Gray Rock

by Dan_s Comments

Rating: mature
Tags: Human, Anthro, Nightmare Moon, Drama, Original Character, Random, Violence, Princess Celestia, Sex, Applejack, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark
Length: 26982

How does Equestria deal with someone with serious issues? Someone who is now Nightmare's prison.

The Gray Rock protocol is a means of dealing with a psychopath in your life. If someone forced to adopt this protocol came to Equestria could they separate pony behavior from the mistreatment they've suffered their whole life?
How would the Equestrians deal with a deeply damaged person who is the perfect prison for Nightmare?

Published 2019-04-01 23:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2019-04-01 23:00:01 UTC

2) Nightmare & Celestia

Nightmare & Celestia

DISCLAIMER: My Little Pony is the property of Hasbro, Inc.

Journal Entry Day 24

The sight of CeeTee a.k.a. Princess Celestia laughing so hard she fell down was worth all the effort of my little scheme. The fact that Nightmare also laughed her plot off about it was icing on the cake. Celestia has the power of life, death, freedom or imprisonment over me, but Nightmare is a permanent addition to my head. I have to keep both of them amused. Odd, my mother had the same power and the same requirement, but I don't resent either of the ponies as much as I do her. I'll have to think about why, beyond the possibility of having sex with them. I guess it's because it isn't constant. A chuckle here, a laugh there, and I don't have to get hurt for it to be amusing. Huh, not as hard as I thought it would be.

Nightmare Moon is a difficult case. I know she's supposed to be the ultimate evil of Equestria, but that's a kid show, and at an adult level Starlight's little utopia is light-years ahead of Nightmare Moon. But that's for another season.

It didn't help that my first encounter was with a bedraggled refugee, nor did it advance her case that I actually know about history and could use it. It's my mind she is in after all.

Physically she tried to be imposing, she's taller than me, which puts her a head and shoulders above other ponies. But, let's say you asked an artist who does Hello Kitty fanart to make a balloon for evil, anthro horse-porn. Then you put a really tight string around the balloon's waist. Everything above and below gets bulged out. No, not just those. I kid you not, her shoulders are a bit broader than mine, and I'm not a small guy, her waist is bigger than any of the Mane Six's, but only slightly, then her hips are as broad as her shoulders. I shudder at the thought of putting a tape measure around her, but the result would make most guys faint.

As for her costume, it's like she couldn't decide between Slave Leia and Darth Vader, and made a tryhard attempt at both. For non-players, tryhards try so hard they fail spectacularly. Her metal bikini and pickelhaube were trying for both sexy and intimidating, but she wound up being cuddly. I mean she's almost all soft curves. The only exceptions are the tip of her horn and the shark tooth on each side where most horses have the gap where the bit is placed, and the latter is pure tryhard, it's got nothing to bite against and she'd have to unhinge her jaw to bite anything with it.

Yeah, I know I'm going on, and sounding like a furry, but I'm still at the age where a weird cosplay aren't enough to put you off a hot female. Her initial foray into the Conquest of Gray Rock went poorly. I did what she least expected, for she is the master of nightmares, I sent her to where and when nightmares really grow.

"You dare stand before one you should be on your knees worshiping?" Nightmare shouted and laughed as we completed the transition. The jungle around us and the muddy dirt road were no clue to where we were.

"I think the Khmer Rouge will be more to your liking," I replied as I stepped off the road and into the jungle, my clothes and appearance changing to a South-East Asian peasant. I may have looked a bit more like a North Vietnamese, but we were all Communist Brothers, right? "You want a night that will last forever? You're about to get your wish."

The small band of kids my age and slightly younger walked into sight. It took only a few moments before the AK-clack could be heard and Nightmare discovered her powers did not make her bullet proof. Bullet-resistant yes, bullet proof no.

"I am your Queen! A God among Ponies!" she shouted over her shoulder as rounds spanged off her helmet or smacked her shield so they hit her like a red-hot marble. "Ouch! Cease your foolishness! I am - ow! Then DIE!"

Magic doesn't work on Earth, so whatever she was trying, it only drained her reserves. The near miss by an RPG had her running again.

"You!" a kid easily three years younger, but with a loaded machinegun, ordered, "Carry our ammunition!"

I nodded, picked up the satchels, and followed them into the jungle after Nightmare.

