It started as an itching thought at the back of my mind. The feeling that something was different, something that I couldn't quite place. There was a sense that I was being spied upon.

No, not quite spied upon, that would imply some nefarious intention, but certainly watched in some manner nevertheless.

The feeling intensified over the weeks. I could not place a time exactly when it started, it could have been months before the changes added up to the moment of realization.

One day my sister had commented on the state of my wings.

“I see you have finally decided to civilize yourself sister” she had said with a wry smile. “your wings are looking wonderfully well kept”

For the life of me I could not remember preening in weeks, normally I gave them a reluctant once-over perhaps once every three or four days, nothing more.

I looked over my shoulder and spread my wings. They were utterly immaculate.

I had done that, had I not?

Other things happened too. Little differences here and there. My mane being done in different styles that I would not normally wear it, not the simple brushing to one side or the other, but styles I had no knowledge of or no previous interest in. A plait using the whole of my mane from the front all the way down to the back and held with a bow. Ringlets that curled to my jaw. Waves that fell down my back.

I felt certain that I had done it myself.

At the same time I was certain that I had not.

Usually I simply tie up my mane to keep it out of the way, and nothing more.

I had decided my paranoia was well placed so I started to write myself notes here and there. I kept a calendar for when I preened my wings. That calendar, to date, has no crosses. I kept a diary, but that gave me no further clues, so I wrote notes about the little things. The dress I intended to wear the next day for example. I left notes in my room of where I had placed things, innocuous things like teacups and books.

Some things moved, some things did not.

I was certain now that somepony was doing these things, for otherwise it could only be explained by madness on my part. That did not bear a thought.

I decided to experiment further in a more overt manner, to try and tempt my watcher to reveal themselves in some way. I had a chess board placed on the side table in the corner of my room and made the first move.

The next day I saw that a counter move had been made.

Further experimentation was necessary, for this could simply be the result of a particularly bold castle porter. The next day I waited until the evening before I made my move and locked the door to the outside, casting a privacy charm at the same time which would alert me of intruders. I wrote myself a note as a reminder.

The next morning after my bath and before the door was unlocked and my charm dispelled again I noticed that my watcher had made another move.

I resisted the temptation to rail at the violation of my privacy. I realised that my watcher was close and had the ability to either negate my powerful magic, not likely unless it was one of three other ponies, or they were in my chambers before the charm was cast and the doors locked.

This was a concerning thought.

Still I needed to confirm my hypothesis. The easiest way was to talk to the only pony who would have had both the magical power to negate my charm, and was close enough to do so without a stately visit. My sister being prone to bouts of 'pranking' denied making any such moves on my chess board.

I reeled at this, but kept my outward appearances calm and dismissed it as a maids mistake whilst dusting. Nothing more was mentioned on the matter.

And still the game progressed, my watcher was no competition to one such as I who had played the game for many years.

But the games continued, it was a way to confirm that my watcher was still present. Each day the pieces moved so each day I could experiment further.

Sadly, for a while the results of my experiments plateaued. No matter what I tried after this I had no results, the only thing I knew for certain was I was still being watched.

This was troublesome.

I moved on to experimenting with magic, dispelling magic to see if there was an invisibility spell. No such luck.

Neither was there any luck with any spying spells, nothing triggered them.

Nor was there any result to scrying.

Blank after blank. I was reaching the end of my tether and the temptation to consult my sister or Twilight Sparkle became nagging, though I did not wish to scare the watcher away. It had slowly become a game, one I was determined that I should win.

One day as I lay in my bed ready to sleep I instead decided to look where no other can look, in the dreamscape

It is difficult to explain to those unable to experience the dreamscape exactly what it is. How would you explain to a pony who was blind what it was to see? Or the deaf what it is to hear?. When I sleep I dream like any other, it is one of the reasons I sleep when all my little ponies are awake, so that I can guard their dreams in my trance when I am awake. This day though I resisted sleep and slowly moved myself to a trance. The dreamscape was clear, except for a wrongness. The feeling that there was something there that should not be. Or perhaps something that was not there that should have been. So I searched.

And I found something.

My first direct contact with my watcher was a confusing melange of sounds and colours as I passed beyond the veil of their dreams. There was no substance and no cohesion so I attempted to reach out and guide it to something akin to a lucid dream.

The blackness I got in response was infinite and harrowing, no dream had ever responded in such a manner.

I retreated, afraid, and chose instead to sleep.

I am ashamed to admit that the unending void had made me weary of visiting that dream again, if it was a dream at all. It took me several weeks to rally and make another attempt.

The moment I imposed my will upon the dream the void returned and I reeled once more. I awoke panting and sweating.

