWAY TIA!”

“I am but concerned about you, my beloved sister. Can we speak?”

“No! We are not well, and do not wish to speak to anyone.” There was a pause, as if to wipe away a tear. “Particularly you! Leave us alone!”

“Very well, my sister. I shall do as you ask. But just one thing before I go. Could you open the door a crack, just for a moment? You seem to have caught one of your guard’s...posterior.”

There was a noise that could have been a brief snort of laughter, and after a moment the door shifted open slightly, the Night Guard departed like a ebon streak, and the door closed again.

“Thank you, my beloved sister.” Celestia paused to lay a hoof on the door. She wished with all her heart that she could somehow just rip the door open and hold her sister, if only that would heal her instead of driving her farther away. It seemed anything she tried did naught but harm.

“I shall always be there for you, my sister. I love you.” She stood and waited for a response before quietly walking away, the gentle ringing of her shoes on the stone the only sound in the corridor.

Pumpernickel only thought the worst event of his career was over as he left the restroom with an intense sense of relief. (And some feeling actually coming back into his abused tail.) All he wanted to do was return to the small bedroom he shared with his adopted family and sleep until moonbreak. But as he left by the door marked ‘Stallions’ and stepped into the corridor, his heart almost stopped for the second time this morning.

“Good Morning, Guard Pumpernickel,” said the Princess Celestia, looking down at where the Night Guard had landed flat on his face. “You know you do not have to bow.”

“I’m off duty,” came the muffled reply as the guard remained in exactly the same position, face down, fully flattened to the cold stone. With any luck, the Princess would just stomp his head flat so he would never have to face his fellow guards again.

“Get up,” she said instead. “Walk with me down to the garden. I would speak with you of my sister.”

The Royal Gardens were a high-pitched flurry of activity. With only a few days to go before the Grand Galloping Gala, there were decorations to be hung, stands to be set up, and in general a great number of things that needed put into awkward places they did not want to fit. All of this faded away as Celestia walked the nervous Night Guard across the cobblestone courtyard, through the gardens, and into the private garden, where the hustle and bustle of the Gala setup was almost absent.

All around the gardens, the sounds of small woodland creatures could be heard as they fluttered from branch to branch and called out their anger at the noises intruding on their home. In short, he realized with a cold shock, it was the perfect spot for the Princess to have a conversation without being overheard.

She turned away from Pumpernickel and looked up, far up at the balcony of Princess Luna. “Tell me all of what has been happening with my sister.”

He started slowly, back when he had joined the Night Guard shortly before Luna had been freed from the grip of Nightmare Moon. It had been a chaotic and tense time of many new experiences, and his main memory of the royal sister had been a depressed pony who slept a lot. She was a great contrast to the Queen of the Night stories on which he had been raised at home and told late in the morning before bedtime.

Over the last few months, Princess Luna had been improving at a fairly constant rate. The first night she helped raise the moon was when her mane and tail had once again regained their royal ethereal qualities, and up until a few weeks ago, the Guard had been actually laying bets on when she would once again return to her Royal Duties full-time.

And then had come the first nightmare. At first the Night Guard had tried to ignore them. Broken furniture was replaced the next night, char marks were cleaned from the walls. Then she had taken to banning everyone from her room while she was not present, including the cleaning staff. And as of late, she had only been coerced into taking a meal tray into her room by the steady and persistent pressure of the Night Guard.

Celestia never took her eyes off her sister’s balcony while he talked. “Do you believe Nightmare Moon is returning?”

Legions of past Night Guards seemed to whisper in his ear, all of them saying “Shut up!” He struggled for a moment, then said, “No.”

“No?” Princess Celestia spared him a glance before returning her gaze skyward. “Good. You show wisdom beyond your brief tenure here, to believe the truth instead of bedtime stories. Nightmare Moon was destroyed by the Elements of Harmony, and my beloved sister returned to me. But even the Elements cannot bring back the relationship we had.”

The Princess seemed to be looking back through thousands of years instead of just up into the air, and it made the hackles of the Night Guard rise despite his mostly-numb tail. Her voice was a soft whisper, “You only have stories to go by, from ponies dead and gone to dust. I lived that time, and relived it over and over in my mind. Could I have done anything to change events, could I have talked her out of her actions somehow, what could cause my beloved sister to turn into such a monster? Was it me? Do you know how it felt to...imprison her? My own sister. Do you have a sister?”

“In my adoptive family I have two brothers. I’m not sure what my home family had for children. I was given up by them at birth.” He extended a leathery wing and gave it a soft flap. “The birth of one of our kind among the Day Pegasi is not an occasion of joy, but a sign of some secret sin of ancestry. There are so few of us left, it is by far easier for the ‘cursed’ child to be brought here, and raised by his own kind.” Sudden realization of just who he was talking to stopped his voice in his throat, and he fought back the temptation to kneel again..

The Princess turned and looked at him without a shred of pity or fear in her sad eyes, a light magenta gaze that seemed to pass straight through him and all the way back to his first ancestors created by Nightmare Moon a thousand years ago. “It is as you said, your kind are not loved among my ponies. They fear you for reasons no longer true. Which is why I brought your kind here, to Canterlot, in the hopes that by your service the common ponies will recognize your true worth.”

“It’s worked so well this far,” he said sarcastically, looking out at the spires and towers of the city ponies who just barely tolerated his presence by day. Then he froze with realization at what he had just said. And to Whom.

No bolt of solar power came down from the sun to incinerate him, but a tense giggle emerged from Princess Celestia instead. “Give it time. It has only been a thousand years.” She patted him on the shoulder and turned back to the castle. “I must return to my work now. There is much that must be done in the next few days if this Gala is to be a success. It is a great responsibility placed upon me by my subjects, but I would throw it away in a heartbeat if it could somehow bring my sister back to me.”

Princess Celestia gave one last pleading look at her sister’s balcony and whispered, “Please, watch over her well. Tell your fellow Guards if they need anything for her, anything at all, I will be at their call.”

Pumpernickel almost did not notice the walk back to the castle as the Princess returned to her regular schedule and the custody of the Day Guards. Night was over, and all he wanted to do was go back home and surrender to dreamless sleep.

Chap. 3 - Perchance to Dream

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream Chapter 3
--Georg (Editing by AlicornPriest)

To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause.

Hamlet (3.1.64-98)

Fits and starts of sleep was all that came to her now. The constant commotion as the castle prepared for the upcoming Gala only two nights away continued to awaken Luna even in her shielded room with two pillows over her head. Perhaps if she were to leave the room for a bit, she thought. Somepony could replace the window and shut out the noises from outside. And replace the curtains so Celestia’s sun would not shine so brightly into her room.

It was the work of an hour to get a hoof out of the comfortable bed, a second hour to bring the other three along, and nearly fifteen minutes to actually stand up with a prodigious yawn. “Good night, my one and only friend in this life,” she said, patting the softly tempting and fluffy mattress. “I shall return shortly to make your acquaintance once more.”

The Princess of the Night took little care preparing for the day other than to make certain the Royal Accoutrements were correctly in place. There were more than one servant, and at least one foalish Night Guard who reacted negatively to seeing their Princess less than fully dressed, she reflected. Despite her fatigue, she made certain to hold her head high and regal as she exited the Royal Bedchambers and addressed the guards outside.

“Guard. I have need of a walk about the castle to stretch my legs.” The regal mask slipped for a moment as she tried to think of what day it was, other than ‘Sometime after noon’. “Are there any activites ongoing that I might attend in proper form?”

Oh no, he wasn’t going to do it, she thought. It was so crude, so disgusting, oh no he was really going to... The Day Guard scratched his white head with one hoof while thinking. At least he had the sense to remain standing on three legs, instead of crashing to the floor.

“Well, Your Highness. There is a planning meeting for the Gala organizers in about an hour in the Butterfly Ballroom. Princess Celestia is supposed to preside over it, but every year she winds up getting stuck at Court until it’s over. If you so desire, I shall inform them you are attending in her stead this year.”

When swine fly and turtles tapdance, she thought coldly while trying to maintain her Royal Composure. If she had known release from the moon had included being trapped for hours listening to the high society ponies discuss the relative values of floral arrangements, she would have — she wrenched her thoughts away from the everpresent idea. Take the power sounded a whisper in her mind, an echo from a dream.

“No, We think not.” She shook her head, remembering where she was and looked back at the guard. “It is her place, We would not intrude. What else.”

The concept of rejecting Death By Planning Meeting seemed to bounce off the Guard like an arrow off armor, to be replaced by yet another slightly-less idiotic idea. “Oh, I know. The Princess said she had made arrangements with the Royal Dressmaker to see if they could make you a gown for the upcoming event.”

Luna looked blankly at the Guard, wondering just how he managed to have forgotten the actual name of the Grand Galloping Gala, but decided not to press the subject. “Yes, that would be acceptable for us. While we are gone, have someone repair the window in my room. And clean up.”

The Royal Dressmaker’s area was a leisurely half-hour stroll through the castle, tucked away in a less-traveled quarter and bearing signs of recent renovation. Inside there were a half-dozen servants working their hooves off when Luna was properly announced by her bodyguard.

“All Hail Her Highness, Princess Luna, Diarch of Equestria and Princess of the Night!” The guardspony had gotten better at his job announcing Her Royal Presence, she mused as she proceeded regally into the small room with nearly a dozen dressmaker dummies scattered about in no particular order. The half-dozen servants remained bowing while a slightly-tubby dark red pony with a greying coppery mane scurried over at her entrance and flattened down in a full bow, arising only after he had kissed the Royal Hoof as proper protocol indicated.

“Your Highness! I am so glad to see you here today, we had nearly given up hope that we would have time to properly garb you before the festivities. I am Rusty Pin, Royal Seamstress.” The earth pony with the silver straight pin cutie mark seemed to giggle nervously whenever he talked, and danced from place to place in his shop with his weight only on the tips of his hooves. It was all rather distracting, but she attempted to make the best of it. She looked around the shop at the dressmaker dummies scattered about the room. There were nearly a dozen outfits in various stages of completion, but none of them seemed to be very...Celestia sized.

“Mr Pin, my sister has decreed that you shall have the honor of garbing me for the upcoming festival. We command you to show us the clothing you have prepared for your Princess of the Night.”

There was a nearly inaudible squeak of joy as Rusty Pin presented a nearby dummy clothed in midnight blue and silver, a magnificent gown that set off her own indigo coloring favorably and swept the floor with great majesty. And probably mopped and waxed it too from all the weight of fabric that went into its sturdy construction, as well as the distinct possibility of steel beams and concrete. It gave her a great and long-forgotten pleasure to reject the design as unsatisfactory. It had been many years even before her exile since she had actually attempted to...shop. And rejecting the offers was the best part.