She's lucky they're so anti-tech, I thought as another two bands introduced Nightmare to the ancient human tactic of persistence hunting, A couple of radios and a map would have caught her by now.

The pursuit continued for another eighteen hours. More senior hunters arrived, and through the day and into the next night the hunt continued. Two attempts to ambush the hunters failed. Once with a point-blank hit with an RPG, which fortunately for Nightmare didn't have time to arm. The second taught her about overwatch with sniper teams. A sharpshooter with an old Lee-Enfield hit her in the throat. She was gagging as she ran away trailing curses.

Since I could actually sense her location, I ditched my masters and I found her holed up in a cave. "So, are you willing to learn how to survive?" I asked the equinoid.

"What will you do if I say yes?" she asked, only the glow of her eyes visible, "Return us to your mind and away from this imagining?"

"Hardly an imagining, this was how they dealt with people," I replied, "As for returning you to the anteroom, no. I will disguise you as I am disguised, then you can tell them you saw you in this cave, and they can carry on the fight."

"And how long will this continue if I refuse versus if I agree?" Nightmare asked as she walked towards the cave mouth and the moonlight. She looked the worse for wear, no longer an object of terror, but not yet an object of pity.

"The Vietnamese will invade in about two months, so if you want to hold out for that long, you can stay out here. Otherwise there's food and shelter in the village," I told her.

"Do as you wish," she sighed.

A few minutes later, two villagers caught up with the hunters and directed them to the cave. Tunnel Rats were sent for and we were sent back to the village to lead them to the hunting party.

"I look more like an ugly male than you do," Nightmare complained as we tramped through the jungle in the growing dawn.

"Be glad you do," I told her, "You would not enjoy your fate if you were pretty, female or both."

We were put on burial detail while other soldiers led the new hunters to the cave in the woods. I was digging the holes. Nightmare was filling them.

"What did they do to deserve this?" Nightmare asked during a break as the Red Guards verified our work. "Those women - you are right, an ugly male is preferable."

"They were the village's leaders, teachers, and monks from a local shrine. People who could think and excel, all high crimes to the new regime," I told her, "You wanted darkness to last forever, look around, this is what it looks like. The tyranny of the entitled and weak, anyone better must be guilty, and if guilty punished. 'Come the revolution, scores will be settled'. You expected you'd be on top, but those on top were killed first, even among the revolutionaries."

"You come from a very dark place," Nightmare said.

"What happens when people shovel their conscience into a hole and bury it," I told her, "The rest of the body follows?"

I am up early, as are the rest of the family, but they are going to do a family thing and with all the apples harvested they could give me some time off.

"What's the basket for?" I ask as a stocked picnic basket with a large blanket rolled through the handle is thrust into my hands.

Poor Applejack looks like she is going to have an aneurism, Applebloom just looks confused, but Big Mac and Granny smile knowingly. "Oh jist some treats for you and the lady," Granny explains, "Maybe you'll catch something, maybe you won't, but you'll have something to eat either way."

"Thank you. I hope you have good luck with your planning," I tell them as I leave. I planned to reach the Castle of the Pony Sisters just after sun up, and I am not all that worried about walking through the Everfree in the twilight. The essence of Nightmare can be sensed by the things here, and they flee.

CeeTee a.k.a. Celestia is calling my name as I approach the castle. "I'm here," I call back, and Nightmare withdraws, hiding all traces of herself within me, "The Apples wanted me to carry this, and it slowed me down a bit." I lift the basket as I walk over the plank bridge spanning the chasm.

"There's enough for your guards as well," I say and watch her start, "You couldn't have walked here ahead of me, so you've got a couple of pegasi and an air chariot stashed somewhere."

CeeTee nearly facepalms, but smiles instead. "Yes, you got me. So I assume you wanted to talk about things you didn't want anyone in Ponyville to hear about."

"A few, a couple of things that Nightmare mentioned about Princess Luna," I pause at Celestia's darkening expression, "Specifically, she's got a dream-based whipping going on, her darker impulses torturing her."

"I never mentioned that," Nightmare says.

I felt it through your connection to her, I tell her, literally true. I just wasn't going to tell her why I'd been looking for it. I.e., I saw that episode.

"I'll let Celestia know," Celestia says, "What else?"

"Not something she said, but something implied," I explain, "A way of defeating Nightmare without the Elements."