Again and again I tried, steeling myself and hoping I could pierce the darkness that greeted me, every time I recoiled and shrunk back in to myself.

But I was the Dream Weaver. The Mare of the Night. The realm of dreams is my domain, and I am its mistress.

I felt I was so very close to something.

Concerned at my lack of progress, this night I was to reveal myself to my watcher. The fear that I would scare them away without getting my answers was weighed against my wish to find out the truth.

I entered the dream-scape and oriented myself to the chaotic mass and entered.

I spread out my magic and attempted to crystallise the dream in to a platform that could be built upon instead of forcing lucidity. If my watcher could bring the dream I would be the plinth it was placed upon. The dream shuddered and washed away bringing darkness. I forced myself to show my mettle and hold firm. Then I allowed myself to manifest.

The dream flickered and shook but I held it in place, the dreamer would not awaken unless I permitted it to be so. After a moment or two the dream began to take shape and I was stood in my throne room, alone.

I looked for clues of my watcher but there was a frustrating lack of sound or presence.

“I am Princess Luna,” I said haughtily “reveal yourself!”

A few seconds passed as I looked around, then in the corner of my eye something began to appear. It was only for a moment before the dream almost shattered completely, but my willpower of iron kept it in place. Darkness greeted me again.

Once more the throne room appeared and once more it shattered as a shape began to resolve itself.

Most infuriating. Was my watcher experimenting with the dream? Was there a block of some kind in place stopping them from showing themselves to me? It was a hypothesis I wished to test.

Once more I was in the throne room.

“Stop!” I called to before they would have a chance to shatter the facade they had built upon the darkness again.

Were they prevented from speaking directly? How can you speak to somebody so?. Had they a magic that could prevent all from seeing them?

Hmm.

“Are you literate?” I called to the dreamer. Suddenly the floor before me became filled with lines and curves and dots. Utterly illegible to me, and unlike any script I have seen before. “Wait” I called out again. I took some time to inspect the supposed writing, but it was as indecipherable as a foals scribbles.

How vexing.

Although I felt that seeing the text before me was a further clue in some small way. Perhaps the dreamer was blocked from communicating directly? Was it the fact that the text was foreign that had allowed it to pass the block?, after all the writing meant nothing to me. Could this somehow be worked around in some way?.

I commited a small part of the text to memory and resolved to investigate futher.

Perhaps indirect communication was possible? The gnawing realization that my watcher was inflicted with a malady of sorts was pushing me to find a cure, but how? The victim of a charm gone wrong perhaps? Or a curse? No, nopony could be so callous.

“Can you...” I stopped and thought again, how was I to communicate with somepony who could not communicate. “show me the first time you came to me” I said after a moment.

The throne room blinked away and was replaced by a balcony, not my own but my sisters. I stood and watched as Tia looked over to the dream me, my own face looked back with a smile and a nod. The scene continued and my doppelgänger stood and drew in her magic, then pushed it over to the horizon and guiding the moon to its rest. The sun rose in response.

Little details sprung out at me and I took in as much as I could. The leaves on the trees were ready to fall, there was a chill in the air, there was no flowers in the gardens. It was clearly autumn.

I let out a gasp for it was currently the height of summer outside.

But my watcher had first come to my sister? Why not I? I held back on barking a jealous retort.

“You first sought my sister, for how long were you with her?” I chastised myself at the direct question, “wait” I thought a little longer “show the passing of the sun for the days you spent with her”

The sun crossed over the horizon once. A day?

“For how long have you been following me” I said with a frown.

Like a flash the sun began flicking across the horizon in a haze causing a dizzying strobe in the sky “Stop!” I called. Much longer seemed to be the answer. I thought again of the scene my watcher had shown me.

“Show me the passing of the seasons since you first came to me” I called out.

The gardens dashed from autumn to winter in a blink, snow covering the barren trees and the coniferous hedge maze and dusting the ground. Just as quickly the gardens cleared and the growth of spring let itself known with early flowers blooming and the sky brightening. Then the balmy summer heat beat down on me, trees were full and the garden looked alive, just as outside at the moment.

I had expected this to be the end but I gasped once more as the transition to autumn again was felt and the trees darkened. Winter again and spring again and finally summer once more.

Nearly two years?

Madness!

I became as silent as the stars. Had the dreamer been at my side the whole time?.

“Who did this to you!” I said in a firm voice with the promise of retribution. Then suddenly the dream shattered, in a panic I failed to hold it and awoke in a cold sweat.

“Stupid!” I chastised myself. I rose from the bed fully awake and began pacing. “Stupid, stupid, stupid!” I tapped my forehead with my knuckles each time I said the word. I left my bedroom and went to my writing desk. I pulled a blank parchment from the drawer and began writing down my findings to give structure to what was to be done and questions to be asked. I felt I knew now that there was a magical problem to be resolved. I huffed out a breath as I began to relax and the tension started to leave my shoulders and neck.

