The Rising Night

by Sixes_And_Sevens

Rating: teen
Tags: Derpy Hooves, Violence, Princess Celestia, Crossover, Death, Alternate Universe, Doctor Whooves, Doctor Who, Princess Luna, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Dinky Hooves, Adventure, Sex, Science Fiction
Length: 17383

A long time ago, before Equestria was made, there was a village. There was a war. There were two sisters. There was a mad professor in a blue box. And there was the darkness that sought to swallow them all whole.

Part of the Wibblyverse Continuity.
Part three of Doctor Whooves: Friendship is Wibbly Series 1
Previous Story: Closer to the Void
Next Story: Black and Blue and Bloodied

A long time ago, in a land far away, two sisters lived in exile. Hunted by the unicorns, banished by the pegasi, they lived in a wood only by the grudging generosity of the earth ponies.
Some time ago, in a land not too far from here, a strange little pegasus appeared from the aether, seemingly bringing trouble in their wake.
Not too long ago in the grand scheme of things, in a land much too close for comfort, night fell in the village in the woods and swallowed it up whole. It fell to the two most powerful mares in the realm to defeat the great evil, but after they had been wronged so many times themselves, would they lift a hoof to help?
A long time ago. Far, far away. Never particularly convincing lies when time travel enters the equation.

Sex tag for innuendo. Also some brief homophobia from a real jerkass character
Violence tag for mob rule, death tag for the cause of that mob rule, gore tag for the natural conclusion of both those things.

Published 2018-11-08 15:10:01 UTC
Last updated 2018-12-05 17:07:28 UTC

Set of Sun

Canterlot, Fall of 4 BAT: The Night Court of Equestria was well underway. A solemn affair it was, led by a detached but benevolent Princess Luna, Sovereign of Stars, Mistress of the Moon, Lady of the Night, Younger of the Diarchy, etc., etc., who really was getting rather bored with the whole thing. She maintained an attentive facade for the blathering politician- blast, what was his name? Oh yes— Baron Green Light, who was currently outlining the fifth point of eight in his new tax cut for a certain bracket of the populace. A bracket into which, Luna was quite sure, he only just happened to comfortably fit. Yet, though she registered the words, her mind was concerned with quite a different and considerably more vital affair. To be absolutely precise, it was concerned with using her magic to quietly slip food off of the cheeseboard and over to her beloved pet opossum, Tibbers.

Her ears pricked up suddenly. Out in the corridor, there echoed a faint bumping and crashing, as though an intruder were attempting to escape the guard. That would be interesting, Luna thought. Perhaps she would finally have an excuse to use the baseball bat she kept stowed under her throne for use in emergencies. She hadn’t wielded it in battle since… well. Since before she had become a princess.

She left that particular train of thought as the noises grew louder. Hooves skittered along the hall. The ears of many bored courtiers perked up, desperate for any sort of distraction. Luna’s gaze fell on the door. The excited scuffling grew louder and louder. The door flew open, and Princess Celestia, Her Serene Majesty, High Solar, Elder of the Diarchy, etc.etc. danced in, her mane flying and her regalia disheveled. “Sister!” she cried, eyes shining with excitement. “They’re back! The Doctor has returned!”

Luna stood stock still, jaw dropped wide. Then she broke into a wide grin. “HUZZAH!” she roared, deafening those closest to her.

The assembled courtiers that evening had the rare privilege of seeing their rulers do a happy dance, all the while squealing like schoolfillies. Catching herself, Luna attempted to regain some degree of composure. “Night Court is suspended on this eve, due to a national emergency which our sister and ourself must investigate personally,” she declared. “Until our return, please take up any business you may have with either Kibitz or Raven.”

“Um, pardon me, your highness,” murmured a royal guard at Luna’s side, “but the guards have received no report of anything like a national emergency. On what grounds are you so sure that anything of such magnitude will occur?”

The princess merely shrugged. “We’re going to Ponyville. It really is only a matter of time.”

Then, giggling freely, she vanished into thin air, followed by her elder sister.

“Point Six,” Green Light droned, “The economy will be vitalized synchronously through the harmonic resonance of concentrated money…”

***

The princesses strolled down Ponyville’s main boulevard. They received a few stares, but most of these came from out-of-towners who weren’t yet used to Ponyville’s unusual relationship with reality. “I wonder what they’ll be like this time,” Celestia said. “I don’t know if I told you, but I met a new incarnation while you were… away.”

“Yes,” Luna agreed dryly. “While I was in a centuries-long time-out. As I have told you a thousand times, sister, I have forgiven you as you have forgiven me!” She sighed. “Which number, then?”

Celestia frowned. “They were oddly evasive about that. I think they were the ninth, but there was a strong possibility it was… later on.”

Luna snorted. “Still ever the enigma?”

“Yes, I suppose so. Less the cold chessmaster than was ours, though. They seemed rather tired, really. Said something about a war. And…”

“And?”

“How Gallifrey fell.”

Luna was silent. “By ‘fell’, you mean…”

“Gone. Vanished. Dead.”

“...Poor Doctor.”

“Mm. They were in a bad way when they first got here, not long after the Grand Galloping Gala fiasco.”

“Hah! Now We wish even more that We had witnessed that rare event!”

Celestia nodded, but her smile dropped. “Yes… they seemed lost. If I’d let them continue on in such a way, they would have driven themself mad.”

Luna glanced over, interest piqued. “And?”

The merest hint of a smirk graced Celestia’s elegant features. “Well… I gave them a companion.”

“Oh, go on, don’t keep me in suspense.”

Celestia’s smirk bloomed into a full lunatic grin. “None other than our dear nephew, Blueblood.”

Luna’s eyes bulged. “That pompous brat? We have heard many a tale of his misadventures, aye, and many a mare scorned as well! Did he not shun honest Applejack? Did he not crush graceful Rarity?”

She seemed ready to go into a full-blown rant, but Celestia cut her off. “Exactly why I chose him. He needed a firm hoof. The Doctor needed someone both to care for and to argue with. It was a perfect match, and Blueblood has turned out better than even I had expected.”

“...Celly. I think you scare me slightly.”

The elder alicorn stuck out her tongue, smiling. “As well I should, Lulu.”

***

The duo eventually arrived at a cottage. Luna looked at her sister doubtfully. “Are you certain that this is the right address? It seems rather… small.”

Celestia hesitated. At that moment, however, the door flew open, and a grinning dun stallion came bouncing out. “Celly! Lulu! Brilliant to see you again!”

“Hello, Professor,” Celestia smiled.

Luna said nothing, choosing instead to throw herself at the Doctor, wrapping the Time Lord in a tight hug. “Cru— cru— crush— ing—” the Doctor gasped.

“Oops,”

Breathing deeply, the Doctor managed a smile. “Won’t you come in? Have some coffee?”

“That sounds lovely, old friend,” Celestia said.

And the two most powerful beings in the world walked into the little cottage. They left their crowns and regalia at the door, for they were here not as princesses, not as rulers, but as friends. And a pair of goddesses sat down with the Doctor and his family for teatime.

***

Ditzy was not easily nonplussed. Living in Ponyville, one had to more or less accept the occasional oddity. Things like rains of frogs, rampaging monsters, and suspension of the laws of physics were par for the course, and even Discord, ancient spirit of chaos and disharmony, destroyer of harmony, ender of worlds, had been relegated to the role of a harmless old prankster. But this was different. This was Royalty. In her home. Which, she realized, with a sick plummeting in her stomach, she hadn’t even cleaned since the last time the Crusaders had visited.

“Ditzy?”

She snapped out of her reverie. Everyone was looking at her with expectation. “Would you pass the sugar?” Celestia repeated.

“Oh! Um, yes, of course, your highness.” She grasped at the sugar bowl, upsetting the cream. Fumbling, she dropped the sugar bowl into the strawberry jam. Her face was as red and burning as a sunset. Hesitantly, she picked up the remains of the spilled sweetener. “One lump or two?” she squeaked.

Celestia merely smiled. “Five, at least, please. Here, let me help tidy—”

“Oh, no! I couldn’t possibly ask you to do that!”

But a warm, golden aura was already levitating the settings back to their proper place. Luna leaned over. “Thou may relax, Miss Doo. We are here as your guests, not as your princesses. As the moderns say, ‘Chill’.”

“It’s Dr. Doo,” Ditzy corrected automatically, before she realized what she was saying. She gasped and stuffed a hoof in her mouth.

“Apologies.” Luna smiled kindly at the pegasus before straightening back up in her seat. “It really has been too long, Doctor.”

“Well. I suppose it has been, yes,” he agreed through a mouth full of jammy dodger. “When was it from your perspective? Cos’, last I remember seeing you was that business with the— no, hang about, that’s not happened yet.”

“It was, I believe, not long before the fall of the Crystal Empire— immediately before, that is,” Luna mused. “Yes, you and that masked unicorn— you wouldn’t tell me her name—”

“No, sorry, that’s not happened yet from my perspective.” He took another jammy dodger. “Best to avoid that sort of foreknowledge, I’m afraid.”

“Mm,” Luna acquiesced with a nod. “I remember you used to tell us that all the time when we travelled with you.”

“Oh yes,” Celestia laughed. “‘Don’t wander off, girls.’ ‘Don’t cause a paradox, Luna.’ ‘Celestia, I know exactly what is going on, but I can’t tell you, so be a dear and blow up that planet.’”

The Doctor had the good grace to blush. “I was a different pony in those days,” he protested, half joking.

“When DID you travel with the princesses, Doctor?” Dinky asked.

“Wwweeellll…” The Doctor puffed up, rubbing a hoof against his cheek, “they weren’t princesses just yet. Not exactly. They were still quite young… and they lived in a very different world…”

Celestia looked at him. “Oh go on and tell the story,” she said, smiling. “We all know that you want to.”

The Doctor grinned. “Well, if you insist…”

Night and Day

An Earth Pony Village, Fall, Pre-Unification: The two young mares were like shadows— largely ignored by the townsfolk, if not actively shunned. The reason for this was as plain as the wings on their backs or the horns on their heads. They had been thrown out of the pegasus empire, and they were still under threat of death by the unicorns. The earth ponies had been the only ones even to tolerate their presence, and some didn’t even do that. However, Chancellor Puddinghead was among the few who actually seemed to like the two sisters, and so any dissenting voices were soon dismissed.

Nevertheless, the sisters’ presence was only barely tolerated by the majority of the town. It was only because of their incredible strength and usefulness to the ponies that they hadn’t been run out of town long ago. Their interactions with the townsponies were kept to a minimum. Unfortunately, some days, it couldn’t be avoided. “Get ye hence, Luna,” Celestia sighed. “The sooner we get our rations, the sooner we can be gone.”

Luna merely nodded. “Aye, sister,” she agreed, distracted. Following her line of sight, Celestia scowled.

Luna's attention was on the flank of a gorgeous orange mare who was trotting down the road ahead. Celestia's attention was drawn elsewhere. There was a pair of stallions, one tall and brown, the other stout and green, standing over by the council building, deep in a heated discussion. She reached out a tendril of magic and yanked her sister’s mane. “OW!” Luna yelped.

“Come along with ye,” Celestia grumbled, walking away from the accusing glare of the tall brown stallion, whose attention they had drawn.

***

Councillor Barley Corn watched the two mares go. “Shameless,” he growled. “Walkin’ aroun’ like that in front of decent folk.”

“Thou would prefer they flew, perhaps?” his companion suggested mildly. “Or mayhap teleported?”

Barley gave his shorter companion a long, hard stare. “Dost thou mock me, Cookie?”