"No! You wouldn't! Traitor!" Nightmare silently shouts, and cringes at Celestia's eager expression.

"You have shown me the folly of my wish, at least in your own realm," Nightmare said as we returned to the anteroom, "But I am still Nightmare! There are terrors you little understand and will cringe in horror about!"

I had had just about all I could stand of 'me god of evil' out of this cartoon villain. It was time to test a theory about the universality of certain pony traits.

"Wha - wha ha ha stop! Wha wha I wha wha ha command ha ha wha ha ha you! Wha ah ha ha cease!"

Yes, like any other pony, Nightmare Moon was ticklish. She was already on the floor squirming, so I sat across her hips and caught her at the waist, under the arms, behind the knee, and missed catching a foot as she writhed. She was soon beyond having breath to talk, or coordination to defend, and I relentlessly bore in on the most sensitive spots. She was soon gasping between laughs. I could vaguely assume that some of the sounds were pleas for mercy. But I continued.

Celestia is trying to look horrified, with both hands covering her face, but she's trying too hard not to laugh herself for it to be believable.

"It gets worse," I explain.

"Please don't," Nightmare pleads.

It makes you less of a threat, I tell Nightmare, All part of the plan.

"Bastard," Nightmare says.

Yes, what's your point? I ask.

"She suddenly stopped laughing and started bucking her hips," I say, ignoring Celestia's gasp, "Not hard enough to throw me off, so I bore in and went after her most ticklish spots. When she slumped, no longer laughing, just panting, I thought I'd gone too far."

"What did she do?" Celestia is also not laughing, she's asking with deadly seriousness, "What did she do?"

"I slipped off of her and picked her up, so she was sitting facing me," I say, "Then she wrapped herself around me: arms, wings, legs, mane and tail, and starts sobbing as if her heart was breaking."

Celestia stares at me as if I'd gone mad.

"I got out of her later that I'd shown where her philosophy led, then had her completely at my mercy and I didn't kill or abuse her. She expected rape and murder sequentially or interspersed, that's what her philosophy predicted, no, demanded. She wasn't expecting a soft domination, 'I can beat you, but I'll do it in a way that doesn't hurt or kill you.' It shocked her out of her mind," I explain.

"Piss on you," Nightmare says.

Oh, I'll stick the knife in, I think back at her, Just watch.

"I think the other lesson," I say, interrupting both's reply, "Is what you'll have to tell Celestia: that Luna was jealous, not as if the mob praised her sister and not her, but that the mob stole her sister's affection from her. The mob became Celestia's new lover, and she no longer had time for her BFF."

Nightmare giggles at Celestia's expression, which does kind of look like I stabbed her.

"I know Princess Celestia and Princess Luna have their hauteur and their duties. But if Celestia doesn't make time for Luna, the Elements won't save her next time," I tell Celestia, who suddenly looks around guiltily, "And it won't save Princess Celestia either."

"Excuse me a moment, I have to check in with the troops," she says as she gets up and practically sprints away.

How can she not see that you know she's Princess Celestia? Nightmare asks, among her other grumbling.

Because she knows I only see Celestia disguising herself, not Princess Celestia, I think in reply.

"Discord is going to canonize you," Nightmare tells me.

That adds another curlicue to my evil plan, but I'll let it simmer. Speaking of simmering I have located an old firepit, and I collect some branches and a bit of tinder. I'm no expert woodsman, but Granny packed a few strike-anywhere matches in a tight-fitting metal container. I soon have a small fire going. I lay the blanket where I can cast into the river, and watch the fire pit.

Why would she want me so well equipped for a date with Princess Celestia? I wonder, I thought she was pushing me and Applejack together.

"I hope you're all okay with me disappearing all of tomorrow," I told the Apples as I arrived back at the house, "Clear Brook's boss wants to do an in-depth interview."

" 'Clear Brook's boss'?" Applejack began.

"What's she look like?" Big Mac interrupted his sister, an event so rare she's stunned by it.

I never said it was a she, I thought.

"Very tall Earth Pony, pink mane and tail, blue eyes," I said.

"Cutie mark," Granny scolds, "The cutie mark is the first thing."

"Sorry, I never saw it, she was wearing a skirt the whole time," I said.

"She's from Canterlot," Granny said.

"How tall?" Applebloom asked.