Perhaps now was not the time to be chasing ghosts.

I awoke later that day both frustrated and mightily aroused. The dreamscape was absent of my watcher so I had resigned myself to instead sleep and resolved to attempt communicating the following morn.

Perhaps my morning arousal would be a fine way to shift the weight that had settled on to my shoulders?.

I let out a sigh whilst stretching out my legs and curling my hips. I am the Princess of the Night and all that it entails after all, and finally some progress! A reward was definitely justified.

I rolled myself on to my back and brought my hands under my nightshirt, it was tangled and creased, but with a shimmy of my rear I lifted it to above my breasts and allowed my hands to wander my torso and to the cleft of my breasts. I rolled my hips again and felt my hard length brush against my abdomen.

I kept my eyes closed and allowed my hands to wander further, the eventual release was only the destination of course, the real fun was in the journey.

My hands moved to my breasts fully and I gently circled with my fingertips in a spiral to my nipples, once there I allowed myself a moment to build the tension before closing my fingers around the sensitive, and now fully erect, little buds of flesh.

I let out a delighted sighing moan as a tingling warmth spread from my chest to my genitals, I could feel waves of heat rolling down my torso to my penis and then further to my clitoris and the damp mouth of my vulva.

I pressed my hands fully, grasping firmly my breasts and kneading as a baker would. The warmth exploded and roiled through me, pulsing in time with the beat of my heart.

I took my left hand away from my breast and left the right grasping and flicking firmly in place. My left hand wandered and pressed down by my stomach and circled the base of my penis. There was a delightful tickling on my nethers. I enjoyed holding myself from touching and stroking to allow the pressure to build in my core. My hand travelled further to the inside of my thighs, which I spread in reaction. My hand circled and pinched at my inner thighs moving closer and closer to its goal.

I did not hold off for as long as I would normally, the burning heat spreading through my body demanded attention and relief. I moved to my lips in a quaking leap and pressed the palm of my hand to my mons. My hips rolled and my stomach shuddered as I ground my palm to my nether-lips, my hand was getting slick and hot with my feminine waters spreading along the valley of my sex, I then curled my hand upwards to gently cup my testicles for a moment. I took that time to take a few deep breaths and feel their weight in my hand.

I moved back down and traced my index finger from the bottom of the valley to the top in a languorous slow motion. My breath hitched as I reached the top and circled my clitoris. My penis throbbed mightily, stood tall and held off my stomach rigidly.

I circled more and pinched with my index and middle finger. My spine coiled like a snake as electric fire washed through my body. I gave it another pinch then pressed in to the little nub, circling and grinding. I was not long for this morning, every touch was electric, every stroke and pinch was burning.

I let out a cry as the pressure built and released.

At my peak I pressed two fingers in to my molten middle and palmed at my clitoris so that I could feel the pulsing of the muscles in my core, my penis throbbed and released silmutaneously. Shot after shot left me and lay upon my breasts as my core sent fire through my body.

I slumped and lay to luxuriate in the bliss of my release.

Today was sure to be a busy day after all.

I got up and went to the bathroom. The bath I had been running was almost full. Excellent timing.

After my bath I dried my fur with a spell and picked a brush from a side table. I left my mane and tail a little damp to make brushing easier. I went to my study wearing a light gown and sat on the stool.

I needed to write a letter so I plopped the brush down upon the desk, I would not reveal too much, perhaps dismiss it as a 'what would we do if?' scenario. If you give Twilight Sparkle something to research she can be most enthusiastic and I hoped she would have further insight that may expediate the resolution of my watchers ailment.

It took me several attempts to write something that I felt would not reveal too much or warrant questions from my sister. I still did not wish to have my watcher fear their questions.

Once the letter was finished I sent it away with a flick of my hand.

I stood and went to my bedroom to dress. I glanced in the mirror to ensure the reverse plait I had done was held correctly. I turned to the side and inspected. Unlike a normal plait which would hide the ridge of my mane, the reverse plait helped to pleasingly accentuate. I had tied it at the back of my head with a dark ribbon, the rest of it fell and was tied with two more ribbons to allow it to bunch slightly in between them, one was half way down and one more near the bottom.

I had tied up my tail in a similar manner. One dark ribbon at the top near my dock. One half way down and a final one mere inches from the base.

I picked up the pale blue dress I had picked out and got dressed.

Finally I shod my hooves with my silver shoes.

Not my usual look, but it would suffice.

I left my room and went about my day, satisfied that I finally felt I was making real progress.

Author's Note

Plinthess Luna