The second dress just as pleasurable to reject; it would have taken a dozen strong servants to get her strapped and laced into the black monstrosity, and with the high collar, the Guard would have to guide her like an animal, since she would have been only able to see directly ahead. She lingered over the rejection as if it were a fine glass of cider, bringing up just enough attention to make Rusty Pin lean forward in anticipation, then crushing his overblown ego. It made her feel light on her hooves again. Even before Nightmare Moon, it had been many many years since she and Celestia had browsed the dressmakers, and her sister had never gotten the art of the Royal Hope Crushing quite to the level that Luna practiced. It was a competition between them she could always win.

And the third one was...Red. Not just any red, but a blood-red hue that lay across the dressmaker’s dummy like a bloody corpse with black crepe ribbons for intestines, a wafting flow of exsanguination and burned flesh that brought the smell of that murderous night back to her nostrils. Luna recoiled in horror, trying not to think of Nightmare Moon and the horrible night her sister confronted her with the Elements of Harmony. So much blood, so many blackened and dead bodies. She wrenched her thoughts away and stared at the door into the shop, and the one Day Guard who had the decency to look somewhat concerned.

“Perhaps Her Royal Highness would consider—” Rusty Pin cut off abruptly at the thunderous expression on Princess Luna’s face and tried to think of words that would not end badly.

A feminine voice from the shop asked, “How about this one, Your Majesty.” Luna turned to the voice, but the sharp response she had framed for the misuse of the incorrect royal title melted off her tongue as she saw the ethereal floating dress the young pegasus mare carried. Light delicate strands of diamond flecked thread floated through a web of gauzy layers; from the hock to the flank it seemed to be almost translucent, with glowing bits and sparks that resembled a nebula streaming out from the birth of a star. Luna was speechless from awe. She did not want to even levitate the dress out of the hooves of the servant for fear of breaking the spell.

“I-I wanted to make something that you...that would show the world your true majesty.” As Luna tore her eyes away from the dress and looked at the servant, the compliment she was about to speak dried up in her mouth like dust. The young Night Pegasus mare looked back at her with admiring golden cat-like eyes, her sleek black coat shimmering in the dressmaker’s shop lights and her leathery wings tucked back along her flanks underneath an immaculately tailored cloak.

“My name is Laminia, My Princess. I’ve heard so much about you! My family told me stories about the Creation, about how you blessed our kind with sight and power in the night. When I heard you would be attending the Gala, my sole desire was to create a masterpiece that would make you proud. Something that all the stuck up highborn would look at and know that you truly are the Goddess of the Night.”

Luna remained frozen in place, her face a mask that concealed the chaotic thoughts that churned her insides into glass and ice while the Night Pegasus mare babbled on. “All the major designers will be attending, and since the Princess of the Sun never wears anything to the Gala more elaborate than her Accoutrements, we never get to truly showcase our skills.” She stroked the fabric, causing the stars to ripple like an Aurora Borealis and points of starfire to glitter in the darkness. The beauty was all lost to Luna as her mind was fought an inner battle with her memory.

Her creation of the Night Pegasi a millenia ago had been fueled by Nightmare Moon’s power, drawn from the forbidden depths of the Everfree Forest. When that dark power was removed by the Elements of Harmony and she was returned to the castle by her sister, it had seemed to only be a dream she could leave behind and forget ever happened.

Until she met her Night Guards.

Every night since she had been reminded of their reality as the Night Pegasi made up a large portion of her Royal Guard. They stood by her constantly as she attempted to carry out her Royal Duties, a fearsome and persistent memory of her failure. She lived in mortal fear that someday she would see one of the earth ponies or unicorns she had converted while under that terrible majestic power. It was a unsubstantiated fear, she had seen all of her followers wither and die during that terrible fight as if it were yesterday. She had no idea how the Night Pegasi had avoided being consumed by her dark powers, devoured in a frantic blast of power when Nightmare Moon had fought Celestia. When her own sister had used the Elements of Harmony to exile her to the moon. When she had killed her own ponies. When she had become a murderer.

The room seemed to come back into focus as she heard a word in Laminia’s babbling.

“Rarity?” Luna blinked. “The Element of Generosity will be at the Gala?”

“Oh, all of the Element Bearers will be there. Loyalty, Magic and the others. Rarity is supposed to have created display pieces for all of them. Although...” She stroked the fabric again with a sea of rippling stars. “They will all look like rags compared to our Queen of the Night garbed in a dress this powerfu—”

Luna burst out from the dressmaker’s shop at a velocity far in excess of the assigned Guards and flew through the castle as if she were pursued by all the legions of Tartarus, stopping only when she reached her room and slammed the door behind her, this time making a noise loud enough to satisfy even her.

An hour later, Princess Celestia sat in her private receiving room gently removing tissues from a box and handing them over to a sobbing Night Pegasus mare. A rap at the door preceded the entry of one very groggy Night Guard escorted by a older Day Guard whom the Princess nodded at in recognition.

“Sergeant Stonehammer. Stay.” Celestia looked quizzically at Pumpernickel. “Again?”

The Night Guard caught himself before bowing. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. I live closest to the castle, so I was the first one they found.”

She sighed. “Very well. You all know I am very concerned about my sister Luna, and this afternoon I’m afraid she may have taken a very strong turn for the worse.” The Princess of the Sun seemed to dim as she looked down at the floor. “And I’m responsible.”

“Harrumph,” grumbled the older Guard. “Pish posh and fiddlesticks. Princess, you’ve done everything you can for your sister—”

“That’s the point,” she said, interrupting the old stallion. “I’ve been at her side every day since Nightmare Moon was defeated. She is wallowing in guilt because she thinks she betrayed me, and now she thinks I don’t trust her, and nothing I say or do seems likely to change that. My very presence is disturbing her and chipping away at her mind. I can not send her away to live elsewhere, and I can not run away myself, which would make things worse because she would think I was afraid of her either way. Which I am not.”

“So why are you bringing the Elements of Harmony to your party tomorrow night?” snuffled Laminia. “You’re afraid she’s going to turn into Nightmare Moon again, and you want them here to stop her and put her back in the moon again. That’s why she ran.” The Night Pegasus mare burst out in tears again and buried her head in a clump of tissues.

The Princess of the Sun leaned into the young mare and sympathetically covered her with a wing. “No, I don’t. No matter what she may think, my sister does not have a bit of that horrible monster in her. I most certainly do not need to bring Twilight and her friends to use the Elements again. They are just going to be here because it’s a party. I am thankful they released my beloved sister from her imprisonment, so it is the least I can do to show my appreciation.” Celestia paused. “Perhaps they can even free my sister from the prison of her own mind with the friendship they show each other. I certainly hope so, and I’m willing to give it a chance. I’m afraid it may be my last opportunity."

* * *

As Pumpernickel walked the young Night Pegasus back to her house in the harsh afternoon sunlight, he could not help but puzzle at the edges of the problem with Laminia.

“Do you think Princess Luna....do you think it will do her good to go to the Gala?”

The young Night Pegasus mare shook her head sadly. “No. You did not see her in the shop. She hides it well, but she is terrified, I think, of herself. Before I thought it was a wonderful idea, her gliding across the dance floor in my beautiful gown, getting to know the cream of Canterlot Royalty. When she bolted....If that were to happen at the Gala, she would never recover.”

“Do you think the Princess is truly afraid of her sister?”

Laminia shook her head. “I cannot imagine Princess Celestia being afraid of anything.”

“Wrong princess.”

“Oh.” The mare walked with her head cocked to one side while thinking. “Why?”

“I have an idea. If the reason for this depression of hers is because Princess Luna is afraid of her sister, then every day she is in her presence just makes it worse. She needs a break, away from here. Somewhere she can find herself.”

The mare rolled her eyes. “You heard Princess Celestia. If she sends Luna away, or leaves herself, that will just make our Princess worse. How can they be separated if they don’t leave?”

“But. What if Luna were to leave on her own. Go away for a while. Away from her sister and everything associated with her.”

Laminia shook her head until her mane rustled. “No, wherever she goes, she will have guards. She must have guards to protect her. And she knows those guards have sworn loyalty to Celestia, they would be a constant reminder.”

"Perhaps. I have an idea."

* * *

Just after midnight that night, Princess Luna was awakened from a fitful doze by a familiar light tapping on the door. At first she attempted to block it out, but it continued until she snapped, “Go away.”

“Princess of the Night,” came a relatively quiet familiar voice. “Your subjects hereby request an audience with you about issues of the greatest importance.”

A cold prickling traveled up Luna’s spine as she heard the familiar phrase. “Go away,” she called out weakly. “You know not what you request.”

“By ties of blood and bone we are your subjects. Your magic created us, we live to serve you. A second time we call out to you, hear our plea.”

“No,” she whispered, hiding under the covers. “Do not do this. Please.”

“Our lives are yours to command. We live or die at your word. A third time we call out to you, hear our plea.”

Long moments passed, then there was an almost inaudible click as the door to Luna’s bedchamber swung open, revealing the Princess of the Night standing in the doorway, fully dressed with all the accoutrements of office. With expressionless eyes she looked at the two score of Night Guard lying prostrate in the hallway, all with faces placed firmly against the cold stones.

“Arise, and speak. Your Princess of the Night will listen.”

Pumpernickel got carefully to his hooves, and knelt at the feet of Luna, Princess of the Night, followed by the rest of the Night Guards at his flank. “All of your people in your Night Guard have discussed this, and we all are in agreement. If you so desire, we shall discontinue our allegiance to Princess Celestia and swear exclusive loyalty to you, as our Queen.”

Chap. 4 - Come Little Children

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream Chapter 4
--Georg (Editing by AlicornPriest)

(Courtesy of Bonaxor Link )
(Edit 10/2015 to link to updated picture)

Come little children
I'll take thee away, into a land
of Enchantment

Come little children
the time's come to play
here in my garden
of Shadows

Follow sweet children
I'll show thee the way
through all the pain and
the Sorrows

John Debney: "Come Little Children"

An alert observer watching Princess Luna’s face while the Night Guard knelt and awaited her decision might have possibly noticed something beneath the steel-like expression, the cold piercing blue eyes, and the narrowed brow. He might have called it apprehension, or tension, or even concern at the thought of her guards admitting they would be willing to commit treason on her behalf. But the observer would have been wrong.

The Princess turned her back on the guards and looked out into the night. “Follow,” she said in a voice far too small, and floated out the balcony and up into the starry sky, swooping down into the city, then sweeping up into the clouds with powerful strokes of her wings that made the Night Guard struggle to keep up. Only one pony noticed them leave the castle ground, an older Royal Courier out for a bit of night air in the gardens, and he just stood and watched them vanish into the distance without a word.