"Taller than Big Mac or me," I answered, "I saw that when she ran out, she seemed kind of upset about me explaining that the mare Celestia doesn't want to hurt me, but the Princess must protect the people, maybe from me, and that I was kind of okay with that."

"You're okay with getting sent to Tartarus?" Applebloom asked, "And aren't Celestia and Princess Celestia the same pony?"

I kneel down so I'm face to face with the younger pony. "Humans can put their thoughts in mental boxes. They call it compartmentalizing. So as me, a kid, I can want to run and play all day; but as someone who's responsible, I can see the work needs to get done; and as someone who looks to the future, I can want to 'waste time' trying to see if Rock Farming works."

Applebloom crosses her eyes at that.

"It's the reason Nightmare wasn't able to take me over. She got into a big hall full of closets, where with Luna the big hall was all there was. And I took her into a closet filled with things worse than she'd ever imagined," I told Applebloom as I stood up.

"Worse?" Big Mac asked.

"Do you really want to hear?" I asked and glanced down at 'Bloom.

"Nope," Big Mac said, with a glance that meant 'later when we're applebucking'.

"Well I'm no scardy pony!" Applebloom declared.

Granny gave a slight nod.

That one action gave me a bigger feeling of belonging than anything else had. Granny was trusting me to give Applebloom an important lesson.

"Okay, you know how they're always after you to brush your teeth?" I asked.

Applebloom frowned and nodded. Applejack's and Big Mac's perplexed expressions showed they were lost too.

"Well, if you don't that stuff builds up on your teeth, enough you can scratch it off," I said and waited for Applebloom to nod, "Well, it's not all food. Some of it are bacteria. So imagine instead of having something gross to look at, you thought of having a mouth full of critters pissing all over your teeth?"

Applebloom's eyes went wide and her hair bow stood straight up. " 'scuse me!" She rushed off to the bathroom, likely not to vomit, but to do a proper job of brushing her teeth.

Applejack and Big Mac both looked disgusted, but Granny smiled and nodded. I'd passed her test, and I felt pretty good about that.

I take up one of the fishing poles CeeTee brought, and bait it with a bit of sliced up parasprite. My cast is adequate, so I back up onto the blanket and I just move my line along the water.

"You're doing it wrong," Nightmare tells me.

Do you know how to do it right? I wonder. Nightmare is suspiciously silent.

Celestia returns looking rather more chipper than she had been.

"Sorry for ruining your mascara, but I don't think Celestia will beat you too hard for telling her those things," I say as I keep my eyes on the water, and the bobber on the line.

"Clonk," Nightmare says, referencing Celestia's jaw drop, although I do glance over to verify it wasn't Celestia falling over.

"It's a joke," I tell them, "Mark number two on my list of things I failed at today."

"I'm not used to people being so forthright," Celestia says, "Considering what you have to lose, if the crown became displeased, you seem to have more faith in Princess Celestia's clemency than others who've known her longer."

Wait'll you hit Lesson Zero, I stifle my voice and thoughts where Nightmare can't hear.

"If she wanted me dead or imprisoned, I'd be dead or imprisoned," I tell her, "A day working or relaxing with friends is undeniable proof of her mercy. Not many can say the same."

"A grim way to look at it," she says as she baits the other pole with parasprite and casts it expertly.

"Okay enough grim talk for a bit, or you'll run off again, and I'm getting tired of trying to think and talk like a 30-year-old. Question from the horny teenager, why are all of you so hot? There are girls in my school who'd do anything to look like one of the Bearers."

Except diet and exercise, I silently add, which has Nightmare snickering.

"Clear Brook is a gray-haired grandmother, and she's better than most women I saw in my neighborhood or on television," I say, "A few swimsuit models would rival the bearers. But even the guys are good looking. That was what convinced me something else was going on with the Bearers: there are lots of better-looking guys around here."

Celestia gives a snort. "You're not exactly chopped hay you know. And what about the heads and faces." She leans close to let me get a good look at hers.

"It's alien, but still beautiful," I say and get a good look at her blush. "An artist came up with an idea called the Uncanny Valley, as something humanoid looks more and more human, its acceptability grows. Then suddenly, it drops off sharply, it becomes more human, but becomes more repulsive. Until it bottoms out, then sharply climbs again. He theorized that when something enters the Uncanny Valley we stop seeing it as something that's trying to be human, and see it as an animated corpse or something, until it's out of the valley and it's trying to be human again."