The green pony met his gaze without so much as blinking. “I only think,” he began.

“I don’ care what ye think, Smart Cookie,” Barley snapped. “Thou may have th’ ear of th' Chancellor— for now, tha’ is— but soon ye’ll all see that yon two mares are naught but trouble!”

He stormed off, leaving Smart Cookie in a state of astonishment. Eventually, the councillor shook himself from his stupor. “Anger. That is naught but trouble,” he murmured.

He felt a tingling on the back of his neck. ‘Hm?” He turned to look at the forest behind him, but there was nopony there. And yet, he felt as though he was being watched… “Foolishness,” he muttered, but hurried along, nonetheless.

***

Inside the granary, ponies milled about, discussing the state of the harvest, the weather, and other topics of the day. Two, however, stood apart from the crowd-- not aloof, exactly, but apart, nonetheless. Celestia strode along, prideful and cold as winter, Luna scurrying to keep up with her sister’s lengthy steps. The crowd seemed, unconsciously, to part before them. It was not a mark of respect, but of fear. Celestia knew this well. Luna knew, too, but she preferred to pretend otherwise. Only when they had reached the table at the front of the room did they receive a genuine smile. “Ah, the babes in the woods return to us once more! Good day to ye!” Chancellor Puddinghead roared, a broad grin spread across his lined and ruddy face.

“Good morrow, Chancellor,” Celestia replied with a faint smile of her own.

“Good morrow, Mr. Puddinghead,” Luna singsonged, smiling fit to match the elder stallion in brightness.

“Ah, an’ a luvverly mornin’ it are,” the maroon pony agreed. “Wha’ can Oi be doin’ fer ye lassies this day?”

“We have come for our rations, please,” Celestia said, smiling despite herself. The old stallion’s quirky behavior and sunny demeanor was irresistible. Sometimes, he seemed even more of a child than Luna.

“Two sets o’ weekly rations for two beauteous fillies,” he declared, leaping toward the containers of grain meal and vegetables. And as he picked up the various foodstuffs, he began to juggle them— first a bag of flour, then tomatoes, carrots, potatoes, and a watermelon, tossing them all through the air with seemingly no effort at all. “An’ there we are,” he declared, jubilantly tossing all the food into their basket, one by one, adding a couple of sugar cubes on top with a fond, grandfatherly wink.

“We thank thee, Chancellor,” Celestia said with a slight bow.

“Th’ pleasure were all me own,” the Chancellor said with a deeper, exaggerated bow in return.

As the two sisters turned to go, the Chancellor added, “Oh yes, and one other thing."

Celestia turned back to face him. The Chancellor's smile had fallen. "Can ye no’ try to be quieter in the nights? It be keepin’ up the townsfolk.”

Celestia frowned. “What noise would that be?” she asked in confusion.

An uncharacteristically stern look crossed the Chancellor’s face. “Nae, don’ go playin’ tha’ with Oi, young mare. Ye ken well what Oi be talking ‘boot.”

Celestia was still perplexed, but she nodded slowly. “We’ll do our best,” she promised.

Chancellor Puddinghead lit up once more. “Aye, an’ that be all Oi can ask o’ yiz,” he said with a grin. “Have ye a nice day, now!”

As the sisters left, however, he scowled thoughtfully after them. “Can they really know naught of the noises?” he murmured.

***

Once they had left the town safely behind them, Luna spoke up. “What dost thou think the Chancellor meant, Celly? About the noises at night, I mean?”

Celestia shook her head in bafflement. “I know not, Luna,” she said. “O’course, it may just be th’ Chancellor being— well, th’ Chancellor.”

Luna frowned. “But—”

“Aye, that must be it,” Celestia decided. “Just the Chancellor being foolish. Let’s talk no more about it, Lulu.”

Luna’s scowl deepened. She hated when Celestia did this sort of thing. “But, Celly,” she pleaded.

“No more, says I! And I be thy elder sister!”

“By mere minutes!”

“Stop arguing with me!”

“I will, once ye stop arguin’ with me!”

“Luna!”

“Celestia!”

“Ladies, ladies!” came an unfamiliar, chiding tone. A pair of sky-blue hooves gently pushed apart the battling siblings. A pair of piercing blue eyes stared into each of theirs in turn. “Let’s have none of that, please.”

Both sisters stared in abject horror at the interloper. He was short and squat. His coat was blue, his mane was so deep a shade as to be almost black (but a shade of what color?), and his eyes were metallic and icy. Most importantly, however, was the fact that he had a pair of wings on his back. The two sisters turned on a dime and took off, but a sharp clearing of the stallion’s throat brought them up short, as though running to the end of a tether. He walked slowly toward them, examining them minutely.

Then, unexpectedly, he smiled, his eyes softening. “Good afternoon,” he said, doffing his hat.

The dark blue alicorn hid under one of her elder sister's wings. The stallion merely smiled politely. “Hello, Lulu,” he said. “Hello, Celly,”

The young mare poked her head out and gave him a look. “How dost thou knoweth our names?” she demanded.

“Ah. Well, we’ve met before, you know. Although, I get the feeling you mayn’t rrremember that just yet…”

Celestia blinked. “What?” she asked, confused.

“...Never mind. That’s a conversation for a later date. Or," he looked up at the sky, scratching his chin meditatively. "Or perhaps earlier, now that I think of it.”

“Thou speaketh in riddles, good sir,” Celestia said, “And I believe thou hath th’ advantage of us.”

“Have I?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “I suppose I do. Call me the Doctor, then.”

“That is no sort of name!” Celestia argued.

“Professor, then,” the stranger replied.

“That’s no better,” Celestia retorted, but the stallion’s attention had already drifted.

He looked at Luna and tutted. “You really must practice better hygiene. One should always remember to wash behind the ears,”

As fast as lightning, he reached behind her left ear and produced a bouquet of flowers. Luna shrunk back, but hesitated when the strange pegasus held out the bouquet invitingly. Cautiously, she reached forward for a bite, but Celestia knocked the flowers away. “We take not food from strangers,” she said coldly.

The Doctor nodded amiably. “Very wise,” he said, though when he glanced down at the flowers for a brief moment, his forehead was lined and sad.

Luna frowned in consternation. “He ain't stranger than the Chancellor,” she reasoned, “An’ we take food from him all the time!”

Celestia took Luna firmly by the tail and dragged her onwards. The pegasus made no move to stop them, but watched them go with a thoughtful expression on his face.

***

“Why did we have to leave, Celly?” Luna whined. “He was nice!”

Celestia snorted. “Thou sayeth th’ same thing about many of the townsfolk. Just because thou think one attractive does not make them nice.”

Luna made a mildly disgusted face. “He’s not ‘an’some. He’s old! He reminded me o’ th’ Chancellor.”

Celestia rolled her eyes. “Because he tried to give you a treat? Really Luna, thou shouldst know better by now. Courting colts will bring naught but trouble.”

“I court not anypony!” Luna replied indignantly. “Tis just— he seemed— odd.”

“On that we can agree.”

They fell into an uncomfortable silence, Celestia worrying about what the strange pegasus might mean for them, and Luna worrying about her sister.

***

The Doctor stared after the two mares for some time after they had gone. “Interesting,” they murmured. “Yes, and very suggestive. Their presence here, I wonder if it's time…”

They trailed off awkwardly, as though expecting some other pony to chime in. When nopony did so, they deflated and sighed dejectedly. “Probably for the best, really,” they mused aloud. “Ace would have hated this place. Too much sunshine. Not enough explosions.”

A cold wind ruffled the back of their neck, and they frowned. “Well. Too much sunshine for now, at least.”

They headed back the way the alicorns had come from at a fast trot. Things were moving rather faster than they had anticipated…

Intermission 1

“Who’s Ace?” Dinky asked.

The Doctor, frowned, not pleased to be interrupted. “She was an old friend of mine. Left the TARDIS before Luna and Celestia came aboard. She probably would’ve gotten along with you and your friends quite well.” He gave Dinky a flat glare. “She shared your destructive streak as well.”

“Hey, the TARDIS is fine, now,” the filly protested.

Luna and Celestia exchanged astonished glances. “What did you do to it?” Celestia asked. “I mean, it carried around a pair of rebellious alicorns for several years, and we barely scratched it!”

The Doctor looked between the filly and the princesses. “Don’t any of you go getting any designs on my ship,” he warned.

The grins he received in response were not encouraging. “Lovely,” he grumbled. “I was just getting used to the new interior, too.”

Ditzy wrapped a wing around him. “More coffee?” she asked.

“Oh, yes, that sounds lovely!”

“Good. Go make us some, won’t you?”

He sputtered for a moment, then sighed. “Yes, dear. But just make sure they don’t start collaborating while I’m putting on the kettle.”

He left through the kitchen door, grumbling faintly about how his companions always ganged up on him. “Sarah-Jane and Rose, Martha and Donna, Tegan and Nyssa,” he muttered.

Celestia giggled. “You’ve got him wrapped right around your hoof,” she said admiringly. “I wouldn’t have thought that possible!”

Ditzy sighed. “...Yeah,” she said, looking somewhat forlorn.

Luna frowned. “What is the matter?” she asked. “Thou should be happy, should you not? Your love has been returned to you, and right where you want them, as well!”

Ditzy shook her head. “No, I’m happy he’s back. I’m just— upset that he blames himself so much.” Her brow furrowed, and quietly, she mouthed ‘they?’

“It was kinda his fault, though,” Dinky pointed out. “He should feel guilty, shouldn’t he?”

Ditzy frowned at her daughter sternly. “You heard him on the TARDIS yesterday. He wished he hadn’t come back so that we would be safe. He was willing to—” she cut herself off and glanced at the princesses. “Well. Never mind that now,” she said.

Luna leaned forward in her chair, her face drawn with sudden concern. “No, no, speak on,” she urged. “Tell us, so that we may help!”

Ditzy licked her lips nervously. “He— he said—” she stammered. She shied back from the stares of her rulers.

“Begin at the beginning,” Celestia suggested. “And take your time.”

Ditzy breathed out slowly. “We were in the TARDIS, with Twilight, Pinkie, Applejack, and Rainbow Dash. We were about to crash into a— well, basically, a black hole.”

Luna nodded. “As one does,” she said.

“Well, the Doctor thought that Dinky, Pinkie, Twilight and I had been sucked out into the time vortex, but we hadn’t really, of course. We were lost in the TARDIS and came across him sitting alone in a room, talking to himself.”

Celestia’s perfect brow creased. “Never a good sign,” she murmured.

“And then he said— he basically said he was willing to die to keep everypony safe,” Ditzy said quietly. “Ever since he’s been back, he’s seemed so sad. He blames himself for everything, and he tries to put on a mask, but—” she broke off, overcome.

Luna put a wing around Ditzy’s shoulders. “There, now,” she soothed. “Be at peace. The Doctor has always been somewhat— emotional.”

“Really?” Ditzy asked.

“Oh, me, yes,” Celestia said, rolling her eyes. “They’ve always been rather melodramatic about the safety of others. I remember when—” she caught herself. “Hang on, I don’t think that’s happened yet. Never mind.”

“The point is,” Luna explained, “you should never take the Doctor too seriously about these things, especially not, say, when they are bemoaning what a dreadful individual they are. The best thing you can do is to be there for them. That’s what they really need. They don’t do well on their own.”

Ditzy considered this, then nodded firmly. “Right,” she said. “I can do that.”

“Oh, and Ditzy?” Celestia added. “One other thing you should do, if they ever start saying things like that again.”

“Yes?”

“Slap them so hard their next regeneration will feel it.”