* * *

Less than an hour later, the Princess swept down from the sky and landed on the top floor of a ruined building, one of several that lay scattered around in the mist amid the scraggly forest and deep crevices of the Everfree Forest. Panting for breath, the rest of the Night Guard landed on the building behind her, exchanging looks of concern and bafflement.

Luna stood and gazed across stones overgrown with a thousand years of vegetation and decay, pausing only to point with one hoof at the edge of the broken roof overlooking the ruins. “STAND HERE. ALL OF YOU.”

The Princess who had once been the creature known as Nightmare Moon turned back from the Night Guard and looked out again across the fallen buildings as if she were looking back in time a thousand years or more. For a long time she stood immobile as the stones in the rubble, staring into the distant mists and strange lights that flickered in the forest. Then she began to speak in a very small voice.

“A millennium ago, Nightmare Moon… I left Canterlot filled with rage and anger at my sister, a rage so great I still feel the tug of it now. We flew here, to this very spot I stand upon tonight. Over a thousand of my followers, along with those who followed me at one time and had forsaken my...guidance were spread out across where you see now. And I spoke to them and told them this was where I was going to build their perfect world. A world with no sorrow, no pain, no grief, no regrets. Right here on the site of the Winter Castle. My home where I was born. The home where I grew up, where my… sister grew. And where my parents died at the end of their natural lives. Immortality can be a terrible curse, to see those around you age and die. Not a single being who lived then, lives now. Except my sister.”

She waved a trembling hoof across the visible landscape. “My followers set to work immediately, following the direction I… Nightmare Moon gave them. We raised a great castle in a single night, using the power which we were able to draw. Foolish power, power drawn from the depths of Equestria far beyond that which should have been. Power to bring about Night Eternal. Celestia....my sister felt the agony of the earth, she flew here to try to convince me of the error of my ways. But I… rejected her. Spurned her. And in the end I even… struck out at her. She fought back. I drew on the power of this place and drove her away."

Luna twisted as if in agony. "No. That is wrong.” The dark alicorn turned to her Night Guard who stood entranced. “Have you ever wondered what became of the rest of your brethren? There were hundreds of earth ponies and unicorns who stood with me, all of whom I had ’blessed’ in the same way as your ancestors. Have you ever wondered what happened to them? Did you think you were alone? DID YOU NOT CARE?”

With no response from the cringing Guard, she turned back to the ruins as if they were her only real audience. “The power I drew from this place came to me through their bodies. The earth ponies were first to sicken and die when my sister returned my blows. Then the unicorns. She flew away. She fled her own sister. Because she was killing them through… my actions.”

She gestured beyond the ruins, to the twisted trees and rocks that surrounded them. “I called to the misunderstood creatures of Equestria when we built the castle, I called them into the lush and verdant forest that was then two score times the size of this twisted and perverted place. I called them to their doom. When I drew upon the power of this place, I drove them mad. With the power that I called up, I destroyed all that was good and pure about this place. My followers. Their children. My home. And the graves of my parents.”

Pumpernickel stuttered, “B-b-but that was a thousand years ago. Now we—”

“A THOUSAND YEARS FOR YOUR KIND, BUT FOR ME IT HAS BEEN BUT A FEW MONTHS!” shouted Luna before falling silent.

“I…” The Night Guard stopped and struggled for a word. “See” would be trite, and nothing else seemed to be appropriate at this time. Finally, the Princess began to speak again.

“I can only guess what happened after she returned with the Elements of Harmony and trapped my disembodied form in the moon. Time did not pass as you experience it. Oh, I felt the passage of the years, but only as a flicker. And yet...” She paused and looked up at the moon, high in the night sky. “Somehow I could still feel my sister. The part of me that was Nightmare Moon raged in incoherent fury, but deep inside in a small corner of my heart I was...glad.”

She turned on the Night Guard with cold rage. “The blood of the innocent is on my hooves! I do not deserve your oath of loyalty, AND I SHALL NEVER BE YOUR QUEEN!” Echoes of the Royal Canterlot Voice echoed through the ruins, the wisps of fog among the stones giving an eerie sensation of ghosts murmuring in the darkness. The Princess turned back to the ruins with a sniff and hung her head.

“Your loyalty shall always be to my sister, for she alone is worthy, and I… am a fool.” She silently laid down on the edge of the building and turned to look away from the Night Guards.

“Go. Return to Canterlot. I shall be along shortly.”

Pumpernickel started to turn back to the rest of the guard and paused. There was something he had seen in her eyes, something that scratched at the back of his mind and would not go away. And then realization hit him like a brick. The trembling Night Guard looked back at the rest of his companions, then turned back to the Princess.

“No.”

“No?” Luna turned on Pumpernickel in a fury. “HOW DARE YOU REFUSE A ROYAL ORDER! GO! NOW!” Half of the guard were blown off the edge of the roof with the volume, and chose to hover rather than land again while Pumpernickel leaned into the Voice and planted his hooves.

“No,” said Pumpernickel, gaining volume and swallowing hard. “Since you will not accept our exclusive loyalty, we are still bound by oath to Princess Celestia. And to you. As such, it would be a failure of our oath to leave you here. By yourself.” It took great presence of mind for Pumpernickel to not look down the side of the building at the fog-strewn rocky gorge below, a fall that certainly would prove fatal if he were to pull in his wings and drop into it. Or if she did.

It took every speck of courage he had to look back into the eyes of Princess Luna, to meet her steely blue gaze with his yellow oval eyes. It seemed as if for that moment that a thousand ghosts long dead were standing behind him, feeding him their strength, giving him the will he needed to stare her down and prevent the Princess from making a terrible choice. Then the Princess’s ears drooped down and her head fell. Even her celestial mane seemed to fall listlessly as if the invisible wind had ceased to blow.

“Fine.”

It was hours later that the sorry procession slowly flapped over the castle walls and to Princess Luna’s room. A careful observer would have noticed the number of Night Guards on duty outside her room that night had seemingly doubled, and how they seemed less worried about outside threats attacking than their charge fleeing. A very careful observer would have noted the light from Luna’s room was not turned off for the rest of the night. But there were no observers out in the gardens, not even a unicorn just out for the night air.

Chap. 5 - And Steep My Senses In Forgetfulness

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream Chapter 5
--Georg (Editing by AlicornPriest)

How many thousand of my poorest subjects
Are at this hour asleep! O sleep, O gentle sleep,
Nature’s soft nurse, how have I frighted thee,
That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down
And steep my senses in forgetfulness?

King Henry - Act 3 Scene 1 W. Shakespeare

Celestia sat in the shattered remnants of the Hall of the Royal Sisters under her uncaring morning sun, feeling the Elements of Harmony fall from her shoulders. It was the ultimate betrayal, for hundreds of years since she had combined her power with Luna and the Elements to imprison Discord, the Elements of Harmony had fairly sung with a power that both sisters had shared without conflict. Now she had betrayed both her sister and the Elements by using their power to seal Luna away in her own moon.

Laughter was the first gem to fall from her golden yoke, dropping to the stone floor with what sounded like a giggle and rolling itself up into a stone ball. There would be no more laughter in the Royal Castle, her sister Luna was imprisoned in the moon forever.

Then Loyalty fell, hitting the floor with a crash. Luna had always been there for her, they had always stuck together through thick and thin. Until now.

Kindness barely made a noise as it fell, the stone silently formed around it and it shyly rolled to a far corner of the room, as if to flee from one who would be so cruel as to imprison their own sister.

Generosity and Honesty fell at the same time as if they could not exist without each other, each rolling into a stone ball and laying at her hooves with the rest of the rubble.

Then Magic. The last stone fell from the Elements of Harmony and struck the floor in a pool of Celestia’s tears, not rolling itself up into a stone, but like a drop of water hitting an ocean. Ripples swam through the room, cutting through her misery and sorrow with a single note of pure beauty. And a voice. “On the longest day of the thousandth year, the stars will aid in her escape, and she will bring about nighttime eternal. Unless...”

* * *

Pony Joe went to the Parnell Pitch 5000 (*)Cappuccino machine and flipped a bright red safety lever up and out of the way, before reaching for a knob. Slowly he turned it up from ‘Regular’ past ‘Strong’ and even past ‘Lethal’, stopping at the final notch. ‘Celestia.’ A howling noise filled the shop as the grinder began to grind, the foamer began to foam, and the smell of tortured steel and glass began to fill the air. Using a heavy oven mitt, he retrieved a double-hoof sized cup from the cabinet and slid it gingerly into the receiving slot. The machine groaned, and a thick black bubble formed on the spout, stretching out to the coffee cup which seemed to recoil away in fear, then hitting the bottom in a coal-black lump that hissed as it began the slow task of eating away the bottom of the cup and attaining freedom. One obsidian glop at a time the cup slowly filled, with tiny white specks in the night-dark brew that seemed to shine with the light of distant stars (or dissolved porcelain). Finally as the noises began to die, a white lump of foam dropped on top, bubbling and fuming with a hiss that resembled a dairy scream.

“Here you go Princess,” the hefty unicorn said, sliding the oversized cup onto a ceramic and steel coaster on the table.

“Thank you,” murmured Celestia, as she turned a page in the report she was reading and absently picked up her coffee to take a drink. The swallow as the first sip went down could be seen all the way down her technicolor mane, which sparkled brightly as a ripple of brilliant light slowly descended from head to hock. Ahh, she thought. Just about right. If only it could be a little stronger. She took another sip and continued to work her way through the reports, while outside the emotionless stars shone down for the few hours they had remaining until banished by the dawn.

“Tough night, Your Highness?”

Celestia always thought the donut shop proprietor looked a little like a glazed regular with caramel topping due to his coat and mane coloring, and the fatigue of the late night sessions momentarily caused her to actually see him as such, before she blinked and brought the world back into focus. Unfortunately that focus included a stack of some very critical reports on the table that just had to be read through and a final decision made by morning or it would seriously cut into her time before that blasted Gala.

“We had an agreement,” she murmured before returning to the report and taking another sip.

“I know, I know.” The chunky unicorn scowled and wiped down the table in his otherwise empty store. “But sumpthin is buggin’ ya fierce, and that just ain’t right.”

There was a tiny click as Celestia sat her coffee cup on the reinforced coaster and gave Pony Joe a stern look that normally turned residents of the castle into little quivering piles of jelly. This was one of the reasons she preferred to sneak out of the castle for a late-night snack here instead of the Royal Kitchens, where the royal servants always tried to stay close at hoof and made such big deals out of minor requests. “Would you like another dollop of whipped cream, Your Highness?” “Have you tried the cinnamon spiced apple cider, Your Highness?” “Is there anything else we can get you, Your Highness?”