"So we're alien enough to avoid the Uncanny Valley?" Celestia asks, she's intrigued by the concept, and the discussion, "And you're sounding like a 30-year-old again. Or should I expect you to seduce me?"

That gets a blush out of me, a tent in my pants, and gut-busting laughter from Nightmare. Then Celestia joins in as she realizes just how much she flustered me.

With the seventeen-year-old overwhelmed by hormones, the thirty-year-old switches back to safe topics. "I'd never mistake any pony for a human if I could see them, but you don't trigger the uncanny valley," I reply, managing not to stammer.

Her reply is interrupted by the rod nearly flying out of her hands. Nightmare projects a brief image of me and Celestia diving for it and her landing on top of me. Then Nightmare laughing her ass off as I blush at the thought. I'll admit here, and remember to append a note in my other journal that I'm getting a crush on CeeTee. My actual reasons are she's still gorgeous, and besides the Apples, she's the only one who treats me as a person, rather than a ticking time bomb, or a lust object.

I watch her reel in the fish, a large bass, if bass here look like the bulldog-looking fish back home. Hey trout come to a point, bass look like a bulldog. Most fish I've seen are on fishing shows or wrapped in plastic at the store. Celestia not only lands it, but gets the hook out, guts and filets it without pausing. From her expression she's not pleased by the work, but is determined to 'do a nasty job well'.

"Thank you," I say as she finishes, "Can you teach me to do that?"

"You came to fish and didn't know how?" she asks. Her incredulous expression becoming a grin.

"I never expected to catch anything," I admit.

"Then why sit out here?" she asks.

I set the fish on a stick over the fire to cook. I lay back on the blanket. "Just to decompress, to get some time away from all my normal concerns here and just think," I say, then raise up on an elbow to watch Celestia watching me while lying on her side on the blanket. "I like most of the ponies, even the ones like Rainbow and Pinkie who scare me. It's just that sometimes their attitude just builds up a little too much and I need to get away. They're so sure of things, and so ill-prepared for bad things to happen, I sometimes want to scream. Big Mac was so sure he could move something, when Applejack and I were just a couple minutes away, so he got hurt because he thought 'oh I can do this, I don't need help', for a culture that talks about friendship, they are ashamed about asking for help. And don't ask about bullying. If I let Nightmare out to do what she'd want to do to the ponies bullying Applebloom, I'd get thrown in the statue garden in a heartbeat, and that's less than what I'd want to do of my own free will. The last time I got bullied that way, I stomped the crap out of the bully, and the bullying stopped, not just that day, not just that bully, but through two, other schools. But here, nopony cares. Standing up for yourself is a greater crime than terrorizing someone weaker."

Celestia is clearly not happy with the revelation. Strangely, Nightmare doesn't want to see the footage of the bully-stomp.

"So I just accept that is the culture, and say nothing," I say, "I don't know if that's the legacy of the Three Kingdoms and the Windingos, or something else, but it bothers me."

"So why don't you change it?" Celestia asks.

"I'm the host of Nightmare Moon," I reply, "Anything I say is tainted, and I haven't earned the trust of enough ponies to overcome that. They have a zebra who comes into town to buy supplies and the place locks up tight, and that's a fellow equine. If I start talking about standing up for myself, they'll think Nightmare has taken over."

I want to mention Starlight's little paradise, but I'm going to wait on that until I can find it and report it to the authorities. I sit up and turn the fish, it's nearly done.

"You don't think much of ponies, or their ruler," Celestia says.

"My people are predators, omnivores. In my world horses occasionally eat meat, here, they would get freaked out if they knew I was eating what I catch," I say, "Different world, different rules. If they've had the same rules for a thousand years, maybe they like them."

Celestia lays back on the blanket looking pensive while I check on the fish.

Applejack was sweating bullets as Pinkie Pie stormed around looking for Gray Rock.

"You forgot to invite him, didn't you?" Rarity asked as she stood up to Pinkie's towering rage.

Applejack started sweating worse as Pinkie marched over to her. "You gave him the invitation, right?" Pinkie asked.

"Yes," Applejack said. Silently awaiting the question of whether Gray Rock opened it after finding out it was from Pinkie Pie.

"THEN WHERE IS HE?" the flaming, pink head thundered.