Ditzy giggled a little and straightened up in her chair. “I can definitely do that,” she said with a smile.

“What’s that?” the Doctor asked, trotting back into the room, a pot of coffee on his back.

“Nothing,” everypony said at once.

The Doctor glanced around, frowning. “...Right. On with the story!”

Author's Note

Because this is frankly too short to count as a chapter alone, I'm throwing in the next one early.

The Long Dark Twilight

The Doctor frowned as they entered the boundaries of the little township. Where was everypony? Were they already too late? No, there was a stallion over there. “Halloo!” they called, waving a hoof at the stranger.

The brown pony glanced over in surprise. When he registered the Doctor, his eyes narrowed. “What doth thou want? It’s not tax season.”

The Doctor smiled at him cheerfully. “No, I’m just here to take a census of the town. What’s your name, please?”

“Corn. Councillor Barley Corn.”

“Ah, local government.” The Doctor nodded. “Would you mind terribly taking me to your duly elected rrrepresentative, please?”

“Yes,” the stallion growled, then stalked away.

“Hm. What an odd fellow,” the Doctor murmured, watching the other trot along the path into the woods. Then, donning their hat, the Time Lord continued on their way.

***

Barley Corn stormed into the forest. Pegasi! Here, in the village! The gall of it was almost too great to be borne. That upper class twit, with his fancy language, looking down on him like that, oh to see that self-satisfied smirk wiped off his face…

Yes said a voice that seemed to come from all around him On that, we art in agreement.

Barley looked around. “Who goes there?” he demanded, seeing nopony.

I be the spirit of the forest whispered the voice. I have seen thy soul, pony, and have seen fit to give you aid in thy struggles.

Barley frowned. “What sort of help? Help with what?”

What thou most desire, Councillor. Power. Complete and total power.

The shadows seemed to swirl, and for but a moment, Barley could see himself in the robes of the Chancellor. He could see everypony who had ever wronged him bowing down to him. He saw walls with trophies of wings and horns mounted upon them, the last vestiges of the unicorns and pegasi. In one very special corner, he saw one plaque that had both wings and horns, one set white, the other midnight blue. He breathed out. “Tha’— that would be impossible,” he whispered.

There is no such thing as impossible, my dear Chancellor, the voice said. There is only weakness. We two are very strong, are we not? For us, there is nothing that cannot be done…

“Aye…” Barley muttered. “Strong…”

Let me help you, Barley. Let me help all of thy dreams come true…

Barley paused. “All of my dreams?” he asked, mildly worried.

The voice paused. Is there something wrong with that? There was a note of menace in it, suddenly.

“No, no. Nothing, really. It’s just, well, I’d rather the dream with the pig an’ the tub o’ jelly… ye ken.”

Ah. That can remain a dream, yes.

“Thankee, spirit,” the councillor said, relieved. “How wilt thou do it?”

I am not strong enough, it admitted. Not yet. I must have help from you before I do anything.

“What’s that, then?” the councillor asked, suspicious.

Oh, nothing much, it said. You need merely to send out, say a scouting party to this corner of the wood. I shall do the rest… Now go. Time is of the essence. Already, your enemies act against you.

“...Aye,” Barley Corn agreed, dazed. “Aye, they’ll no' catch me out so easily!”

No. Not without a pig and a tub of jelly, anyway, the voice muttered, so low the councilor couldn’t hear it.

***

The Doctor strode into the town hall. Almost instantly, all eyes fell on them. They stepped back slightly. They were rather used to this body going unnoticed by everyone that they met. This inversion felt rather unpleasant, particularly now that they lacked a rather volatile friend to watch their back. “Hello,” they said pleasantly. “My name is… Query. From the University of, ah, Stratus. I’m here to take a census. May I please speak to whomever is in charge here?”

The Doctor did their best to radiate innocence. Eventually, a maroon mare stepped forward. “Thou did miss him,” she said. “He’s gone back to his quarters.”

The Doctor sighed. “And where would I find those?”

The mare shrunk back, apparently having used up all her courage in one short speech. Eventually, a green stallion stepped forth. “I’ll take thee to him. Got to see him myself.”

“Thank you,” the Doctor said, “I’m terribly obliged.”

The ponies all went back to murmuring among themselves as they left, but in much more secretive and serious tones than before.

***

The Doctor and his guide walked along in silence for a time. Eventually, the green stallion spoke. “So,” he said, “What might yer name be, stranger?”

“Query will be sufficient,” the Doctor replied. “Prrrofessor will do fine as well. What’s your name?”

“Cookie. Smart Cookie,” the other said heavily, as though Smart Cookie wasn’t a very good thing to be.

Smart Cookie had continued on for a good few paces before he realized that the Doctor had stopped dead in his tracks. “Be ye alright there, sirrah?”

“Smart Cookie? THE Smart Cookie?” the Doctor asked, incredulous. “My dear chap, I’ve been a great admirer of yours for some time. That new justice system you proposed, simply brilliant!” They shook the surprised councilor firmly by the hoof.

“...Aye… Well, I wish that others shared thy views.”

The Doctor frowned. “Whatever do you mean?”

Cookie shrugged his broad shoulders. “What I say. Not everypony feels that I do my job well. They say I’m wasting my talents with yon book learning, that I should be trying to work out how to get us earth ponies equal rights— ah, no offense to yourself.”

“Oh, none taken,” the Doctor assured him. “Harmony among the tribes is a goal of mine as well.”

Cookie gave him a sidelong look. “Is that so?”

“Oh, yes. I foresee a day will come— not too long from now— where the tribes will unite against a common foe and rise up as one whole. I strongly suspect you will even be alive to see it!”

Cookie snorted and shook his head. “A pleasant dream, Professor Query,” he said, “But that’s all it be.”

The Doctor’s eyes twinkled slightly. “Time will tell…” they murmured, a smile on their face.

That smile quickly vanished when a cloud passed across the sun, darkening the village. “Tell me, how long until we reach the Chancellor’s quarters?” they asked, a note of urgency in their voice.

“It be yonder, perhaps three minutes more,” Cookie said, inclining his head toward a structure at the end of the road which, oddly enough, resembled a gingerbread house.

“Good, good. What say you and I hurry in? It looks to me as though night may be falling sooner than expected…”

***

Barley glared around the compound. “Right,” he barked. “There have been more than a few disturbances out in yon woods, as ye all ken well. Pease Porridge, Dowsin’ Stick, ye shall be searchin’ the forest tonight.”

This was immediately met with protest from the two ponies in question. “Ah, shut yer gobs, or I’ll make sure ye shall be on that duty fer the next fortnight,” he said. “Nex’ assignment’s harvesting the 'taties. Caber, ye be on duty for tha’, along wi’ Spade and Trowel, Gatherin’ Moss…”

“I can’t believe we’ll be outside all night!” grumbled Dowsing Stick to his partner. “Thou knoweth he’s only doin’ it because he don’t approve of us!”

Pease Porridge smiled slightly. “Look on the bright side,” he suggested. “We’ll be outside, all night… and all alone…”

Dowsing Stick brightened. “Well, we’ll be investigatin' the loud noises in the night anyways…” he grinned. He kissed his lover’s cheek gently, drawing a few smiles and winks from the surrounding ponies. “No’ a bad idea, luv.”

Barley glared at them. Look at them! Carrying on like that in here! There were foals present! The others were all so blind, thinking it didn't matter so long as they were happy and got their work done alright. But it did! It had to! They couldn't reproduce, couldn't create a new generation of laborers. The village would fall to ruin.

He would make sure that there would be no more of that sappy ‘luv’ nonsense when he was in charge! No, t’would be work, work, work all the time! It was the only reasonable plan.

Game Night

“Haloo!” the Doctor called as they and Councillor Cookie entered the Chancellor’s front hall. “Is anypony in?”

There was the sound of a loud thumping from the other room. Smart Cookie sighed and facehoofed. “Chancellor,” he said in a loud, patient voice, “You’ve a visitor!”

The old pony popped his head out through the doorway. He was covered with soot from head to hoof, but was grinning nonetheless. “Ah, Smart Cookie! Unknown pegasus! How good of ye to drop in!”

“Thou wast checking to see if the chimney was wide enough to fit down, were thou not,” the councillor asked flatly.

Chancellor Puddinghead looked shifty. “Oi… nae…” he muttered. “Oi might've been cleanin’ the oven…”

Smart Cookie merely shook his head and sighed. “Chancellor, this is Professor Query, here to take census.”

“Taking census?” the Chancellor gasped. “Oh, arr! Well, I suppose you can take my sense of hearin’. Don’t hear none but the jabb'ring o’ statesponies anyhow. But don’t touch me sense o’ humor, thou und'rstand?”

The Doctor grinned. “I see. How do you feel about common sense?”

“Ah, if Oi had any left, sure an’ thou could ‘ave it,” the Chancellor responded with a cockeyed grin and a sparkle in his eye that the Doctor found quite familiar; they saw it whenever they looked in a mirror.

“Oh, no…” Smart Cookie groaned. “There’s two of them.”

“Steady on, Cookie,” the Chancellor laughed. “No fear, I’ll hear thee out first, and then ye can head home.”

“Perhaps I can take away your sense of foreboding?” the Doctor asked mischievously. Smart Cookie glared at them. “Alright, alright, pax,” the pegasus sighed.

“Professor, would thee care to make thyself at home in the kitchen as I talk to my chief councilor?” Chancellor Puddinghead asked.

“Of course.” The pegasus pottered off down the hall and closed the kitchen door behind them.

The Chancellor closed the door to his study. Cookie was pacing nervously around the room. “I’m worried,” he began without preamble. “I be not sure what it is yet, but something is rotten here.”

Puddinghead nodded. “Speak on,” he encouraged.

“Tis… I think.... Oh, I know not, I know not!” Cookie snapped, turning away. “Not everypony is as intuitive as you are, Chancellor.”

“Hmm. That be true,” the Chancellor admitted. “So let dear ol’ Uncle Puddinghead work it out, aye?”

“Thou art barely three years my elder,” muttered Cookie, in the tone of one who has made that particular correction many times over.

“So. When didst thou begin to worry after this whate’er-it-be?” the Chancellor asked, leaning forward.

“This morn only,” Smart Cookie replied. “I felt… there was something in the trees. Watching. Oh, it sounds foolish, e’en to mine own ears,” he sighed. “T’was like as not just a squirrel, or a bird mayhap.”

Chancellor Puddinghead frowned slightly, but nodded. “Aye. Very like it was. But, supposing it were not... Well, let Oi know if thou have any other feelings o’ wrongness. There may be more sooth in them than thou suppose.”

Cookie looked as though he were about to say something, but changed his mind. “Aye. I shall. Thankee, Chancellor. Pleasant dreams.”

“An’ to thee, Smart Cookie,” the Chancellor returned with a broad grin. The smile immediately fell, however, as soon as the other pony had left. Smart Cookie was a good sort, but didn’t trust himself nearly enough. It was rather a good thing that the Chancellor knew potential when he saw it, else the stallion would still be a laborer. He glanced briefly at the wall that stood between the room he was in and his kitchen, then turned to where the councilor had stood. “He said something,” he thought aloud, staring at that wall. “Not somepony. Something.”

***

Smart Cookie walked home with his head down, lost in thought. At times, he wondered if the Chancellor wasn’t cleverer than he seemed. At other times, he wondered if the Chancellor was just a very charismatic and lucky idiot. Right now, he wasn’t sure what to think. For the briefest of moments, a shadow crossed the sun and Smart Cookie shuddered.