The Princess sighed, “Why do you think something is bothering me? It must be serious if you are willing to break our longstanding agreement. You remember, no discussion, no small talk, just keep the maple cremes and coffee coming?”

“Yeah, it’s just....you done read that same folder three times already.”

Celestia looked at the report in shock, flipped to the end, and dropped it back in her bag. “Stupid reports anyway. Buck ‘em all.”

“Sorry, Your Highness. Your sister still not sleepin right?”

The Royal Stare returned to the unicorn shopkeeper, this time turned up to Melt. “What have you heard of our sister?”

He shrugged, oblivious to the focused stream of wrath that should have at least had smoke rolling from his mane. “We’re open late night, your boys up in the castle drop by after work, before work. They normally don’t let nuttin slip important like, but like I says, they’re worried too. I tells ‘em you got things well in hoof, dey ain’t too sure. Specially the bats. Err, I mean the Night Guard,” he quickly corrected, as the Royal Glare began to creep up to lethal intensity.

The Princess sighed, and bit off a chunk of maple creme donut as if it were an offending nosy pony’s head. “Yes. She’s not sleeping well. And she is growing more distant by the day.”

“D’ya think she’s gonna turn....I mean....Nightmare Moon?”

“No,” Celestia said distantly. “That was long ago....”

“Princess! Princess! Your sister is flying away with all her followers!” The Guardpony was almost frantic as she burst uninvited into her meeting and showed her the exodus in progress.

“Good riddance!” spat Celestia in fury as she went to the edge of the balcony and watched the dark mass of ponies vanish off into the darkness. “She has spurned me, insulted me, and done all but strike me over the past few months. Perhaps this means we will get some peace for a change.”

“But...” The Guardspony paused, looking conflicted. “She took some who were not her followers anymore. There are at least three families we know of who had spurned her, and cannot be found.”

Celestia looked off into the distance with a growing sense of unease. “No. That can not be. Check again. My sister would never force somepony to go with her into exile.” The Princess of the Sun stood on the balcony for hours, looking out into the dark city as more and more reports came flowing back. Missing children, missing families, reports of their removal under cover of darkness, and the occasional body where a pony resisted their capture too efficiently. And worse, a growing sense of discomfort and pain as if her sister were drawing upon dark powers long forbidden.

“We must do something, My Princess.” The Guard captain pointed to her soldiers already massing over the city walls. “I can have a force of several hundred after the rebels in under an hour. They seem to be building something in the Wintercastle area, but our scouts cannot get close to look. Their air patrols are stronger than ours, and there are beasts in the forest that were not there before.”

“No.” Celestia stood and spread her wings. “We will go and speak with our sister alone. Stay here and await our return. We should be back before dawn.”

“Princess? Are you there? Princess?” She blinked at the sight of the donut shop proprietor waving a fragrant raspberry-filled Bismarck in front of her nose. “Oh, good. You kinda tranced out there again, had me worried.”

Celestia stifled an embarrassed yawn. “We apologize for our actions. It seems we have not been sleeping well either. Perhaps some more coffee...” She looked at where the remaining coffee had dissolved out the very bottom of her cup and was working on eating its way through the table. “Or not.”

“Princess, you gotta get some sleep. That fancy party can run just fine without your help on the planning end, but if you drop off in the middle of it like that, ponies are gonna talk. Maybe your sister is just having nerves about the big party too.”

The Princess shook her head. “No, I could only wish.” She swept the table clean of paperwork into a bag, somehow managing to include the Bismarck in the collection for later. “Farewell for now. We shall take thine advice to heart, and catch at least a nap between now and the festivities.”

“And take these back for yer sister please?” Pony Joe brought out a warm bag with the familiar smell of maple icing wafting from its hidden depths. “It’s the least I can do for her.”

“We thank you.” Celestia gave a nod of her head and a wink. “But next time we expect you to abide by our agreement.”

“No conversation, maple frosted donuts, and keep the coffee strong and refilled. Got it.” Pony Joe watched the Princess trot out the front door, and regally fly up into the air back to the castle, followed by the two Guard pegasi who had been standing out in front of the store. “Worst tipper in the city,” he muttered as he began cleaning up the mess. “She must be worried as all getout to slip back into talking all Royal.”

* * *

“I still don’t see why I have to do it.” Pumpernickel split his glare between the breakfast cart and his superior in the Night Watch. Actually, since he was low pony on the Buffalo Pole, almost everypony in the Night Watch was his superior, but his recent antics had only made a bad thing worse.

“You’re the one who talked us into that crazy idea about swearing to Luna, you’re the only one with the big brass ones who talked to both her and Princess Celestia, and you’re the one—” The Night Guard with the grey hairs in his mane gave the breakfast cart one last looking over before pushing it over to Pumpernickel “Who is outranked. So shut up and do your job. Before we get you an apron.”

“Yes sir. Right away sir.” He muttered under his breath as he turned and rapped lightly on the bedroom door. “Join the Guard. Serve breakfast. Get murdered by thousand year old princesses who think they are slipping back into the past.”

Raising his voice, he called out, “Princess Luna, your breakfast is here.” A faint grumbling noise from inside the room gave him a momentary hope that the Princess of the Night had actually fallen asleep, perhaps snoring too loud to hear the light knock on her — horseapples. The faint click of the latch preceded the door swinging silently open.

“Come in, and bring the cart.”

Pumpernickel shrugged and looked helplessly at his Night Guard commander, who was trading positions with the Day Guard commander Ixnay and his partner while paying him slightly less than zero attention. “This sucks,” he muttered to himself as he pushed the cart quietly into the Princess’s dark bedroom. His heart nearly stopped when the door slammed shut behind him.

“Thousand year old princesses who think they are slipping back into the past?” The voice of Princess Luna was very soft and very... predatory.

(*) The motto of the Parnell Pitch company was “Good to the last drop — No matter how long it takes.”

Chap. 6 - Close My Willing Eyes

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream Chapter 6
--Georg (Editing by AlicornPriest)

O soft embalmer of the still midnight,

Shutting, with careful fingers and benign,
Our gloom-pleas'd eyes, embower'd from the light,

Enshaded in forgetfulness divine:
O soothest Sleep! if so it please thee, close

In midst of this thine hymn my willing eyes,

“To Sleep” by John Keats

Her Highness, Princess Luna, Co-Regent of Equestria and Princess of the Night, lay in the middle of her bedroom floor while clutching her gut with both forelegs and rolling back and forth. The strange noise she was making finally died down to a low squeaking noise, muffled by the pillow over her face but not muffled enough to prevent the Night Guard in her private bathroom from hearing.

“It wasn’t that funny.”

For some reason that set the Princess off yet again in another roll of hysterical laughter across the floor. Pumpernickel was just glad the Royal Door was thick and sound muffled, the Royal Window had been replaced, with Royal Curtains over it to block the possibility of any other Royal Guard having seen his reaction to Princess Luna’s “little prank”. Or his life in the Guard would be Royally Sc—

“Hic!”

“That isn’t funny either, Your Highness.”

“Hic! Oh, you should have seen your face. Hic!”

The Night Guard spat carefully in the toilet and made inventory of his physical and emotional wounds: The lump on his head from running into the bathroom door seemed to be receding, he had finished puking up everything he had eaten for the last three days, and thank Celestia he had made it to the toilet first. He could have sworn Luna had just materialized out of the darkness when she licked his ear and sent him recoiling away in panic, *that* was certainly never mentioned in the Tradition stories! It was most probably his duty as a Royal Guard to gently chastise the Princess for such...improper activities, but with what she had been through lately, he just didn’t have the heart to break her bubble. This was actually the first time he had heard her laugh in a month. Or hiccup. Although the laughter was probably better for her.

Traditionally the Night Pegasi were given a name from the Book of Tradition when they were adopted into a family, as it had been so since the Creation. Most infant Night Pegasi born to common ponies and brought to Canterlot for adoption either had no names at all or inappropriate names like “Abomination” or “That Thing”. He was the fourth to hold the name of Pumpernickel: The first had died on the night of the Banishment, the second had crashed in training, the third had laid down his life in defense of a diplomat to the Griffon kingdom, futile as it was for the diplomat had died immediately afterwards. And now his name was going to be entered in the Book of Tradition with the notation “Died of embarrassment after throwing up in Princess Luna’s bathroom”, oh how glorious and noble that was going to be for the next colt stuck with the name, if any. He washed his face in the basin and dried himself on a fluffy pink towel.

“Pumpernickel, you are an idiot,” he said quietly into the mirror. “A screw-up of the worst order and a laughing stock of the Guard, an embarrassment to your family, and to your entire line.” He rubbed his face harder into the towel in some forlorn hope that perhaps shame was water-soluble and could just be washed away.

Outside the bathroom door the laughter and hiccups slowly transitioned to a low sobbing.

“Princess?” He peeked out the door, hoping she had not overheard his conversation with the mirror.

“Go away,” she sobbed, laying in a indigo heap in the middle of her bedroom. For some reason, the missing tiara and tabard did not bother him as much now. Perhaps getting licked on the ear was some sort of hazing ritual for the Royal Guard that prepared them for their position. Or not. He cleared his raw throat to talk, but could not think of anything to say except, “I’m sorry I got hair on your towel.”

She remained laying in her miserable pile, like some soggy dark swan from the Royal Lake. “My towel? Hic!”

“Yes, my Princess. I apologize, I traded lunches with Vega and I think his spinach and avocado dip had been left out too long.” His mistreated stomach took that moment to rumble loudly, indicating its agreement with his diagnosis. “Excuse me. I really should be going.”

“My pink, Hic! fluffy towel?”

He cringed. “Yes, I’m sorry Your Highness. I’ll have one of the maids bring up a new one.” He eyed the closed door out into the corridor, trying to think of something to cheer the Princess up. “That was a very good prank, Your Highness. I’m sorry I had to ruin it by throwing up. And getting your towel dirty.”

“My pink, fluffy towel with the little bunnies on it? Hic!”

“Err...” He looked down at the towel in his hooves with a sudden sinking sensation in his gut. Bunnies, why did it have to be bunnies?

“Sit.” The Royal Hoof emerged from the mixture of pouting princess and crumpled covers to point to a spot just to one side of the breakfast cart.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to get a replacement—”

“Now!” The Night Pegasus folded himself up into the designated position with a painful thump. “Remain until I have considered thine punishment for soiling the Royal Towel.” Princess Luna opened the breakfast cart slowly and painfully, picking through the contents one item at a time. And there were many, many items. She counted for a while and sighed.