"Havin' a picnic with Princess Celestia," Applejack said, and hung her head.

"DIDN'T HE READ THE INVITATION?" Pinkie demanded, not noticing a lot of ponies were exiting.

"After he asked if it were an apology, he set it aside, maybe he'll read it later," Applejack said and tried a smile, "I'm sure he'll feel bad about missing your party." She dropped the smile when she saw it was having the opposite effect.

"Wait, he's having a picnic with Celestia?" Twilight asked.

"She disguised herself as an Earth Pony, but it's her," Applejack said, ignoring Pinkie sounding like a runaway engine, "And she supposedly needed to talk to him about - stuff, he probably doesn't even know it's the Princess, y'all know how clueless he can be."

"On the day of his Welcome to Ponyville Party?" Pinkie shouted.

Applejack and Twilight looked to Rarity, Fluttershy and Rainbow, everypony else had made a hasty exit.

"If Celestia needed to talk with him, then it has to be important," Twilight said she looked back to Pinkie, "I'm sorry Pinkie, but I'm afraid he made the right choice."

The Pink Rocket exploded out of the building and out of town.

"Should I go after her?" Rainbow asked between bites of ice-cream-covered cake.

"Can even you catch her when she's like this?" Rarity asked.

Rainbow finished her cupcake and laughed nervously. "Maybe she'll cool down by the time she finds him. After all, she doesn't know where to look. Right?"

The other mares looked at each other nervously.

"Why would he want to know if it was an apology letter?" Fluttershy asked as she glanced among her friends.

Now they looked worried.

CeeTee had excused herself when a scroll flashed into existence and practically dropped in her lap. I had yelled after her that I had a roll of proper paper if she needed it. With her gone, I ate the fish that she'd caught and I cooked.

I finished with disaster approaching. The pink blur looks like a special effect for some warp or hyperspace ship appearing. There's a kind of picture that you cut it in half and you loose resolution rather than the whole picture, Pinkie's appearance looks like that, she starts blurry then gets clearer.

Before she's all there, she's screaming at me, "You didn't read the invitation!"

"An invitation," I reply, not a question, a statement. I am not going to give her an argument, but I am going to draw this out. Long enough for CeeTee to get back. Pinkie is shouting loud enough that I've no doubt that she's hearing this. Heck, Zecora is probably hearing it.

"I give you an invitation to a party you show up, bucko!" she shouts, poking me in the chest for emphasis. CeeTee is charging back, Pinkie's shout and the echos disguising her footfalls.

"Why?" I ask. Nightmare has fled, an angry Pinkie Pie is not a force she wishes to face. I don't look at Celestia but concentrate on Pinkie.

"Because you were invited!" she replies.

"So Princess Celestia has been overthrown and you now command?" I ask, "Because that sound like an order, not an invitation."

"It's impolite!" Pinkie says, poking me again.

"As impolite as ordering me to attend after I've asked you not to?" I ask, I quickly recognize that I'm falling into my old habit of directing one female's anger at another female, something I need to stop doing here. Instead I need to refute her points, "Impolite, have I ever refused to help you set up or tear down? I even told you I didn't want to attend parties. How is it impolite that I'm willing to work with you, but want to spend my fun time my own way?"

"You got an invitation!" she reminds me.

"So an invitation is an order? I have to forget what I want to do and do as you command?" I ask, struggling to keep my voice level. This 'your time is mine' attitude infuriated me with my half-sisters, who weren't putting food on the table and clothes on my back, because whenever I needed something, I got ignored.

Her reply is preempted by a whipcrack tone, "Pinkamena Diane Pie!"

Pinkie cringes as she remembers who I am having a day off with.

"Gray Rock, go talk to the guards," CeeTee orders, "Pinkamena Diane Pie and I have something to discuss, about treating friends properly."

I practically run to the door Celestia has been coming and going through. Balustrade and a stallion I'm not supposed to recognize as Shinging Armor awaits me, along with a smaller, pink alicorn, none other than Cadence.

"Are you Rarity's brother?" I ask, "I know that colors don't run in families but the similarities are too close."

The guard frowns while the alicorn chuckles. "Captain Shining Armor," she explains, "Twilight Sparkle's brother."

I stare. "Brother, I could have sworn she was an only child. I understand not wanting to talk about family, I'd be horrified if mine showed up. I'll have to ask Applejack about when she talked about you."