For the briefest of moments, he thought once again that he was being watched. For the briefest of moments, he wondered if the village would be better off being led by someone with common sense. For the briefest of moments, he entertained dark and dangerous thoughts.

But then, the sun returned, and Cookie shook his head. What had he been thinking? Nothing very important, he was sure. The councilor continued on his way home, not noticing that it was an utterly cloudless afternoon.

***

Chancellor Puddinghead paused for a moment in the hall outside his kitchen door. There was no noise from inside. He quickly pushed the door open, his eyes darting from side to side. Professor Query sat idly at the table, spinning an empty pewter mug around in his hooves. He glanced up. “Ah, Chancellor,” he said, smiling faintly. “Thank you for your hospitality.”
Chancellor Puddinghead smiled broadly back. “Ah, ‘twere naught. Hast thou anywhere to sleep tonight? I’ve a spare bed, if thou desire it…”

“Thank you, that would be most kind,” the Doctor replied with a nod. “However, I simply must repay you for your hospitality. Are there any chores that you need done? Chimneys measured?”

“Nae, Oi fear not,” the Chancellor replied with a sad shake of the head.

“You should,” the Doctor muttered, his face falling for just a moment as he cast a glance toward the forest.

“All Oi ask of thee is some entertainment,” the Chancellor said, spreading his hooves placatingly. “Terribly dull life out here.”

The Doctor nodded thoughtfully. “Yes…” he agreed. “Some sleight of hoof, perhaps? I am rather good at that.”

“Perhaps a game,” suggested the Chancellor. “Care thee for chess? Cards?”

“Hm. Neither of those for me, thank you. I’ve had enough of chess to last a lifetime or three, and as for cards…” he blinked a few times. “Well. Let’s just say that I’ve lost the Ace from up my sleeve.”

The Chancellor nodded. “Playing solitaire?” he asked sympathetically.

“You might say that, yes,” the Doctor muttered, glaring at the mug grimly. “How do you feel about peg-the-board?”

Chancellor Puddinghead cocked his head thoughtfully, sucking in a long breath. “I can no' say that I’ve ever heard tell of it,” he said.

“I’m rather new to it myself,” the Doctor admitted. They pulled out a triangular piece of wood, riddled with holes, as well as several short, colorful sticks of a material the Chancellor didn’t recognize.

“Where did thee get that?”

“Susan’s Diner, off Route 66,” the pegasus replied.

“Eh?”

“Not important. Now, how you play is, you put in all the pegs. One hole will be left empty, though you can choose whichever one you like to leave open.” They demonstrated as they spoke, filling in fourteen of the fifteen holes. “Now, you jump one peg over another into an empty hole, then remove the peg you jumped. The object of the game is to have only one peg on the board at the end.”

The Chancellor took the board from the Doctor, examining it minutely. “Shouldn’t be too difficult,” he said, setting up the board.

After a few attempts, he looked up at the Doctor. “A most interestin’ game,” he said. “No’ quite what Oi thought thou wouldst suggest, though.”

“Oh? Why not?”

He shrugged. “Seems t’ Oi, most intellectual types like their games like chess, with metty-fors in. Never understood what the metty was for, meself…”

“Ah. Well, this is no exception. May I?” the Doctor asked, reaching for the board.

The Chancellor waved his agreement, leaning back in his seat. The Doctor set up the board carefully. “Now,” they began, “What one needs to win at this sort of game is strategy. The sort of cleverness that allows one to see several steps ahead, you see.” They made a few jumps.

“You just need to keep an eye on how all the pieces fit together,” they continued, still jumping the pegs over one another. “How each move impacts future moves, and how it was impacted by past ones. Keep that up, see the patterns...” they jumped the last peg. “...and you’ll win every time.”

The Chancellor nodded slowly. “So… be this about how one sets up their forces?” he guessed.

“Not bad. Not at all bad. Not too long ago, it might have been,” the Doctor conceded. “Now, however, I ask you to look at what remains.”

Chancellor Puddinghead frowned. “Only th’ last peg,” he said.

“Exactly,” the Doctor said, his brow darkening. “One peg, all alone. King of his own world. King of nothing.”

The Chancellor tilted his head back. “A morality play?” he asked dubiously.

“It needs a little work, I admit,” the Doctor said, setting down the board on the table. “Nevertheless, the point stands.”

“Aye? And what’s that, then?”

“The point, my dear Chancellor, is that the three tribes must unite. If one pony were to disrupt the order as it stands now, if one tribe were to, ah, ‘jump’ the others and defeat them, it would be world-changing, and not in a good way.”

“So, ye be here to settle us down, is that it?” the Chancellor asked, his face hardening. “Keep the peace?”

“Nothing quite so mundane. I am here to protect you all from another force, one who would find the disharmony and strife between the tribes to be beneficial, even enjoyable.”

The Chancellor blinked. He had been expecting either a flat denial or a confession, not this nonsense. He briefly toyed with the idea that this stallion might simply be pretending to be mad, but decided it fairly unlikely. And if there was anyone who could tell feigned madness, it was him. Nevertheless…

The Doctor was still watching him. The pegasus' eyes were like stars— bright and shining, but cold, and very far away. “Of what sort o’ force do ye speak?” the Chancellor asked carefully. Even if the Doctor was lying, it could only be beneficial to get more information.

The Doctor frowned, kicking one back hoof over the other and leaning slantways against the table. “I’m not yet sure,” they admitted. “I have my suspicions, of course, but it will take time to test them. Even then, I’m not certain as to what may be done about it. Until then, we must be on our guard. Everypony must be on guard.”

“I see. I’ll call a gen’ral assembly on the morrow, to make sure that everypony keeps an eye open for… whate’er it be.”

The Doctor smiled a real, honest smile. “Thank you, Chancellor. Now,” they added, “I daresay it’s time for me to retire. Good night,”

“Aye, and to thee, Professor.”

The Doctor nodded, and went off to their room. They stared out the window for a long time. Night had fallen, and only the barest hint of the moon could be seen. Darkness enshrouded the town, and the candle light made the shadows dance and flicker as though alive. The Doctor stared into the abyss, pensive. For a moment, they felt the abyss stare back. They hardened their glare, and the abyss slunk away like a frightened cat.

Well. Now at least they could try to get a look at the real problems here.

They cast their gaze out at the forest that surrounded the town, trees prepared at any moment to reclaim what had been theirs, bushes that rustled from wind or less natural forces, and the darkness that oozed from the foliage. This village could at any moment be swallowed whole, and no trace would be left of it.

Their brow darkened. They stared out at the forest for the rest of the night.

The Dead of the Night

“I still cannae believe that bloody old stick-in-th'-mud is makin’ us patrol th’ woods,” Dowsing Stick groused. “What’s he think we’ll find? It’s only them two fillies makin’ up a ruckus.”

“Let’s not look too badly on it,” Pease Porridge said. “I think we be far awa’ enough fra’ the village not to disturb anypony.”

Dowsing Stick grinned lecherously at his lover. “I hope for their sake we are…” he growled. “Let’s have out yer ol’ ‘stick-in-th’-mud'…”

The two drew into a tight embrace, kissing passionately, when suddenly, a breeze snuffed out their lantern. “Wha’s that?” murmured Dowsing Stick.

“None too important, luv,” Pease Porridge assured him. “Some things be best suited for the dark anyhow…”

I quite agree.

The noises that woke the villagers that night were far more familiar and much shorter than usual. Nopony slept well that night.

***

“Celly?”

The white mare slowly opened one eye to glare at her sister. “What.”

“I heard somepony screaming.”

“‘S just the wind. Go back to bed.”

“I think it might be the noises the Chancellor told us about.”

“Great. Mystery solved. Go to sleep, Luna.”

“I wonder why we didn’t hear them before?”

“Probably too far away. Now hush, I’m trying to sleep.”

“Will you sing to me?”

“No. ‘S late. Go bed.”

The blue mare peered out of the cave entrance. The darkness seemed to beckon her out. Come out, little pony, it whispered, Come out and play…

Luna lit her horn. The blue light shone across the cavern and the trees outside. There was nopony there and the voice was gone. She shivered, and scampered back into the cave and its faintly glowing crystals.

“Celly, I’m scared. Can I sleep with ye?”

Her sister grunted and raised a wing. Luna lay down next to Celestia, who lay down her large white wing like a blanket. “G’night, Lulu,” she whispered.

“Ni’, Celly.”

***

The Chancellor was not often what one would call “stoic”. Generally, he was as flighty as a pegasus and temperate as an afternoon in May. Today, however, his face was stormy. “What can ‘ave caused this?” he asked, glaring at the forest. “‘Oo could ‘ave done such a thing?”

The Doctor stood at his side, grimly staring at the bodies that had been lain carefully at the foot of the path. “I wish that I could tell you, Chancellor. I’m not medically trained myself, not in any helpful capacity, but at a guess, I’d say that… well. It’s hard to say exactly what happened, but I doubt it was pleasant.”

The corpses were desiccated, dried husks, barely more than skin and bone. All the blood in their bodies had vanished. Judging by the pattern of the ghoulish red stains, they had bled out from the eyes, nose, ears, and every other orifice besides. More terrifying still were their expressions, frozen not in fear, but merely surprise, as though they hadn’t the time to react properly before dying. The Doctor quietly pulled out a pair of kerchiefs from under their hat and laid them respectfully over the faces of the deceased.

“Hast thou no idear wha’ can ‘ave done this, Professor?”

“Oh, I've got several ideas, Chancellor. None of them pleasant,” the Doctor replied, staring into the forest. “For instance, it could be that the Vampires have begun to rise again. Or perhaps the Haemovores have managed to cross the Void, though I rather think I’ve dealt with them once and for all. For all I know, it could be carnivorous butterflies!” They glared at the forest. “But none of that seems quite right…” they said, voice sinking down to a lower pitch.

The Chancellor sighed heavily. “Oi see,” he said. “In tha’ case, Oi’d best call up an emergency assembly. Care thou to join us?”

“I’m afraid not,” the Doctor replied, finally glancing away from the forest to meet Chancellor Puddinghead’s questioning eyes. “I need to make some inquiries. If we are to get to the bottom of this, I need more information. Fortunately, I rather believe I know some ponies who might just have a bit of first-hoof knowledge on the matter...”

***

Luna was bored. Celestia had insisted that they go out to collect berries and nuts for the coming winter. “We’ll have to do it anon, lest we starve as layabeds,” she had said, “So we may as well get done with it.”

Luna hated it when her sister had a point.

She kicked at the ground, half out of annoyance, half out of desire to do something, anything, other than poking around in the bushes. “Luna, do that not,” Celestia chided. “Thou shalt get dirty.”

“Celly, we be in the middle of a forest. We be searching these bushes for berries and fighting with wee squirrels for nuts. We’ll be getting dirty anyhow.”

Indeed, Celestia’s pristine white coat was already covered in grass stains and dirt, and Luna only appeared any better because the dirt didn’t show up as well against her darker fur. Celestia looked back at herself and sighed. “Aye, mayhap.” she admitted. “But there’s no reason to make it worse.”

“Kerchief?” a voice offered. Luna let out a small squeak and dove into the thicket.

“Aye, thank thee…” Celestia replied distractedly, accepting the cloth before suddenly registering what had happened. “Professor?” she gasped, spinning around, “What— when— where— how— why—”

“And who,” the pegasus finished with a slight smile, head dipping in acknowledgement. “All very good questions. However, I’m afraid I have more than a couple of questions for the two of you first.”

“No,” Celestia replied firmly. “I think not. We should talk not to strangers. And thou, sir, thou art stranger than most.”

The Doctor smiled faintly. “Fair,” he acknowledged, bowing his head. “What must I do to prove my good intentions?”