“A plethora of rolled dough nuts with maple icing? And cheesecake? Oh, no. Cheesecakes. Plural. Who in Equestria eats cheesecakes for breakfast? And fourteen types of fruit, we do not even know what kind these are, or if they are palatable to the Royal Tongue. Here.”

A chunk of unidentified yellow fruit levitated over to Pumpernickel, who considered the hopeful possibility that it might be poisonous until he tasted it. “Yech.” He stuck his tongue out and looked for a napkin, not even considering spitting it out on Luna’s pink towel. With bunnies. Deciding that maybe there was a possibility it was really poisonous after all, he gave a swallow.

“That’s....horrible,” he mumbled.

“Ah, good then. Here, try this.” Luna’s dark-blue aura on the fruit combined with his recent bout with the porcelain potty did not make the job of Royal Food-Tester any easier, but as Vega would say, he shut up and kept doing his job until he ran out of job to do.

“*Buuurpp* Hic! Oh fudge.” Luna held a hoof over her mouth. “Pardon us.” She looked at the guard, who had not moved from his dejected position at the other end of the breakfast cart and gestured him towards her.

“You’re looking better this morning, Princess!” he blurted out before blushing and sitting where he was pointed. “Sorry.”

“Despite your treatment of the Royal Towel, twas we who gave the greater and first of wrongs, it should be us who apologizes to you first.” Princess Luna coldly drank the last of her apple juice and placed the empty glass on the cart. “We apologize for our...assault upon thine ear.”

“Oh, that’s nothing Princess, I—”

“Silence! We have not completed our words.”

“Sorry! I mean....” Pumpernickel trailed off and tried to look...anywhere else as Luna levitated the Royal Accoutrements from their stand and put them on, carefully adjusting the tiara as she spoke.

“Our prank caused you pain and discomfort, and as such was an affront upon Our Royal House. The position of Royal Guard is a noble and ancient one, not to be sullied by immature pranks from their charges. By my actions, I brought dishonor upon both Our House, and thine. Thou mayest accept my apology now.”

“No! Honestly, Princess, it was just a little—”

The Princess fluffed up as if she had been physically struck. “No? You do not accept my apology? You wish more?”

“No!! That’s not it, I mean it wasn’t such a big thing, you really don’t need to—”

“Thou wouldst insult the Royal House by not accepting our apology offered in good faith?”

“No! I mean yes! I mean...You didn’t really do anything that needed apologized for, I would forgive you even without an apolog—”

A deep rumble of thunder sounded, far too near for Pumpernickel’s taste, and Luna’s eyes flashed white. “YOU WILL ACCEPT OUR APOLOGY. NOW!”

“This is just what you’re doing to your sister!” The words leapt out of Pumpernickel’s mouth unbidden, despite his best efforts to restrain them. His eyes closed, the guard curled up on the floor and waited for the lightning to strike him dead, but the only sound he heard was a soft weeping. When he opened his eyes, the indigo alicorn was again curled up on her bed, more tears streaming down her damp cheeks. He felt like such a heel; his ears drooped, his wings dragged the floor, and he hung his head. “I’m sorry to have said that.”

The weeping from the Princess slackened. “Thou art forgiven. Verily, there was truth in thy words. We are sorry also.”

Pumpernickel paused to think this time. “I accept your apology, My Princess, even though I believe the slight upon the Night Guard and myself was...unimportant. Very small. The guards pull such pranks among their ranks all the time.” Unspoken was the thought that the youngest and lowest rank would of course be subject to the manticore's share of such pranks.

“Well, not exactly that kind of thing, nopony has ever licked my ear in the wardroom. Generally they stick with the tried and true favorites, itching powder, whoopie cushions, rubber spears, mattas. It’s all in good fun.” He rubbed the lump on his head and grimaced. “Although I’d pay cash bits to see you do that ear-thing to Sergeant Ixnay.” The faint chuckle from inside the damp indigo lump on the bed indicated a successful strike.

“But you should choose your targets carefully if you consider trying it again, I don’t think some of the older Night Guards would...survive that. Half of them are out this morning with wing splints from last night’s .... well, they’re getting old. I-I don’t think any of them would have gone along with my hare-brained idea last night if they had not seen how badly you were feeling, and how desperate we all were to find something, anything to make you feel better.”

He hung his head and stared at the door. “I’m such a jerk. Are you still angry at me?”

“Yes. No. Not if you have my towel laundered and returned.” She sniffed, and hiccupped again. “Otherwise we will be most vexed.” She hiccupped again and sniffed. “Although your intentions of last night were pure at heart, the aftereffects were most....unpleasant. I am quite aware of such hubris.” There was a long unspoken pause where it seemed as if the ghost of Nightmare Moon hovered over the room. Pumpernickel shuddered and tried to look even smaller.

“Is this what...No, I should go. May I be excused?” One indigo hoof extended from the bed and pointed.

“There. Now. Sit.” A turquoise-blue eye opened as Pumpernickel walked slowly to the appointed spot beside the Royal Bed and sat down. “Speak. Tell us of what foolishness you were going to say. We order it.”

The nervous Night Guard swallowed. “If this is what has been bothering you about your sister...This cannot be all of it. Was it something Princess Celestia said to you? Something one of the guards said? Something I said?” Luna shook her head at each question. “Something somepony else said? There was a hesitation in her headshake that Pumpernickel pounced on. “A servant? Another guard? A supplicant?”

“A voice,” she whispered. “A terrible, awful voice in my dreams.” Luna bolted up out of her blanket nest with alarm. “Thou shalt not tell!”

“Thy Guard is ever loyal to you,” said Pumpernickel carefully. “We shall hold your words in the strictest of confidence. Tell me of the...voice. Is it Nightmare Moon?”

The Princess shook her head so hard her mane flew about, and began to talk about the voice, how it had begun to sound in her sleep a few weeks ago and the long-buried fears and frustrations it brought up. By the time she had gotten to the present, it seemed as if the tension that had held her for so long was leaking out with every word she spoke. Her voice got quieter and quieter as she spoke of the sleepless nights, and horrors so long ago. As her voice waned, the guard found himself getting closer and closer to hear until all he could hear was a faint snore.

He sat back with an unvocalized sigh. The Princess was so angry at her sister for things that he just could not understand. To be so enraged at her sister for Celestia’s kind and loving nature just seemed like kicking a puppy. Then again, he had grown up almost literally in the shadow of Princess Celestia. The legendary and fearsome Princess of the Sun in the Traditions never seemed to match the quiet and compassionate Princess of Canterlot, who raised the Sun each day and the Moon each night, and brought peace, justice and prosperity to everypony in Equestria. In the evening after the Traditional stories were over and all the foals had gone to sleep, the adults gathered quietly and whispered their own stories from personal experiences: How before Luna’s return, every night Princess Celestia raised the Moon in private, so nopony could see the pain she felt, how even now the night sky still seemed so bland and commonplace compared to the glorious beauty Luna had bestowed upon it, and how when Luna had finally returned, Celestia had instantly accepted her long-lost sister with such love and affection that nopony doubted the depths of her sincerity. Except one. No, that was not quite true. She knew Celestia was honest with her acceptance and love, but it seemed to make Luna feel imperfect and dirty somehow.

And maybe it was just a female thing, but all the other things Princess Luna seemed to be worried about were just such trivial things: What her sister secretly thought of her, what the ponies of the city thought of her, what the surrounding countries thought of her....there was a lot of her in her thoughts. Maybe that was just the way Royalty worked. Then again, Princess Celestia seemed to worry more about everypony else than herself. Perhaps it was the sun-and-moon “thing” that he and many others were still trying to get a hoof on. The Night Pegasus Tradition said very little about the two sisters being so close but instead seemed to focus on the relative goddess-hood and conflict between them. Mentally reviewing the stories of his foalhood most definitely gave a split-personality view between Reality and Legend, and the two views clashed most fiercely when the Princess in both views was at hoofs-length from him. He looked down and suddenly realized that was more accurately ‘less than hoofs-length, in fact direct contact’ because the sleeping Princess Luna had somehow wrapped her hooves around his like he was some sort of fuzzy bedtime cuddle-creature.

Pumpernickel eyed the door. Then he eyed the Princess’s hoof wrapped around his. Then he thought about her very sensitive hearing. Then he thought about what Celestia would do to him if he screwed up the first time Luna had slept soundly in days. Then he wished he hadn’t thought of that because of the distance between him and the bathroom. He settled down on the floor of the bedchamber, trying not to move his hoof, trying not to think of what the rest of the Night Guard would say after spending this much time in the Princess’s room, and tried desperately with all his energy not to snore too.

* * *

“WHAT ART THOU DOING!” There was no doubt, Royal Canterlot Voice for a wakeup call was highly effective. Pumpernickel tumbled across the bedroom floor like a badminton shuttlecock in a hurricane, vanishing into the Royal Bathroom with a solid thump.

“Ow!”

“Oh stars, it’s almost moonrise! Oh no, I slept in the accoutrements! They’re wrinkled! I’ve got raspberry seeds in my teeth! What are you doing in my bathroom?”

“Bleeding? Ow!”

“Tis but a scratch. Now get out! Go get my dress and some servants. And a toothbrush. Oh never mind, I’ll borrow Celly’s.”

“Ow.”

“What are you waiting on!” The petulant princess pointed pretentiously and pouted. “Proceed promptly to procure some of those pin-headed pompous peons so that I may be primped and prepared properly with panache for my premiere party performance. Pronto!”

“Ow.”

The Princess poked her nose in the bathroom and regarded her guard with growing concern. “You aren’t bleeding on my pink towel, are you?”

“Only the floor I think. Ow. Can I sit for just a minute until Equestria quits spinning, my Princesses?” His cross-eyed gaze looked up at her with more than a little trouble focusing as if he could not determine just which Princess was the real one.

“Oh. Well. Yes of course. I’ll just take my shower while waiting....predictable,” Princess Luna said with a chuckle as the guardspony zipped out of the bathroom and around the corner. “Don’t forget the dress,” she called out as she opened the front door to allow his escape. “Otherwise I’ll have to go to the Gala dressed just like this!” She could not help but laugh again at the panicked “Eep” that he made as the clatter of his hooves faded in the distance.

Through an effort of will only found in historical ballads, within thirty minutes Pumpernickel found himself back in front of Princess Luna’s door fully equipped with the items his liege had commanded he retrieve: One freshly cleaned fuzzy pink towel (with bunnies), one toothbrush (new, not borrowed from her sister), one shimmering dress (in wrapper), one lump (bandaged), and one collection of promises from the royal servants that they would be at Luna’s room mere minutes behind him, bearing an astonishing collection of primping products he would not have been surprised to see in the castle armory.

