The Dark Apprentice

Princess Luna watched from on high.

Twilight and Pinkamena made a most curious coupling: enthusiasm and inexperience. Well suited to wrestling around on the floor, to eager experimentation, to sloppy kisses and hastened climaxes. Artless, but fun. And for now at least, Twilight Sparkle still had much to learn from artlessness.

Luna frowned as she watched her newly gifted Dark Apprentice. It was a tiny thing, a simple turn of the mouth that was so small as to barely be an expression at all. Luna had done too much living to let a single instant’s emotion ever truly overcome her, but still she frowned, a slight expression that carried an even slighter displeasure. Twilight was keeping a secret.

Not from Luna, of course. That would not be of any concern. No, Twilight was keeping her secret from Celestia. This, Luna knew, was Twilight’s right, but still it vexed her: Twilight’s faithfulness should have driven the mare to truth, but now it seemed to be doing the exact contrary. Did Twilight fear Celestia’s disapproval? Luna rolled her eyes. In this age, who didn’t? Twilight would keep her secret, of course. Luna had learned that secrets were like candy: children, in their naïveté, would always overindulge.

She let the shadows flow back into the pupils of her eyes and turned back to her Canterlot tower. Twilight’s progress in her current studies was satisfying, and they could be suspended for the moment. It was time Luna taught her some of the darker arts, and that would require more care and attention.

The surface of the tower was polished until it shone like tinted glass. With a thought and a gesture, Luna drew an ancient bookcase out of the reflected moonlight, standing it in the center of the tower. She strode toward it and passed her eyes over the spines of books that had not been read for a thousand years, and the last vestiges of her frown vanished. Twilight would learn. Oh, how she would learn.

And let Twilight Sparkle covet her secret. Luna would stay the course. Still, plans would need to be rewrought, actions taken. And Twilight would eventually have to tell the truth. Luna had learned that secrets were like medicine: a small amount could be the proper cure, but too much was a poison.

Gods, of course, were immune to poison. Luna would need to divert Celestia’s attention, and the attention of a god called for an appropriately scaled diversion. Ten dozen things came to mind, but Luna ignored them. A disaster or a matter of state would be superficial and obvious. She needed to crush the root of Celestia’s curiosity, which would call for influence.

Who could influence Celestia most? It had once been Luna herself, but now she played second to Twilight Sparkle. Her frown returned. Neither of them would serve. Third?

Mi Amore Cadenza. She would do. Luna had but to reach out and play her like a rook on a chessboard. Again the frown left Luna’s face, a change that was still barely noticeable. Twilight’s eventual confession would carry all the more weight. Luna had learned that secrets were like silences: their true power was in being broken. And this one would break.

Until then, however, the sky would continue to turn. Celestia would rule benevolently from Canterlot. Twilight would continue with both sets of lessons. Luna would lurk and spy and stay her course, regardless of any moral boundaries that got in her way.

She smiled at that final thought, an expression so faint it was barely an expression at all.

Morals, after all, were very much like secrets.