“Tell us who thou art. No silly titles, I want thy name, and I want to know how thou know of us, and I want—”

The Doctor held up a hoof. “My name is the Doctor,” he explained. “That’s all. As for how I know you… well, that’s a long, complex story.”

Celestia sat down, glaring at him. “We have time. If thou have not, I suggest thou make it, or leave us.”

“Funny you should say that,” the Doctor murmured. “Very well. I hadn’t planned on revealing myself this early, but I am a time traveler. I met you some years ago, far in your future, and I’ve kept meeting you ever since.”

He paused for a moment, considering. “You know, that edited down surprisingly well,” he mused, brows lifting in surprise.

Celestia stared at him for a long moment. “Right. Thankee terribly for that most interesting story…”

“I can prove it,” the Doctor said mildly.

“How?” Celestia demanded.

“Follow me,” the Doctor said, smiling faintly. “Don’t worry, it’s not very far.”

“Why? We’ve already established thou be not trustworthy. Thou may be mad, more like as not!”

The Doctor shrugged heavily. “Mad? No. At worst, mildly frrrustrated. But I can tell where I’m not wanted,” he sighed, trotting away.

Celestia turned away in a huff, but from her hiding-place in the berry bushes, Luna watched him go, eyes glittering with excitement. “A time traveler?” she murmured.

***

“Order! Order!” Chancellor Puddinghead demanded. “The hon’rable Councillor Smart Cookie is recognized.”

The green stallion rose to speak, but before he could, he was interrupted by another. “Chancellor! We have no time to waste prattling about this like bed-pressers! We must strike now!” Councillor Barley Corn shouted.

The Chancellor glared sharply at him. “Aye… an’ we will, have no fear. But until we ken ‘oo has done this, we can do naught.”

“Is it nae obvious?” Barley responded, getting up from his chair. “It must‘ve been the other tribes! Who can tell what spells yon unicorns might cast, or what weaponry the pegasi may use?”

Murmurs of agreement began to echo around the meeting hall. “True, true… bleedin’ mysterious, unicorns…”

“Bloody shifty if ye ax me…”

“Aye, an’ th’ pegasi can be vurra dangerous…”

“There was a pegasus ‘ere, just yesterday!”

“A pegasus ate my roof once!”

The Chancellor banged his gavel several times. “Order!” he shouted. “Thou shall come to order!”

The crowd quieted instantly. Even Barley was taken aback. The Chancellor never shouted, not in anger. After a long pause, he began to speak. “Oi am well aware of th’ pegasus,” he began. “He calls ‘imself Professor Query, an’ 'e ‘as come to take census. ‘E also ‘as been good enough to ‘elp us with our investigation o’ th’ matter, and ‘as been more ‘elp than some others Oi may mention, Oi name no names.” He glared around the room, lingering for an extra few moments on Barley, who stared back with icy indifference. “Now, as I was saying, Councillor Smart Cookie, ‘oo is by no stretch o’ th’ imagination Councillor Barley Corn, ‘as th’ floor.”

Smart Cookie rose and in his calming, sonorous tone, gave a lecture about being alert and aware of any dangers. Chancellor Puddinghead tuned him out, focusing instead on Barley’s twitching ear and pursed lips. Why was he so fervent to act in vengeance against the other two tribes on behalf of two stallions he had openly hated? Well. That was easy enough. Barley had never liked the other tribes. His father had been accidentally killed by a squad of pegasi when he was just a colt. But these deaths certainly seemed convenient for him— the lives of two ponies he'd never liked anyway in exchange for greater passions against the other tribes? That seemed like the sort of bargain Barley would search for, the sort he might just kill for. But who could have done such a thing? And why would they listen to Barley, of all ponies? The Chancellor continued to brood over this as other councilors began to argue over the best course of action to take, none of them noticing how the shadows in the room were lengthening…

Evening Falling

The Doctor trotted through the woods, being careful not to go too fast, lest their pursuer get lost in the underbrush. They smiled at the faint sound of crunching dirt coming from behind them. The young mare probably thought she was being sneaky. She had fallen too far behind, once or twice, and the Doctor had had to start kicking up leaves or whistling to get her back on the scent. It had taken some doing not to reply “gesundheit” whenever she tried stifling a sneeze. Still, they were in the home stretch now. They could already see the TARDIS on the horizon, only a few meters more… “Doctor!” an angry voice roared from behind him.

The Time Lord turned to see a very angry looking Celestia glaring at him. “Where is she? What hast thou done with Luna?” she roared.

“My dear mare, I’m afraid I’ve not seen your sister since I left the two of you picking berries,” they replied mildly.

Celestia snorted. “Oh, aye, I’m sure,” she said.

They made a motion over their chest. “Cross my hearts, hope to cry, lead a camel through a needle’s eye.” Then they paused, putting hoof to chin. “Is that how that saying goes? I’m quite sure I’ve heard it another way…”

“Doctor! Give me back my sister!”

They held up their hooves placatingly. “As I’ve said, I haven’t seen your sister. Here, come with me. We can discuss this all over a nice cup of tea…”

Celestia charged, horn lowered, and the Doctor briefly reflected that, for all its magical prowess, a horn is more or less a pointy stick attached to a pony’s head. They leapt out of the way just in time, as Celestia’s momentum carried her crashing onwards through the TARDIS doors. The Doctor settled back down to the ground, breathing heavily. “Well,” they gasped, “I’m certainly glad I didn’t die like that. Simply being stabbed, just outside my ship? Terrible way to go…”

Celestia staggered out of the box, eyes wide. “What sorcery is this?” she demanded. “This box— ‘tis bigger on th’ interior!”

“Is it really?” the Doctor asked mildly. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Luna tumbled out of the hedges. “What? Bigger inside than out?”

“Luna!” Celestia gasped. “What— where— Ye be in a lot o’ trouble, Missy!”

“Uh-oh,” Luna said, a sheepish grin spreading over her face.

“Yes, well. Let’s discuss this inside, shall we? It looks like it’s going to rain,” the Doctor observed, glancing around at the darkening shadows.

Celestia scowled, but then sighed. “Thou are no going to leave us alone ‘til we do, art thou.”

“No.”

“Yay!” Luna cried. “We get t’ see a magic box! We get t’ see a magic box!”

“It’s not magic,” the Doctor corrected, “merely dimensionally transcendental engineering, far beyond the capabilities…” They took in the blank stares of the two sisters. “Well, never mind that now,” they sighed. “Just come in. I’ll fetch some cake out of the kitchens.”

***

The interior of the TARDIS was quite beautiful, like a gothic cathedron by way of steampunk. Luna stared up in faint awe at the soaring metal arches and intricate carvings on the walls. “Coo,” she said at last, “It’s not ‘alf fancy…”

Celestia was still staring around, warring with her own emotions. She didn’t trust the Doctor in the slightest. On the other hoof, he had a box which was bigger on the inside, and did, admittedly, look rather like a time machine, whatever that was meant to be. It certainly hadn’t been here last week. Besides, the Doctor had yet to attack them, or harm them in any way. He had, in fact, just left them here with the firm instruction not to touch any of the controls before bustling off to where the kitchens presumably were. Besides, he had promised them cake. Celestia had never had cake before, but she had seen it… Oh, she had seen it…

“Here we are,” the Doctor said, appearing in the open doorway, a sizable dessert sat on his back. It was slightly flat and crooked, as though it had been knocked about. “Sorry about the mess. I had to rescue this from the court of Marie Antoinette, just before the revolution began. It was a bit of a risk, but well worth it. Just look at it.”

It was a very impressive cake, three tiers high and decorated with pillars made of sculpted sugar and roses made of marzipan. “Celly?” Luna whispered, “Thou art drooling.”

Celestia quickly composed herself once more. The Doctor appeared not to have noticed, merely placing the platter on a table. He gestured for the two alicorns to sit down beside him. Luna did so eagerly, Celestia more warily.

“I’ll be mother, shall I?” he suggested, reaching for the knife, but Celestia snatched it away.

“No, no,” she said, “I insist.”

The Doctor shrugged and sat back. “Now,” they said as Celestia began to cut the first slice, “I trust you heard the noises last night?”

“Aye,” Luna replied. “Celly thought they must be a nightmare.”

“Hm. An interrresting choice of words, but I’m afraid not. What you heard last night was the sound of death itself.”

Celestia froze, staring up at the Doctor. “I beg yer pardon?”

The Doctor’s eyes were cold now, and far away. “Murrrder,” he rolled. “The killing of a pair of innocent stallions.” They stared hard first at Celestia, then at Luna, both of whom sat petrified in their seats. “There were no witnesses. You were the closest.”

“Art thou accusing us of murder?” Celestia demanded, fearful.

The Doctor smiled, like sunlight after rain. “No. No, I don’t think either of you are quite the sort. Anyway, what would be your motive? No, I am here to ascertain what you know of last evening’s events. Did you see anything unusual? Hear anything out of the ordinary?”

“No,” said Celestia firmly.

“Well…” Luna began.

“No,” Celestia repeated, all but shouting. “Luna, we are leaving.”

“But—” Whatever Luna had to say was lost as her sister dragged her from the table and out of the TARDIS. The Doctor made no move to stop them, merely peering after them with sadness in their blue eyes.

“Be safe!” they warned after the retreating alicorns, but not quite loud enough to hear. They considered the lateness of the day and the darkness of the sky and sighed. “Best, perhaps, to stay here for the night,” they mused. “Yes, better not rrrisk rrracing against the sun.” They nodded, and then turned back to the recently cut cake. “Back into stasis for you, I suppose.”

***

Night was falling in the little village. In light of the recent deaths, everypony had closed up shop early, including the local bar. The town drunk, Honey Mead was idly waiting just outside the doors, just waiting for it to open again. It was nice to enjoy the passing parade of townsponies, even if tonight was much quieter than usual. He hadn’t seen but a few passersby for the last hour, and most seemed in too much of a hurry to stop and chat. The older stallion was slumped against the bench in boredom. He brightened slightly when he saw another pony trotting toward him. “Ar’noon,” he slurred. “Noice e’ennin ferrit.”

Chancellor Barley Corn glared at the elder stallion. “Hast thou no place else to be, thou pickled sot?”

Mead smiled, showing all of his remaining teeth. “Sure Oi does. Inside. An' Oi'll be here bright'n'early tomorrer when th' barman opens 'er up, dontchaknow…”

Barley glared pure iron at the other. “Disgusting,” he snarled, turning away and storming off. Mead watched him go, chuckling slightly. Th’ councilor never relaxed, that was his trouble. Never rested, never stopped t’ eat the flowers… Lost in his reverie, Mead nearly missed the shadowy figure walking by. “Luvverly e’en’in, innit?” he greeted. The figure stopped and turned toward him.

How good of you to notice.

Mead paused for a moment. There seemed something terribly strange about this stranger. “‘Ere, whatchoo doin’ out this way, eh? What brings ye t’ see ol’ ‘Oney Mead, hm?”

I was looking said the stranger for a drink. But a bite will do quite nicely as well.

As the stranger’s mouth opened up impossibly wide, Honey Mead realized what had struck him as so odd. He looked exactly like Councilor Barley. But then, everything else was blood and screams.

Intermission 2

"Oh, shoot."

The Doctor paused his tale once more and glanced at Ditzy. "Pardon me?"

"We're out of tea. I'd better go and make a new pot."

"Oh, I'll go and get it, there's no bother."

"No, you got the last one, it's my turn. Dinky, would you like to help?"

"Not really." She caught a glimpse of her mother's face. "On second thought, I'll help you get out some more cookies."