He trotted up to the two on-duty Royal Guards only slightly out of breath and saluted. “Private Pumpernickel with proper primping products for the Princess, requesting permission to pass.”

Sergeant Ixnay looked him up and down, his long elegant horn casting a detection spell over the tired Night Guard. “You are recognized. You may pass.” Lowering his voice, he continued, “Sheesh Pumper, what kind of banging did you and the Princess do in there? Your mane is in knots and it looks like your face got the headboard pretty solid.” He tapped his horn with one hoof and whispered, “Too bad you don’t have one of these.” The two guards snickered as the sounds of palace servants coming up the stairs began to sound behind Pumpernickel.

“Yeah, Pumper. That’s gonna be your new nickname around here,” the other Guard said in a whisper. “Looks like you found your place around here. Lovercolt.” Both guards snickered as the corridor began to fill up with servants.

The door to the Royal Bedroom opened silently a few inches and the soft musical voice of Luna emerged. “Oh Sergeant Ixnay? I’m done with my shower but I don’t have my towel. Can you bring it to me please?”

With an absolutely straight face, Pumpernickel hoofed over the pink towel to Ixnay and saluted. “Good Luck, Sir,” he whispered with a wink.

The unicorn Guard gave the Night Guard a rather startled look in response before returning the salute. “Yes, Your Highness, of course. I will be right there.”

Ixnay levitated the pink fluffy towel in front of him like it was some sort of shield and vanished into the darkened Royal Bedroom, while Pumpernickel faded back into the group of palace servants with a grin. “Ladies, you may want to cover your ears. The Princess is feeling better.”

The soft and predatory voice of Princess Luna emerged from the nearly-closed bedroom door. “Your Princess has NEEDS!” There was a deafening scream, followed by the thump against the now-closed bedroom door and a scrabble of hooves looking in vain for a doorknob. But over all, the long-absent sound of joyful laughter filled the tower as if it were attempting to fill a void of many weeks.

Chap. 7 - Darkness

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream Chapter 7
--Georg (Editing by AlicornPriest)

I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;
Morn came and went—and came, and brought no day,

Darkness by George Gordon Byron

“We are not sure of this.” Princess Luna sat solidly as an anvil on her balcony window, looking down into the torchlit gardens as the very first Gala invitees began to filter in. Somehow Pumpernickel had been dragged into acting as a combination romance councilor and last-minute beautician, winding up sitting beside her on the dark balcony looking much more like a sleep-deprived liquid than a solid. He was unable to keep from looking at the majestic gown Laminia had created for the Princess without becoming ever more worried. In retrospect it had become quite evident, to him at least, that a dress with ripples of color where it sensed movement was most probably not the best choice for a nervous princess. Although Luna appeared calm and very regal on the moonlit balcony, every little twitch and nervous quiver showed up through the night in glorious technicolor, like a battle of fireflies.

“Relax please, My Princess. You look fine, the Gala is going well, and I have made arrangements for an escort as you requested. Nothing can go wrong.”

Luna turned on him so quickly her entire neck lit up. “Don’t say that!” She turned back to her aerial view of the party and fussed. “I should just take one of the guards for an escort. Nopony could object to that.”

Pumpernickel cleared his throat. “The Day Guard has a long-standing rule against attending the Gala as guests ever since—”

“We can change that. We’re a Princess, aren’t we? Besides, I don’t have to restrict myself to one of Celestia’s guards. It would be perfectly acceptable to take one of our Night Guard as a companion for the evening.”

“Oh, no! We are not well-received even among the common Canterlot ponies! Can you imagine if one of us were down there? All dragon-eyed and bat-winged in the middle of Canterlot royals? There would be a stampede at the very least.”

“Things change. We do not see why the glory of our creation would be a reason why you—” Luna caught Pumpernickel’s terrified look out of the corner of her eye and changed subjects. “Who did you select to receive the honor of my company at the Gala tonight?”

Pumpernickel relaxed. “Oh, that was easy. I just looked for somepony with impeccable bloodlines who is a relative of some sort. That should keep all the Canterlot non-nobility from spending the night jumping to stupid conclusions about you selecting a mate. The gossip will be thick after the event, so I’ve been told so there is no reason to add to it unnecessarily. If you had made your plans known earlier, the list might have been a bit longer, but really there was only one stallion that stood out in my judgement as a proper companion. Prince Blueblood.”

The temperature on the balcony seemed to drop twenty degrees. “Prince Blueblood?”

“Oh yes. He’s Princess Celestia’s nephew, so that puts him off limits for you for the mating scene, which should make for much less gossip. He’s tall, he’s handsome, he has a magnificent mane and good teeth—”

“Prince Blueblood?” Frost began forming on the balcony rail as Pumpernickel suddenly realized that ‘Prince Blueblood’ was starting to sound a lot like ‘with bunnies’.

“Um. Is there something wrong with my selection, My Princess?” asked the guardpony, in what could only be called a majestic understatement of epic proportion.

In the middle of the Royal Garden, Fancy Pants looked up in the cloudless sky with a concerned expression. “That is most certainly strange. I did not think there was a storm scheduled for this evening, but that was most definitely lightning.”

“...and has the rutting instinct of a pack of crazed hyenas.” Pumpernickel had assumed what he had begun to think of as The Position when Luna had begun her epic rant. She was being amazingly well controlled, remarked one tiny portion of his mind that was not busy trying to figure out how best to melt into the stone and vanish. The Royal Canterlot Voice had not emerged even once, but instead she used a low steel-like tone that was a lot like being verbally flayed in a bath of salt. She had even avoided profanity except to describe the ancestors of Blueblood and to imply none too subtly that his family tree did not fork.

For safety’s sake, he waited a few minutes after the tirade had completed before peeking out from under his hooves. And then a few minutes more to ask the now-silent Princess, “Shall I go inform the Prince that his services are no longer required?”

“No.”

“No?” asked Pumpernickel with his leathery wings half-unfurled, his hopes for an escape dashed, while remaining unaware just how close he had come to dying when he uttered the word ‘services’ in combination with Blueblood.

Luna threw her ethereal mane back and struck a regal pose gazing off into the stars, with only a few nervous twitches visible in her gown as bursts of light. “We shall endure the worst of torture for Our Equestria, bear the greatest burden, et cetera, et cetera. A night with Blueblood in the Royal Gardens will show society that I have regained my composure, and that I am fully ready to step back into the....whatever.” The multitude of flashes from the dress showed just how badly the Princess was lying.

“Right.” Pumpernickel was noticing something else about the Princess also, and it just itched to be said, but having his hoof resoundingly slapped so many times in the day made him—

“What is it? You’ve got that look again, the one you normally get right before you say something stupid. Out with it.”

He swallowed, and managed to ask “Did yelling at me make you feel better about your...sister?”

“Yes. No.” Luna looked off at her stars. “Yes. Yes I think it did.”

“So...would it help if I said something stupid again so you could yell at me more?” Getting nothing but cold silence in return, he shuffled his hooves.

“I-I don’t understand. You are angry at your sister because she is not angry at you, and only wants to forgive you and...I’m saying something stupid again, aren’t I?”

The blinking Aurora Borealis that surrounded Luna had almost died out, leaving her perfectly camouflaged in silhouette against her stars. “No. You are right. Maybe if she would shout at me, or scream...but we did so much of that before Nightmare Moon drove us apart. I want her to....I don’t know. I bear the guilt of my actions, and have no desire to release it.” She made a movement to wave a darkened hoof across the city. “The voice in my dreams did little but bring to the surface that which already clawed at my soul. All my errors, all my sins. I was the one who let the Nightmare into my heart, I let her build the resentment and hate against my sister. And when the Elements tore her away, transforming her back into me...there was a tiny portion of me that missed it. If I let myself become close to my sister again, if I released my hold on my guilt, would I eventually turn on her again the same way?”

Pumpernickel shook his head. “My Princess, you have compared yourself with your sister for a very long time; with hatred and resentment that created Nightmare Moon, and now with guilt and regret that are creating...somepony else. The Queen of the Night that we have been told of in Tradition is perhaps as much a myth as the image that Princess Celestia wishes you to fit into. You should not be concerned you do not fit into an existing mold any more, but should go forth and create your own self. Luna.”

“How can I do that when everything I do here feels like my sister? It’s her castle, they’re her servants, they serve her favorite foods, and when they refer to me at all it is ‘The Princess...and her sister.’ Everywhere I go here, everything I do, it always feels like I’m going to step in a big steaming pile of Tia.”

Pumpernickel snorted despite himself. “Perhaps if you ran off with Prince Blueblood. Raised a few foals.”

He got a snicker in return, and several lights rippled across the horizon, showing where Luna was silhouetted on the balcony. “Oh, truly my sister despises him greatly, for his flaws are without number. It would certainly curtail her efforts to chase after me. But no, that is...excessive. Although perhaps a little peck on his cheek if she happens to pass by in the garden.” The Princess had a really nasty chuckle, thought Pumpernickel. And it was good that she stopped it before it became an evil laugh.

* * *

“There he is.” The handsome white unicorn stallion with the blonde mane stood at the end of what was called the “Cricket Path”, a short stretch of cobblestoned walkway that ended in a small romantic bench surrounded by flowers and normally a number of very vocal crickets. From the lack of noise, the crickets seemed to have taken the night off, and Pumpernickel suspected some of Luna’s Royal Cheating was involved. Fortunately Prince Blueblood did not seem to notice the two dark figures flying above him in small circles, but continued practicing his dazzling smile and deciding which hoof to rest on the bench to look his best to anypony coming down the path.

“Shh. He’ll hear you,” whispered Luna as she and Pumpernickel flew in tight formation in a silent spiral down towards the bench.

“I don’t understand why you don’t just land in the middle of the walkway there and walk up to him.”

“Style.”

“You mean you want to scare the bejeebers out of him, right? I wouldn't use that tongue thing on him. Ponies will hear the scream for miles.”

“Maybe.” Luna’s dress gave little flickers of light in the pitch darkness as the two of them circled one more time and landed silently in the stone overhang above the bench where the Royal Prince was waiting for the Princess. And as it turns out, he was not waiting alone.

“Shhh.”
“No, you shh.”
“I said shhh first!”
“You made more noise than I did.”

Blueblood looked back into the bushes behind the bench and whispered, “Will you two fillies shush. I mean, really. Could you be any more annoying? She’s going to be here soon.”

“Oh, but Blueblood,” said the first female voice in a dark and sultry tone. “We wanted you all to ourselves tonight. Now we have to share with her.” Pumpernickel tried not to twitch at the utter contempt put into that last word, and looked nervously at a patch of dress on Luna’s flank that started to flash in synchronization with her heartbeat.

“Oh, I heard she’s not even the Princess’ real sister,” whispered the soft and passionate voice of the other hidden mare. “Just some poor farm pony Celestia dresses up and prances around. You can tell by that frightened bunny rabbit look she gets when any real nobility is in the area.”

flash...flash...flash...

“Oh, I’ve heard she’s some sort of shape-changing pony who has the Princess in a mind-controlling spell, so she can steal her magic.”

flash.flash.flash.flash

“Oh, I know. She’s really a ghost that was killed by Nightmare Moon, and Celly is leaving around the castle so she can reminisce about her long-dead sister. I mean, you’ve never seen her eat, right and she’s always in the shadows? That’s why she brought the Elements of Harmony, so they can zap her and turn her into a real live pony.”

flashflashflashflash

“Oh ladies,” sighed Blueblood. “You are both so wrong.”

flash...flash...flash

“She really is Aunt Celly’s sister, but all that time in the moon drove her looney. She’s just a vegetable waiting for some dip. I’ll take her for a stroll through the garden, walk past a few of the nobles so they can see how she isn’t drooling, keep her from eating the flowers off old wrinkled grey mares’ hats, and turn her back over to her keepers so they can feed her and put her to bed. And then I’ll be back for you two lovely— What was that noise? Was it a bat? I hate bats, they get in my mane! Shoo! Shoo!”

The blinking patch of darkness that betrayed Luna’s location had vanished from Pumpernickel’s sight, but he caught a glimpse of it shooting straight up, and a drop of salty water fell in his face as he watched. Darn, he thought. And she was doing so well.

A sudden demonic urge came over him and he gave a grim smile of revenge in the darkness. He never would have done this a week ago, and if he thought about it any longer he probably was not going to do it now. Heck, he never would have done this as a mischievous colt either, but after this week he was probably going to wind up counting penguins anyway, so what the hay. He gripped the upper part of the flower trellis with his rear hooves and leaned out while extending his wings, winding upside down to Prince Blueblood with his mouth not more than a foot from the Prince’s face.

“Good Evening,” said Pumpernickel in a low voice, making sure to show his shiny razor-sharp teeth. Ah, this was the best part of the program. A Short Vocal Symphony for Three Voices, entitled ‘Startled Scream of Terror’, starring Prince Blueblood and an anonymous two mare duet. The mares bolted off into the distance without regard to openings in the hedges (of which there were now a few more) while Blueblood remained frozen in terror and hardly breathing. The dark winged monstrosity hanging upside down in front of him looked at him with glowing golden eyes and gave a toothy smile.

“Princess Luna regrets to inform you that she will be unable to attend the Gala due to official duties. Thank you, Prince Blueblood, for your care and attention to the Royal House.” He pushed off with his hind hooves for a half-flip, and flapped up into the night air, deeply appreciative of being able to still fly while trying so hard not to laugh, and grateful that he did not finish off the prank with a face-plant right in the middle of the garden walkway.

* * *

“Please, Princess Luna. It was only Blueblood. You said even your sister finds him contemptible.” Pumpernickel found himself in the uncomfortable position of standing in the Princess’s darkened bedchamber, talking to a semi-mobile lump of coverings in the Royal Bed, not sure if he was talking to the front or the back end of the Princess.

“Your Highness, a number of the high society ponies go for a walk out into the gardens during the event to get a bit of air during the Gala. Perhaps you could just stand near the ballroom door and greet them as they pass.”

“There will be Guards there, correct?”

“Well, of course. It is a security checkpoint so there is always a Guard at the—”

“No!”

“But you’re all dressed up already! How about just standing somewhere else and nodding mysteriously at guests as they pass, you wouldn’t even have to—” A whole galaxy of stars seemed to strike Pumpernickel in the face, knocking him back on his hooves as the fluorescing dress fell to the floor in a cascade of Aurora Borealis. “Ow.”

“Do you still want me to come out of this bed and go to the Gala?” Pumpernickel took a panicked look at the accoutrement rack where her tunic was displayed.

“Um. You’re not wearing—”

“Nothing! I’m stark naked! Not even....oh wait. There were five jingling noises as shoes and a tiara came popping out from under the covers and landed on the floor. “Ok, now I’m naked. You still want me out there?”

There was a very long pause before Pumpernickel dared to make a sound. “Let me just hang these clothes back up so they don’t get wrinkled. And put your accoutrements away. And... I’m sorry, Princess, for trying to force you to go back to the Gala.”

There was a snuffling noise from under the covers. “You have our forgiveness for your impertinent acts. We understand you only wish our best.” She remained quiet for a while, and Pumpernickel was just about to try slipping back out to the balcony when she suddenly asked, “What happened to Blueblood? I heard a scream as I was leaving. Several of them in fact.”

He sighed and related the story to the delight of Princess Luna, who could not quit giggling. “You should have licked his ear.”

“Oh! By the stars, no! What if he liked it?”

Even more giggles and snorts emerged from under the covers. “We are a bad influence on you, are we not?”

He sighed. “We live to serve you, Your Highness.”

The giggling stopped abruptly. “Yes, and that is the problem.” Luna peeked out from under the covers, her turquoise eyes shimmering in the moonlight that shone through the open balcony.

“Every time I look at your kind, I remember what Nightmare Moon did to me. What she did to everypony, and it makes me feel guilty, and angry at Tia, and the whole cycle starts over again. I feel as if I just need to go...somewhere, I don’t know where. Somewhere I can be...myself for a few days. And I don’t want anypony from Canterlot going with me.”

“If it would assist with your recovery, Your Highness, I’m certain the Day Guard would be willing to take over your protection detail instead. I could understand why you would not want any of the Night Pegasi to remind you—”

“No!” The Princess of the Night’s eyes flashed and her brows narrowed. “You and your families are my creations, and I will not have you hidden away from the world as some defective clay pot. Nightmare Moon may have given me the power, but the desire and the idea were mine and mine alone. You and your kin have served the Royal Throne loyally for generations despite the conditions of your creation. To cast you aside simply because of my frailty is...not worthy of us. I am as proud of who you are as I am ashamed of what I attempted to make of you. You should be proud, even if all in the city despise you.”

“Well, not everypony,” he mumbled with a smile, casting a thoughtful glance out the open window.

tap - tap - tap - tap - tap Pumpernickel’s eyes tracked back to where the Princess was holding him in her baleful gaze while tapping one hoof on the bedroom floor. “What was that, my trusted and loyal Royal Guard?”

“Oh. Um. Well.” He blushed furiously and tried unsuccessfully to look away from Luna. “It’s not really despise, more like...politely tolerate. Plus some of the older guards have been telling me stories. Um. Probably not safe for Princess’ ears.”

tap - tap - tap - tap “Continue.”

“Well. They say. Um. There are some ponies who like...to date...” He swallowed nervously. “Bad ponies.”

A faint electric charge seemed to build in the room as Luna continued to stare. “They think my creations are...bad?”

“Naughty? Exotic? Some mares really do like the...wings. And the eyes. Some of them are just weird, but some are...nice.” Pumpernickel tore his gaze away before he blushed himself to death, only to hear the Princess snicker.

“Oh! Oh my. That’s not...quite what I had in mind.” The Princess covered her mouth with one hoof to hide her smile. “I had no intention of creating a...Royal Bordello. But it explains why my creations are still around after a thousand years. How— I mean...How many are left?”

“Families? A few dozen in Canterlot, plus some in most of the larger cities, mostly working with the various city guards for night patrol. A few hundred across Equestria.”

“I shall have to look them up when I leave.” Luna looked out the open window where the sounds of the Gala filtered in. “Not now. We do not wish to disturb our sister with my departure in this hour of her revelry. But soon.”

Luna sighed and retreated under the covers again. “Oh well. Pumpernickel, come here. Right there. There. No, there! And give me your hoof.” The Princess of the Night wrapped herself around his hoof and curled up. “Ahh, that is much better.”

“You know, if you like that hoof so much, I could have my mother make you a stuffed one. Please?”

“Nope.” She snuggled down in her bed, his hoof firmly held. “We can think of no more ghastly thought than to awaken to find myself clinging to some disembodied limb.”

“How about a...stuffed animal of some sort? She makes one for every new Night Pegasus that is adopted in this city.”

“So what did you have?”

“Um. Well. Um. I’d rather not say.”

“What if I order you to?” Luna’s voice was soft and sleepy.

“Please don’t.”

“But I want to know. I promise I won’t tell.”

“....”

“What?” Luna’s eyes snapped opened and she looked at Pumpernickel, who had slumped down to the floor into The Position. “You had a doll of my sister? You slept with Celestia? Oh, this is....” The Royal Princess giggled and almost let go of Pumpernickel’s hoof. “This is just so...Oooo, and I promised I wouldn’t tell. Can I tell just one pony?”

“No.”

“Just one? Please?”

“No!”

“Do you still sleep with her?”

“No!!”

The Princess settled back down into bed with her unwilling captive limb, little bursts of giggles breaking out sporadically. Just before she began snoring, she murmured, “You know, this makes you the first pony in over a thousand years to sleep with both Royal Princesses.” And then she giggled right into a snore, not even waking when the cry of “YOU’RE GOING TO LOVE ME” echoed through the Royal Gardens, indicating the premature end of the Gala for this year.

* * *

The night seemed filled with feathers, all hues and colors, large and small that floated by Pumpernickel’s face. One landed on the nape of his neck, tickling and tickling until he rolled over and looked up into the face of Princess Luna. To his credit, and also probably crediting a significant lack of adrenaline, he did little more than look up blearily and ask, “Now what. I mean now what, My Princess?”

“I’m leaving now.”

“Wha?” Pumpernickel stumbled to his hooves and looked out the window. From the angle of the moon, it was only an hour or so before dawn, and the sounds of activity out in the garden had all but ceased. The Princess was standing by the balcony fully dressed in her full Royal Accoutrements, which suspiciously bulged in front as if quite a number of bits were stuffed in the tunic.

“I don’t suppose I can talk you out of this? I mean, it was my idea at one time, that must mean something horrible will happen.” A sliver of self-preservation from his Guard training kicked in suddenly. “You are taking a bodyguard, correct?”

The Princess nodded. “I have made arrangements with a veteran Royal Courier. We are to meet at the Southside Road in a few minutes, and I will be traveling in disguise.” Her horn glowed, and her appearance slowly changed to match Pumpernickel. It felt itchy and strange to be looking at himself without a mirror.