"Thank you, muffin!"

Both of them quickly pushed back from the table and hurried into the kitchen, leaving the Doctor alone with the two sisters. They were both looking at him expectantly. He coughed and shifted a little in his chair. "So," he said. "Er, how's Canterlot?"

"Dreadfully dull," Luna said, rolling her eyes.

"As it always shall be," Celestia agreed, leaning forward on the table. "Some days, Doctor, I think back on all the different governments we encountered in our travels. I remember the master computers, and the mad scientists, and the power-craving usurpers, and all the rest, and I wonder if it wouldn't have been more effective to let them see how it really was to run a country. They'd be leaping out the windows before you could say abdication process."

The Doctor laughed. "Didn't you ever wonder why I always insisted on running off before cleanup?" he teased.

"You're no better," Luna said. "How long did you say you served as your planet's president? A fortnight?"

"Adding up all the separate occasions, I'd say it was nearer... say, two months."

"And how many times did you appoint a regent, hop in the TARDIS, and run away again?"

"About three, all told. Once, they didn't even get me back to the Capitol before I dashed off again."

Celestia threw back her head and laughed, her voice rich and warm. "I'm not in the least surprised."

"Oi!" The Doctor crossed his hooves over his chest. "I could've run Gallifrey if I'd wanted."

"But you didn't," Luna chimed.

"True enough, true enough..." He tilted his chair back. "Been awhile, hasn't it? 'Specially for you, Luna."

He paused, a stricken look flashing over his face. "Oh, sorry, that was rude, wasn't it? This face seems quite rude, I think. Rude and not ginger, the worst of all possible combinations..."

Luna rolled her eyes. "Please, Doctor. It's quite bad enough that my sister continues to blame herself for my banishment. I will not have you trotting on eggshells as well."

The Doctor frowned. "Well, alright. If you're sure."

"I've stopped blaming myself, Doctor. You should as well."

He went very still. "So that's what this is."

"What do you mean?" Celestia asked.

"Don't be coy, your highness, I taught you everything you know about diplomacy."

Celestia snorted. "As if. You once called the Ovinian king's mother a controlling old bat."

"I never said I led by example."

"We're getting away from the point," Luna said firmly. "Doctor, this isn't an intervention."

"Isn't it?"

"No, Doctor," Celestia said. "Interventions are planned. Invitations would need to be sent out to all your friends. I'm not quite sure where we'd hold an intervention large enough for all of them to attend, though the royal ballroom might fit the bill."

"This is just a quiet, concerned conversation," Luna said. "Two of your oldest friends, here to listen and to advise."

The Doctor stared between them, his face a mask. After a moment, he sighed. "Sometimes I forget how old the two of you really are. Alright. Alright. If any creature on this planet could understand, it'd be the two of you. Possibly also Discord, but, well, I'm not about to ask Discord for help with anything."

"Wise."

The Doctor let out another long sigh. "Put a silencing spell on the room."

Luna did a double take. "Trust you not your own wife? Your own daughter?"

"To the ends of the universe. But they don't need to hear this."

Celestia bowed her head, and a golden bubble surrounded the trio. The Doctor closed his eyes. "Everything I touch, I ruin," he said. "I turn the people I love into weapons. I saw that firsthand. Ready to nuke the Earth to defeat the Daleks, or blow themselves up to save the universe..."

He drew a deep, shuddering breath. "And they die. Or they leave. Or I leave them. Maybe they're right to. D'you know what I did, not too long ago? I nearly crashed the timelines because of one single woman. I couldn't let her die, even if it meant the whole future would break down. She took the decision out of my hands. When I regenerated, or thought I regenerated, I thought that would be it. New face, new me. Instead, I wind up regenerating into the same ol' Doctor, same ol' face, same ol' mistakes."

Luna looked at him sorrowfully. Celestia shook her head. "Ridiculous."

"Beg pardon?"

"Ridiculous!" she thundered, letting the silence spell drop. "I won't hear another word of it. Doctor, how many lives have you saved? How many planets? How many times have you saved the universe?"

"Lost count."

"Well, then! Surely that means you're doing something right."

"How many lives have I cost, though?" he asked. "Planets doomed, entire species wiped out. I'm not a hero, I'm a lucky idiot. The universe would be better without--"

Luna slammed a hoof on the table. "Do not," she growled. "Never for a moment, Doctor, should you even dare think that."

"I've destroyed lives."

"As have I!"

"As have I." Celestia looked at the other two. "So it's settled then. We all should have perished back in that village. Only then would the universe have peace."

"If we'd done that, the world would've been swallowed by darkness," the Doctor argued.

Celestia lowered her head and smirked at him.

"I-- fine, yes, fair play to you," the Doctor acknowledged. "But--"

"Doctor, were it not for you, this planet wouldn't exist any longer."

"Confirmation bias," he retorted, but it was obvious he was losing steam.

Celestia sat back. "You are a force for good, Doctor. You knew that once. I hope that someday, you can see it again."

"I hope that someday, I can be that again."

Ditzy trotted back into the room, Dinky at her tail with a tray of cookies.

"Did I miss anything?" Ditzy asked brightly, pouring herself another cup of tea.

The Doctor and the Princesses glanced at one another awkwardly. The Doctor cleared his throat. "Now, where was I? Oh yes, the next morning..."

What We Do In the Night

The meeting hall was silent, but the tension was as unto a thunderstorm. The Chancellor’s brow was heavy and dark as the night. At length, he spoke, and did so with none of his usual good humor. “Oi trust,” he began, “tha’ ye have ‘eard tell o’ the death o’ ‘Oney Mead.”

Murmurs of assent echoed throughout the chamber. “In light o’ th’ recent deaths, it ‘as become necessary t’ select a plan o’ action. ‘Ave Oi any suggestions?”

Councilor Barley banged his hoof on the table. “Three ponies ‘ave died, Chancellor! We must take action ‘gainst the killers!”

Councilor Smart Cookie leaned forward in his seat. “Know thou wha’ has done this?” he asked.

Barley scowled. “These murders could only be done by them wi’ magic o’ th’ unicorns, speed o’ th’ pegasi, and knowledge o’ th’ earth ponies. There are naught but two beings in the world ‘oo may ‘ave that power, and they are both in this town! Celestia an’ Luna must die!”

Murmurs of shock echoed through the assembled councilors, and Chancellor Puddinghead looked taken aback. “Barley,” he began, “We’ve nae proof—”

“But who else could it be?” cried Councilor Slate, her voice desperate. “I second th’ motion!”

“Any discussion?” the Chancellor asked hopefully.

“Aye,” came a voice.

“Th’ court recognizes th’ hon’rable Councilor Oat Cake,” Chancellor Puddinghead said, relieved.

“Oi fink we ought to find tha’ pegasus what were snoopin’ round earlier,” he rumbled. “‘E might ‘ave summat t’ do wif this too.”

The Chancellor leaned forward. “Now see ‘ere,” he began, but was overwhelmed with shouts. He banged the gavel up and down to no avail, until the table let out a sickening crunch and snapped right down the middle. The room fell silent, aside from the Chancellor’s labored breathing. “We— cannae— jest— go— killin’— ponies— on suspicion,” he wheezed. “Now, let us say ye be right aboot th’ sisters and th’ Professor bein’ killers, which seems more’n a bit unlikely to Oi. Well, we can arrest ‘em, sure enough, an’ if somepony else dies, we’ll know it ain’t them. Right?”

“An’ if nopony dies, then it was!” cried somepony else.

“No,” the Chancellor began, but was once more overwhelmed by the voices of the council. He met Smart Cookie’s eyes. They were wide and confused. He shook his head. Never had any of the councilors ever acted this way before.

“The hunt is on!” one shouted.

With a roar, the assembled honorable councilors swept out of the building, apart from three. Barley Corn stood at the door, smirking at the Chancellor and Councilor Cookie. “At last,” he sighed, a blissful look in his eyes, “Sanity is restored.” Then he, too, went off to join the baying hounds charging for the forest.

***

The Doctor was caught first. They were already heading back toward the town, and were more than slightly taken aback to find themself at the mercy of an angry mob. “Ouch!” they shouted as a hoof connected with their cheek. “There’s no need for such violence— Ouch! Ruffians! Renengades! Rhubarb! I’ll come quietly!”

They were sent limping back to town, flanked by a trio of ponies. Their left eye was swelling up, and their body was covered with bruises. One of their wings hung at an awkward angle. All of that stung less, to their mind, than the unforeseen nature of the attack. Were they losing their touch? Well. If they were or not, they knew what would come next. The Doctor looked back into the woods, silently hoping that the two young mares that lived within its confines would be safe.

But with one of their quarry downed, the pack continued onward, baying for the blood of their enemies.

***

Luna woke up to the sound of shouts, and found that yes, waking up with a sword at your throat is exactly as bad as it sounds. Maybe worse when the one holding the sword is one of the stallions one had been crushing on, a twisted expression of anger and victory sculpted across his features. “Nae sudden moves, wench, or I’ll slice ye clear open,” he snarled around the sword.

Celestia didn’t go quietly. Perhaps it is for the best if we leave it at that. The only thing more dangerous, vicious, and bloody-minded than an armed and angry mob, after all, is a wounded, armed, and angry mob.

***

When Celestia woke up again, she had to blink a few times. Her mane was bloodied, and it had dried across her eyes. With a hoof, she brushed it away, nearly crying out as pain shot through her bruised, broken body. She couldn’t see out of one eye, as it had swollen shut. With her good eye, she saw her little sister playing a game of cards with… “Doctor,” she said flatly. There was no rage this time, no suspicion, merely resignation.

They glanced up. “Oh, good morning, Celestia,” they said. “It is still morning, I believe?”

“What— what ‘appened?”

Luna sighed. “The whole town thinks we did for Pease Porridge, Dowsing Stick, an’ Honey Mead, Councilor Barley convinced th' council to arrest us, and the Doctor is learning me to play Up and Down the River.”

The Doctor shuffled the deck. “Yes, and she told me a very interesting story about the other night,” he said. “Mysterious voices from the shadows, tempting her into the darkness… Very odd, wouldn’t you say?”

“Twas just a nightmare,” Luna said, eyes downcast.

“Hm. Nightmares can have rrrather more power than we give them credit for,” the Doctor replied, shuffling the deck.

“I don’t—” Celestia began, but stopped when the door to the cell opened. A trio of councilors walked in, Barley Corn at the forefront.

“Yes?” the Doctor asked, before a hoof smacked him across the face.

“Shut up,” growled the orange mare who had struck him.

Barley glared at each of the prisoners in turn. “Oi like not any o’ ye,” he said. “But Oi be of a fair mind. Confess now, an we’ll give ye a quick death.”

Nopony spoke. “What, none of ye craven canker-blossoms will turn tail?” he taunted.

“I thought thou wanted us to shut up,” Celestia said poisonously.

In an instant, Barley had her smashed up against the wall. “Clever mare, art thou?” he asked, his eyes dark and dangerous. “Oh, clever, clever… not so clever now, is ye? Wouldn’t be so clever if I were to do this!” He struck her directly on the horn, and she responded by shoving him away into his cohorts, so hard they went sprawling from the cell.

“Touch. Me. Not,” Celestia roared, her eyes faintly glowing.

Barley stood. “I’ll see ye suffer,” he growled. “I’ll see ye dead, wench!”

“Good-bye,” the Doctor said, gently closing the door behind them.

Celestia felt her legs wobble, and fell to the ground, tears streaming from her face. Her body was wracked by silent sobs, each one bringing fresh pain from her injuries. Luna sat at her side, holding her sister tight. The Doctor, sensing that this was something in which they should not be involved at present, simply sat, staring out the window at the sun. It was at its zenith, now. But it wouldn’t remain there for long.

Red Skies at Night

It was late, now. The trio had endured much that day. The councilors had come again and again. Some of them were polite. Most were not. Most were not violent. Some were. The shouts and jeers of the adults— and foals, as well? Surely not, surely there could not be that much hatred in their hearts— hurt as badly as did any of Luna’s injuries. She had come out the best of the three, but that didn’t mean much.

There had been a few bright spots— the Doctor seemed to be doing their best to cheer them both up. They had played the spoons for a little while, then did some card tricks. Celestia actually smiled in delight when they turned the entire deck around to reveal her face or cutie mark on each of the cards. Once that had run out, they began to tell stories. Places they had been, ponies they had met, planets they had saved.

Celestia wasn’t quite sure whether to believe them or not, but Luna was enchanted. She loved the tales about the reckless adventurer Daring Do, the brave warrior Leela, the clever tale-teller Apple Core, and the intellectual Time Lady Romanadvortatrelunda… she gasped in all the right places, and cried every time somepony died. Even Celestia was drawn in somewhat by the stories about the dreadful Daleks and the ferocious Satyrs of Bacchus. Eventually, however, the day wore on into evening, and as the sky darkened, so too did the Doctor’s countenance. They took nervous glances out the window and toward the door, sometimes even fluttering their feathers as though about to take flight, before catching sight of Celestia’s injured leg or Luna’s crumpled wing and sitting back down with a sigh.

The sky had darkened into twilight, the sunset only barely still shimmering on the horizon. The Doctor had abandoned storytelling and had taken instead to nervously pacing across the floor. “Where is he?” they murmured. “I was quite sure we would have been let go by now. Surely they can’t mean to keep us in here all night?”

“I fear they do,” said a dolorous voice from outside the cell.

The Doctor perked up and ran over to the barred window. “Chancellor Puddinghead!” they said, delighted. “How good of you to come by. I don’t suppose you’re here to let us out, are you?”

The elderly stallion shook his head. “No, Doctor. We have come to converse with ye.”

“...We?” the Doctor asked, jaw slackening.

“We.” confirmed a voice from behind the Chancellor. Barley Corn stepped forth, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. The Doctor peered into the room beyond their cell, only to see several other councilors staring back with various degrees of hatred and fear. Smart Cookie stood there as well, staring at the ground.

“Ah. Well, I suppose there’s nothing objectionable about a little light conversation,” the Doctor said cautiously. “What would you like to talk about? The weather perhaps? Unseasonably cold for this time of year. Dark, too.”

“No, Doctor," Barley said, shark teeth flashing in his smile. "We be here to talk about— murder…”

“Yes, I rrrather thought you would be,” the Doctor replied, brows lowering. “Well, we didn’t do it, I can tell you that much. If you’d be quite so good as to let us out, I can go back to trying to find out who did—”

“Thou cannae, Doctor,” Smart Cookie said, eyes lowered to the floor. “Should others die tonight, ye shall be proved innocent. If ye be released, today shall be for naught.”

Luna snorted. “And if the true killer happens not to strike tonight?”

Nopony spoke. Silence stuck in the throat like a lozenge. One councilor let out an a-hem of phlegm. “Ye have struck twice in two nights,” he began, but Celestia cut him off.

“Us? We did? The killer did, you mean,” she said, venom in her tone. “Even should somepony die while we be in here, ye shall pin it on our tails, regardless!”

“Justice will be done!” another councilor piped, but she shrunk back under the combined glowers of the prisoners.

“And more to the point,” the Doctor said, “what if somepony does die while we’re in here? What if we could have stopped it?” There was no malice in the Doctor’s voice, only sorrow. Only disappointment.

"As you stopped the last three, you mean," Barley said, goading.

The Doctor gazed at him, having apparently not heard. “But no. No, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

The Doctor’s eyes were sharp and piercing as they swept the room. Everypony in his gaze felt that they weren’t just being stared at. They were being read. Nothing, no secret, no thought, no emotion was safe from those eyes.

“Yes, it all becomes clear, now," the Doctor continued, returning his gaze to meet Barley's with a level stare. "Kill off a few ponies here and there, nopony important, nopony good, nopony who fits into your worldview. Kill off the odd ones. The drunkard. The gay couple. What entertainment have you tonight, I wonder? The mare who jilted you? The stallion that talks with his mouth full? Perhaps the little foal down the block whose ball went into your yard one time too many? Or maybe a councilor who disagreed with you on an important vote?” Ice-blue eyes flickered once more over the suddenly shaken ponies in the room.

Barley met their gaze levelly, but his hoof scraped at the floor. “What proof hast thou?”

“Prrroof?” the Doctor snapped. “Who needs proof when you already have a witch hunt already teetering at the edge of stability, a town that only needed an excuse to go over the prrrecipice? Blame the odd ones, that’s always been your modus operrrandi anyway. And then, why stop with us? Why not go on to war, warrr with the pegasi, the unicorns? Wars that you, with your strange, deadly power, would be certain to win?”

The councilor was growing angrier now. The shadows of the room seemed to flicker under the candlelight. “And who be thee to tell me otherwise?” he demanded. “Far too long we’ve suffered from ponies like ye. Pegasi an’ uni-corns an’ layabouts! No! No longer! I shall see to that!”

Chancellor Puddinghead spun around to look at Barley, shock etched into his features. "What are you saying?" he demanded. "Do you mean that you are responsible for this madness? I knew you were a vengeful fool, Barley--"

"A fool?" Barley snapped, rounding on the Chancellor. "Says the pot to the kettle, you old windbag! We are starved and extorted, and you seek no battle? Politics is the negotiations of the weak and blithering. I call for a new era. One with earth ponies first, last, and only."

“Oh, yes,” the Doctor said, sneering, “That’s always the way with you lot. Morrre strength! Morrre power! If somepony can’t keep to your standards, make an example of them! Make them better, make them stronger, make them rrright, isn’t that it?”

“Aye!”

“And then, once you’ve done that, strrrike them out! You can’t have anypony around that’s better than you, no! You have all the power! All the strength! All the cake you can eat, and all that you can have as well!”

“AYE!”

The shadows were dancing now, frantically flickering. The erratic lighting illuminated Barley’s face, full of mad lust for power for but an instant. The Doctor nodded, as the warmth returned to their eyes. “Well. Now I’m certain you’re insane. I just wanted to check.”

Barley’s face contorted into a scowl, made all the more terrifying by the unpredictable play of light and shadow over him. The Doctor wondered for a moment if perhaps they had overegged things a bit.

Then, Barley turned and ran from the room, pushing ponies out of the way as he broke for the door. “Grab him!” the Doctor cried. Some tried, but most were too stunned to move. Only the Chancellor pushed through the crowd and raced into the night, shouting at Barley's retreating tail. The sun set over the horizon.

The shadows seemed to heave and writhe in their corners, spilling over the light. There was a scream from one corner of the village, quickly echoed from everywhere the darkness fell. In his cell, the Doctor let out a wail of despair. They turned to the councilors standing outside, eyes like comets in their blazing cold fury. “You wouldn’t listen! You pompous bureaucratic fools! Too blind to see anything but your own warped values and twisted truths! How ironic it is that it took the darkness to get you to see at last. How pitiful.”

The assembled ran from the room, fleeing in a blind panic. All save for one. Smart Cookie looked solemnly at the Doctor. Then, raising a hoof, he broke the lock. “Run.” he said calmly. “Save yerselves.”

The Doctor blinked. “And as for you?”

“This town has always been my home,” he stated. “I will defend it.”

The Doctor smiled faintly. “Well done. Well done indeed, Smart Cookie. The stallion that could say more in two sentences than any other politician could in a week’s worth of speeches. Now, listen closely, because I have a plan. Yes, you too, Luna, Celestia. We’ve not much time, so listen carefully…”

Rise of Moon

The darkness moved like a shroud over the town, snuffing out the lights, obscuring the way, consuming anypony unfortunate enough to be caught in it. The screams were hideous, but very brief. In the center of it all, walking just ahead of the darkness, was Councillor Barley Corn, a wicked smirk on his face.

The Doctor had made a good point, in the end, even if it wasn’t the one they were trying to impress. Barley could not let anypony escape the darkness. Every citizen of this town had offended him at some point— not being quick enough to obey orders, lazing about, laughing at him behind his back, they wouldn’t be laughing long now, would they? Oh, no, not long at all.

He glared at the apparently smiling face of a skull, and smashed it to bits with a single kick. He resumed a sedate pace. There was no need to rush good work, after all.

***

The Doctor and his companions had rounded up every pony that they could in the center of town. They had all been relieved to see Chancellor Puddinghead among the survivors. “Bring your torches, candles, open flames if you’ve nothing else,” the Doctor ordered. “We need to turn this night into day if we’re to survive it!”

The remaining villagers stood in stark horror at the oncoming wall of— well— darkness wasn’t quite the word for it. Darkness was merely the absence of light. Darkness could be a comfort, a warm blanket. This seemed to absorb the light, blotting out the stars themselves, destroying light, heat, love, everything that entered it. The Doctor looked around nervously, but then felt a tug at their leg. Blinking in surprise, he looked down to see a little grey colt, his eyes wide and fearful. “‘Ast thou seen me mummy?” he asked, tears brimming at the corners of his eyes.

The Doctor paused. The gears in their head began to turn double time. They leaned down to look the colt in the eyes. “No, I’m afraid I haven’t,” they admitted. “Why don’t you ask my friends Luna and Celestia to help? I’m sure they’d be happy to look for her.”

Luna looked up at the sound of her name. “What?” she asked, confused.

“This foal is looking for his mother,” the Doctor said quietly. “She’s… gone missing.”

The unspoken assumption was as dark and heavy as the encroaching wall of death. Luna took in a deep breath and choked a small sob of horror. Just for a fraction of a second, the whites of her eyes were luminous. The Doctor looked on and nodded grimly. “Keep an eye on him,” they said. “I need to go speak with the councilor…”

***

As Barley Corn approached the well-lit town square, it was all he could do not to laugh. “Dost thou really think that will slow us down? Think thee it shall stop us? No, Doctor. Ye may as well give up now.”

The Doctor stared at him stoically. “You know, it's funny," they said calmly. "I never told you my name."

“...Eh?” Barley had not expected that.

“My name. It’s not Professor Query, though I told everypony in town that. So, how do you know to call me the Doctor?”

“I— eh— Professor, Doctor, no diff’rence—”

“I shall tell you how you knew,” the Doctor interrupted. “You know because that thing told you. You know because it’s gotten into your mind, become as much a part of you as you are, perhaps more so. It’s taken you over, Barley. Taken all your worst qualities, your anger, your hatred, your scheming, and amplified them one-hundredfold, all at the cost of— well. Everything else. Memories, personality, everything that makes you you.”

He scowled. "Don't be daft."

"Daft? I'm not the one making deals with demons. You, on the other hoof... well, I'm afraid that you made your penultimate mistake when you let the darkness in. It's consuming you from the inside, your heart, your mind, your very soul."

"Pah!"

The Doctor looked at him sadly. "Look at your cutie mark."

"Why should I?"

"Look at it."

Barley glanced back. He froze, transfixed. Where once the symbol of a sickle and a stalk of barley had adorned his flanks, all that remained was a patch of black, as though he'd sat in tar."

“No— no, it ain’t so— it cannae be!”