“Will you be able to sleep... I mean I could go get you my Celestia doll if that would....no, you’re trying to get away from her.” He looked at the floor of the bedchambers in resignation. “How long do I wait before telling Princess Celestia?”

“Give us an hour. We will send word to my sister as we travel so that we do not unduly raise her concerns over our well-being.” She paused to look out the window at the long shadows created by the waning moon and continued more slowly. “We do not know how long it will take until we are ready to accept our sister’s forgiveness. We have not yet left, and already...I miss her. “

Pumpernickel promptly filed that under ‘Weird things mares do - Missing somebody before they even leave. Subcategory: Royalty’ He straightened, and bowed formally to Princess Luna.

“Fly well, My Princess. And return soon.”

Luna nodded in return, which still felt a little weird for Pumpernickel to see himself in this way. “I shall. Oh, and one thing.” The disguised Luna gave him a predatory grin. “Don’t tell Tia about the doll. I want to see her face when I tell her myself, and someday you’ll give us permission.” She gave a youthful giggle as she flung herself out the balcony, swooping down into the deserted gardens before rising up into the night sky on strong wings.

“Goodbye, My Princess. Hurry back.” He turned to the bedroom, and began to tidy up. It was at least something to do until he had the most difficult task of his short and soon to be ended career: informing Princess Celestia of her sister’s departure an hour after the fact.

“And no way am I ever going to let you tell anypony that I used to sleep with a Celestia doll. Ever!”

Out in the corridor, Princess Celestia smiled and nodded, then returned to her own bedchambers to await the dawn.

To be Concluded: Epilogue: Luna’s Children

Chap. 8 - Epilogue Luna's Children

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream Epilogue
--Georg (Editing by AlicornPriest)

O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
"A Dream Within A Dream" by Edgar Allan Poe

Dawn after the Grand Galloping Gala was supposed to be a time of peaceful contemplation, where the movers and shakers of Equestrian society considered their place in the upcoming year and the endless cycle of seasons. Mostly they just slept in, except those who were tiphooving out of strange bedrooms and going home.

The castle of Canterlot was no exception; the servants had all been given time off since they had mostly been up all night either cleaning up or engaged in wayward creature collecting, Princess Luna had been seen going into her bedroom just after dawn, and Princess Celestia made no secret of the fact that once the sun was properly up, she was going to sleep until noon and anypony who woke her up early would find themselves counting penguins for the rest of their lives. Just to be careful, and in the rare event he were to wake before noon, Prince Blueblood’s guards ‘accidentally’ lost the keys to his door. And wedged it shut.

And so in the hour after sunrise, the castle was a very quiet place indeed.

Too quiet.

In the Royal Tower, on the floor below the Royal Bedchambers, it was even quieter. And in the silence, the door to the stairwell silently opened, and Princess Celestia delicately stepped into the corridor, her hoofsteps silenced by a double-pair of white socks. A shadow moving down the hallway would have made more noise, and certainly would not have accumulated the number of bat-winged shadowy guardians that whispered silently along in her wake. She glided up to what appeared to be just another door in the Royal Storerooms and stopped to listen to the words that trickled out into the corridor interspaced with sobs.

“....was wrong...” “....needs you...” “.....home....again...” “...Please...” “...not queen...”

With a click that sounded like an explosion in the silent corridors, the door to the store room swung open.

“Hello, Laminia.”

The Night Pegasus huddled miserably on top of a crate twitched at the mention of her name but did not respond to the Princess.

“My sister is not in the bedroom above you this morning. One of our servants with an illusion spell has taken her place. Your words...fall upon deaf ears.”

Laminia flinched as if she had been stabbed. “You...knew?”

“Not until just now. I had hoped that you would trust me. Why did you not tell me?” Celestia’s eyes lowered with disappointment, every hour of sleeplessness she had suffered in the past month plainly written on her immortal face.

The bedraggled Night Pegasus drew herself up on her hooves, and crawled down to the floor from her crate. “I...wanted to. When I saw how much pain she was in after the fitting room, and at the Gala. I...never meant to hurt her!”

Fire seemed to fill the Night Pegasus mare as she straightened up and looked away to a vision only she could see. “I was raised all my life on the stories of the Tradition, about our Immortal Queen of the Night, who would one day return in glory and power to create a perfect world. A fable. A tale told to foals. A glorious dream every night, a defense against the hatred and bigotry of Canterlot ponies who despise us, even though none remember what our kind did to them! And then one glorious day, she returned!”

The mare crumpled onto the cold storeroom floor and her voice fell to a whisper. “She returned. As a powerless child, frightened of every shadow. A foal who made a mockery of every Tradition we held.”

“We must give her time to heal. She is my sister, and I love her very much. I will always be there for her.”

“Can’t you see!” As the Night Pegasus mare leapt to her hooves and advanced on Princess Celestia, the Night Guard came closer to protect their Princess. “She can’t accept you! You’re so perfect, it makes her feel so flawed! I know how she feels!” Laminia screamed as she walked, ending up within touching distance of Princess Celestia. “Why can’t you JUST...BE...ANGRY...AT HER!” Tears of despair streaming from the Night Pegasus mare blinded her as Celestia motioned to the Night Guard to stay back. “TELL ME!”

The Princess lowered her head, and Laminia was shocked as a tear from the Princess dropped to the floor to merge with hers. “I was angry with her, far more angry than you will ever know. For a time. But I realized that if I were to carry that anger with me, it would stain my soul with hatred and that would spill over to her children. To you.”

Princess Celestia looked up into the angry golden eyes of the Night Pegasus mare. “I...feared she was gone forever, but I always held out hope that someday, somehow, I would have my sister back. And when I did, I must have no regrets, no anger. I must be able to let her back into my heart, because she has always been a part of me, as I am a part of her. Without her I am...so alone.” The Princess sat down on the storeroom floor and lowered her head.

Something inside the Night Pegasus mare broke, and she collapsed weeping in front of Celestia, her head flat against the cold stone floor. “Forgive me, My Princess. I have no excuse for my actions, and I accept whatever punishment you shall impose.”

Laminia flinched as a shadow passed over her, and then a great warm white wing encircled her and wiped away her tears. “You are forgiven. I could never be angry at one of my sister’s children.”

Beneath Celestia’s wing, the Night Pegasus mare trembled. “I cannot truly be one of her children. Although I bear the touch of your sister, I am...not.” Slowly she unfurled her leathery wings from under her white blanket of feathers and Princess Celestia sighed.

“Child. Is this what caused you to act as you did? Have you never...” One white sock-clad hoof traced the extended dark wing. From the wing joint to the elbow it was thick and leathery like the rest of the Night Pegasi, but from there it was twisted and abnormal, half-feathered and obviously unable to bear her weight, deformed before birth. “The spell my sister used to create your kind was not perfect; no spell ever has been. Is there no reference in your Tradition to the fact that my sister and I are equals in our power?” Celestia lowered her horn to the outstretched wing and a white light enveloped it. One at a time, the feathers vanished, and in moments, the wing was whole and undamaged. Laminia flexed it briefly and gave it a trial shake, the unflawed membrane shimmering in the darkness. “It..does not hurt any more? My Princess, I....”

“Hush. You may express your gratitude when Luna returns from her...trip. Your punishment shall be to explain to her exactly what it is you have confessed to me. I shall also encourage my sister to place you somewhere you can be carefully observed, someplace close at hoof. She has been in need of a personal servant for some time. Perhaps she will accept you in that position, once she has accepted the fact that your kind …”

In the distance, she could hear voices.

“...kind are abominations, should be put to...”
“...just dump it in the woods...”
“...how could anybody do this to little....”
“...put down the spear. I’m not killing children...”
“...you ask her...”

“Your Highness? Princess?”

Celestia turned her tear-streaked eyes from the Elements of Harmony, now just simple stones scattered around the ruined Hall of the Royal Pony Sisters. It had been only an hour since she had used them to defeat Nightmare Moon and seal her away forever on the moon, but it felt like a thousand years had marched across her soul. The long-delayed morning sun felt as hot as fire on her shoulders, and illuminated the feathers of the hovering Royal Guard with a glow that failed to hide her worried expression.

“What is it?”

The pegasus guard nervously landed and bowed. “My Princess. The rebels. We’ve...captured several of them.”

The Princess looked up with alarm and glanced about the battlefield. Death and destruction surrounded her. Most of Luna’s supporters had died so horribly not even parts of their bodies were visible, only twisted black bones and shattered hooves scattered among the fallen stones. “How...could anypony have survived? My sister drew upon their life forces when fighting the Elements. She...I killed them all.”

“Not all of them.” A large cloud with several score of twisted pegasus fillies and colts was being pushed down to the ruins by two rather nauseated-looking pegasi guards. “We caught one of their kind trying to get away with the...creatures.” She watched in secret horror as one of the tiny twisted pony-like creatures walked to the edge of the cloud and hissed at her, glaring with squinting golden eyes. “The creature pushing the cloud fought and died bravely. Half of its body must have been caught in that last spell Nightmare Moon cast. It was dying already, I think.”

“What have you done with my brother! He was trying to save us!” One of the bat-winged creatures leapt off the cloud at Princess Celestia, its tiny wings fluttering ineffectually as it plunged to the ground. She levitated it quickly before it splattered on the stones and held it.

“Your brother is...gone. I’m...sorry.”

The tiny fanged face screwed up in a horrible grimace, then burst into heart-rending tears. “He’s...all I had left. Mother and dad are gone too!”

Princess Celestia brought the little creature to her and cradled him close. “I understand.”

She sternly looked at the guardpony while holding the child under one wing. “You are to take the children back to Canterlot. They are Luna’s last surviving children, and we will not see the last vestige of my sister go uncared for. You will find good homes for them, and they will be raised by loving parents, and they will *all* be able to join the guard when they are old enough. This I do swear.”

Doubts still clung to the guard’s face, but she properly bowed to Princess Celestia and turned to give orders to her troops.

“Tell me, little one. What is thy name? And the name of thy brother who gave his life to save you?”

The big golden eyes of the creature...no, Luna’s child, blinked in the bright sun and looked up at her. “I’m Rye, and my brother was Pumpernickel.”

“Princess? Princess, wake up?” Celestia opened her eyes to meet the same golden gaze of the dozens of concerned Night Guard who had followed her to the tower room. They all looked so young and frightened to her immortal sight, that it seemed the cloud of foals so long ago had merely shifted forward in time a thousand years.

She chuckled, “My apologies, my little ponies. I was lost in thought, and I need to sleep.”

Princess Celestia started to get up, then changed her mind and sat back down again, wrapping her wing around the shivering Night Pegasus mare. “First allow me to tell you about your ancestors, and about the night you were created.”

(ties in with Two Unicorns Walk Into a Village )