“Can't it? Tell me, Barley, what was your mother’s name? Your first kiss, when was it? What house did you live in as a child? When’s your birthday?”

“I— I—” the councilor sputtered, stricken. “I remember not. I don’t— “

Suddenly, his face twisted hideously, contorting into an expression beyond fear, beyond rage, the face of a pony drowning on dry land. And then it relaxed into an expression of cold, calculating malice. “Ah. I did hope thou would mention that not. Now I’ve had to do away with him as well.”

“You would have done so anyway,” the Doctor replied.

“True,” the thing in the councilor’s body agreed. “But I had been hoping to string him along a little while longer, you see. It’s much easier to exist in physical form with a template to follow.”

“Hm. You know, you seem to have the advantage of me. You know that I am the Doctor, but I don’t know what to call you.”

“Thou may address me as…” the councilor’s mouth flickered up for a moment, something it had never done in life. “The Nightmare.”

The Doctor nodded in resignation, as though some theory had, regrettably, been confirmed. “And you want— no, let me guess, everlasting darkness? An eternal playground for your reign of terror? Phrases ending in “will last forever”?”

“More or less,” it replied.

“I see. I hope you realize that I am going to have to stop you?”

“Thou may well try,” it said with a sneer.

"Oh, I'll do more than that," the Doctor promised. "You aren't the first monster I've faced, Nightmare, and you certainly won't be the last. I know you better than you think. I know what you want, what you're willing to do, what you fear."

"Curious. I might say the same to you." Screams rang out behind the Doctor, but they couldn't look away from the magnetic gaze of the Nightmare. "Daleks and Cybermen, Vampires, Racnoss, Yssgaroth, oh my. Even your own people. But deeper than that, the most fundamental fear of all, is--"

The Doctor tore their gaze away with a wild, animalistic scream and spun around, only to see that the fires in the square were beginning to go out, one by one. “NO! That should have bought more time!”

As they raced back toward the square, they were already well aware that they were too late to do anything more than hope. It was all in Luna's hooves, now.

***

Luna shrunk back from the oncoming darkness. She could see it as it absorbed ponies into it, mummifying them at a touch and dissolving the flesh from their bones as it absorbed them. A wave of resignation fell over her. Perhaps, after all this, it wouldn’t be so bad simply to succumb. She was in pain, and felt so terribly tired. Nopony here cared for her, save Celestia. Nopony outside the village would notice if she were to die. Suddenly, she felt a presence at her side. Looking down, she saw the colt that the Doctor had left in her care. “Miss Luna?” he looked terrified. “Is— is that— where’s my mummy?”

She couldn't answer. She choked on her words, which swirled like thick, bubbling tar in her throat. She looked around. Smart Cookie was picking up torches and hurling them at the darkness, only to see them extinguished as soon as they hit it. Celestia was desperately trying to manufacture a shield spell over a few villagers. Chancellor Puddinghead was talking to a group of foals. Luna watched them smile at the old stallion and put their hooves over their eyes, counting loudly. She saw him turn away, his face ashen.

She looked down. The foal was still looking up at her, past her. She looked up as well. The moon looked back down at her.

A surge of silver washed over her vision, lighting up the world. The low, aching burble of panic in her stomach turned into daggers that twisted at her organs. Perhaps she didn't matter. Perhaps the child didn't, either, or his mother. But how dare that shade destroy them? How dare that fiend steal away this foal’s mother? How dare it scare the children? How dare it destroy and desecrate the beauty of darkness?” It was only when she saw ponies staring at her that she realized that she had shouted her thoughts aloud. She also realized that she didn’t really care. She stormed forward. “Luna! What are ye doing?” her sister cried.

Luna didn’t listen. All that she could hear was the pumping of the blood in her veins, the ringing in her ears. Her limbs were shaking, not with fear or pain or cold, but with raw power, power that could shift the heavens themselves. Celestia moved to run after her, as quickly as she could on injured legs, but was stopped by the Doctor. “Let me go!” she cried, moving to punch the pegasus in the face..

“Look!” the Doctor whispered, pointing. Celestia stared along their line of sight, and her mouth fell open. Luna was surrounded by a corona of silver-blue light, bright as the stars and moon. No, surrounded wasn’t the word— she exuded it, her form flickering and fading into the light. The heavens themselves seemed to pale against her blinding brilliance. “Thou… shalt… not!” she roared, burning with fury. “Thou shalt trouble this populace no longer! I will be their protector on this night, and I cast thee out!”

The darkness flickered back, wounded. Luna continued forward, her teeth bared into a snarl. The nightmare winced and flinched back where the tendrils of light slashed it, burning away, and still she walked forward. Celestia looked at the Doctor, anger giving way to confusion which in turn gave way to something like comprehension. She pushed away from them, slowly following after her younger sister. She too began to glow with a soft, golden light, like the morning sky, or the hearth of a family home. The lights mingled and melded, glowing like an aurora. Unable to stand against it, the monster dissolved back into mere shadows, shrieking as it dissolved into nothing. There was no shadow for it to escape to, nowhere for it to take refuge. The stars twinkled overhead.

The Doctor smiled wanly. “I told you I knew what you were afraid of,” they murmured. “In the end, that's what every nightmare fears. Love. Light. The proof that the morning will come again.”

***

“And that is the story of how our two guests got their cutie marks,” the Doctor concluded. “The rest, as they say, is history. It didn't take much to convince Luna to travel with me, and of course that brought Celestia along as well. It was… tense for a bit, but as you can see, all’s well now.”

“All except for the time you made me be the monster bait,” Luna said drily.

“Hey, you caused the paradox, you have to help fix it,” the Doctor replied, mock scolding the alicorn.

Celestia laughed aloud. “I don’t remember you being so uptight when I was out baiting the jewel thieves on Bridleway, Lulu…”

The princess of the night merely sniffed and put her nose in the air.

“Wow, that’s some story,” Ditzy marvelled. “But, what happened afterwards?”

“Afterwards?” the Doctor mused. “Well. Nothing too exciting. You already know that the Chancellor and Smart Cookie had their own roles to play in Equestrian history. So did the Chancellor’s chief adviser, though we didn’t meet him that adventure. He’s a story for another day, I think.”

“What about the shadow-thing? How did you actually stop it?” Dinky asked. “I mean— you two were just kids, right? Where’d you get that kind of power?”

“Short answer, I weakened it by cutting its connection through Barley's mind, so it was using most of its power to just stay on the mortal plane. Even at that age, a pair of alicorns were more than strong enough to banish it. When they're powered up properly, there's not much that they can't burn away. It's just a matter of knowing how best to light the fire. Long answer? That’s another long story,” the Doctor said. “One that’ll keep for another evening. As for the Nightmare itself… well, it cropped up again. But that's a story you know well already.”

The Doctor and Celestia turned to look at Luna, who coughed and blushed slightly. “Wait.” said Dinky, “You turned into Nightmare Moon because you got possessed by that… whatever-it-was?”

“We just call it the Nightmare,” Celestia corrected. “And, yes, it was responsible for my sister’s corruption, as well as many others throughout history. Most did not survive.”

There was a long silence. Then Dinky said, in a small voice, “But… it’s gone now, right?”

“Oh, well, probably,” the Doctor replied, slipping back out of his serious voice. “I mean, Elements of Harmony… they don’t mess around, do they?”

“You know,” Celestia interjected, “I don’t believe we ever ate that lovely cake you were going to serve us that day. I suppose it’s gone now. What a pity.”

The Doctor paused, then gave her a wide grin. “Benefits of being a Time Lord? Food doesn’t have to go bad. The cake is still in the TARDIS, fresh as the day it was the day you first saw it.”

Celestia paused, her coffee halfway to her lips. Slowly, she turned to look at the Doctor, her eyes wide and questioning. “Really?”

At his nod, she let out a whoop and ran from the room, chanting as she went. “Cake, cake, cake, cake, cake, cake, cake…”

The Doctor laughed. “Ah, same old Celly. You lot go on ahead, I’ll tidy up in here before I come out.”

“I’ll help,” Luna said.

“Oh, no, we couldn’t possibly—” Ditzy began.

“We shall help,” Luna repeated, in a voice that hinted at a far more royal tone ready to be used once more.

Ditzy nodded slowly, not breaking eye contact with the princess. “...Right. Okay,” she said, trotting out of the room. “Come on, Dinky,”

Luna turned and levitated several teacups in her aura. If one looked closely at the magical lights, it might be possible to see in them reflections of alien moons and distant stars. “So,” she said, a faint smile on her face, “You’ve settled down at last. Shocking, really, when one thinks of all the proposals you refused. It was Princess Platinum, wasn’t it, who tried to have you executed for denying her? Which incarnation was that?”

“... Some future one, apparently.”

Luna paused, then went slightly pink. “Oops,” she said, her ears flattening against her head.

The Doctor laughed. “More things change, the more they stay the same, eh?” he sighed. “I remember the time when you accidentally told Commander Hurricane the outcome of a battle that wouldn’t happen until next week!”

The two old friends shared a chuckle at that. Then the Doctor frowned, seeing something in Luna’s expression. “What’s wrong?” he asked, looking concerned.

Luna blinked in surprise. “Wrong? Why should anything be wrong? I’m just happy to see you, old friend.”

“Don’t try to lie, Luna,” he sighed, setting down their stack of plates. “Just because I’m wearing a different face doesn’t mean I don’t remember every one of your tells.”

The alicorn huffed and stared into space for a long moment, carefully considering what she was about to say. “Do you believe it?” she asked, a tremor in her voice, “Truly?”

The Doctor frowned, perplexed. “Believe… what?”

“That the Nightmare has really been destroyed by the Elements. They were never meant to destroy. That was rather the point.”

The Doctor hesitated, but then shook his head. “I think when it was cast out of you, that would have destroyed it, or at least banished it for a time, regardless of the intentions behind the elements when they were wielded. With nowhere else to go, it would have just… dissolved. It needs something to cast a shadow, something to possess. Without that, it’s just an unpleasant piece of shade. It'll be a long chalk before we have to face it again.”

Luna stared into their eyes for a long moment, studying their depths closely. At length, she nodded, and, picking up the tableware in her magic once more, said merely, “I hope you are right, Doctor. For all of our sakes, I hope you are right…”

Author's Note

Next Time, on Doctor Whooves:

Black and Blue and Bloodied

She squinted suddenly, noticing something rather odd. That one star, there- was it growing? No, she realized, it was coming closer! A blazing ball of fire was falling from out of space, and it was coming straight for her! She crafted a protective bubble over herself and her immediate surroundings just as the object crashed into the ground.

“Now, if I were a whiny, upperclass twit, where would I want to go? Hm. Okay, think class. Think formality. Think like the velvet dandy. Where would they want to take Bessie?” He regarded the console for a long moment and sighed. “A party. Probably with wine and cheese tasting. Maybe croquet.” He shuddered.

Slowly, carefully, the prince reached out a hoof to tap the pony on the shoulder. He shrieked as the stallion fell to one side, revealing staring, unseeing eyes and a mouth that dribbled blood from one corner.

“You keep saying things like that and then going quiet,” the Doctor said. “So, either we can talk about it on your terms, or we can wait for a crucial moment where absolutely ev’rything is going to fail because of one critical bit o’ information I don’t know ‘cause you wouldn’t tell me.”
Blueblood stared at him, eyes lidded. “The second one.”

The Doctor hung limp now. His forehooves were tired, and he could feel his circulation being cut off. That was one of the few problems a bicardial system couldn’t solve. Cut off enough blood flow, and there’s not much either heart can do about it.

Any port in a storm, the prince supposed, even if you think that port might secretly be a murderer.