"She probably hasn't, not with you to study," Shining Armor says and frowns, "You have certainly stirred up a hornet's nest."

"I don't like parties, I never have and never will," I say, and glance around, "Can you all keep a secret? Even from the Princesses?"

The trio look around nervously. "I am a princess," Cadence says, "But I keep a few confidences from Princesses Luna and Celestia."

"Okay, I know that's Princess Celestia, I also know she enjoys playing at being 'just an ordinary functionary', Nightmare told me when I saw her, and Nightmare hasn't lied to me yet. Although if she and Celestia got into a two-way race and Nightmare lost, she'd tell me she came in second and Celestia came in next to last."

Balustrade and Armor both snort at that.

Cadence gets a concerned look on her face. "You care for Nightmare, don't you?"

"Have you ever had a friend who always gets into trouble, but they still stick by you no matter what?" I ask, getting uncomfortable recognition from all of them, "Nightmare's like that. She's suggested a dozen ways I could take over Equestria, and backs off the moment I suggest all the paperwork involved in actually running the place."

Cadence facepalms while the two stallions snicker.

"Don't laugh, if someone forces Celestia off the throne, I could go through them to put her back on within a few days," I tell them.

The stallions sober up, but Cadence laughs, "Maybe a few days, so she could spend some time with Luna."

"Okay, toss her off, then reconquer Nightmare in time to put her back. That might appeal to Nightmare's rather macabre sense of humor. She'll suggest how fun it will be watching a pony basically self-destruct long before I see any signs, which let's me intervene," I say, "And there are times when I'll let the joke run."

Nightmare screamed in agony as her belly distended farther. Gray Rock laughed as he rammed her up the ass again. "Take it you bitch! Yell, scream, cry! There's no one to hear you and no one to save you from getting filled with spunk like an old balloon!"

Nightmare's screams became a gurgling cry as Gray Rock's back arched as he hauled back on her mane, ignoring the tail slapping at him and Nightmare trying to crawl forward.

"Stop this, I command ye!" a teenaged Luna charged into the dreamscape, "Nightmare's crimes do not warrent such -!"

Nightmare and Gray Rock exploding into a sickly-yellow goo covered most of Luna in the foul-smelling filth. Luna's facial contortions showed she'd gotten some goo in her mouth.

Nightmare's laughter at the alicorn's plight ceased as Gray Rock's voice cut through, "Nightmare!"

The dark force fled as the human approached. He sighed as he approached Luna and tried to wave away the smell. "I'm afraid you're going to be stuck like that until it's washed off," Gray Rock told her.

"It resists my powers," the horrified alicorn told him.

"Yeah, it's got Schmooze goo as an ingredient, and any soap and water strong enough to cut it will burn your skin so badly the fur will all fall out," he told her and lifted a bucket labeled 'Baby Oil', "First, it's named after its user, not its ingredient. Second, oil will dissolve that stuff, and this washes away with soap and water." He set the bucket down.

"How will that help?" Luna asked.

"We rub this into your fur, scrape it off with a strigil, rub in a second go and then you take a bath," he said and raised one of the two similar implements he held. It looked like a modified straight razor.

"We can do that ourselves," Luna told him, "Thou shan't watch us bathe."

"Your business, your funeral, but get everywhere, that stuff will cling like snot and it's slipperier than the finest axle grease," he said before marching off.

"She called you back, didn't she?" Clear Brook asks.

I nod. "After she tried to swear me to silence, I agreed to a seven-day moratorium," I tell the group, "Keeping secrets, any secrets involving Nightmare will get me in the neck, so I gave her a week to deal with her end."

Everyone turns as CeeTee arrives, the poor mare looks like she'd been fighting a war, and losing. Pinkie is nowhere to be seen. "I withdraw my previous question," CeeTee says, her question about me having to get away from ponies.

She straightens up and looks at me sadly. "I'm afraid you'll need to spend a week or two in Canterlot," she says, "There are things we need to know, and Ponyville and the Bearers are not conducive to finding them out without driving you over the edge."

I nod. "I'd like to say goodbye to the Apples," I tell her, "They've all been universally decent."

"I'll have a letter delivered," she says, "Princess Cadence, we need to return to Canterlot. I'll brief the Princesses."

Cadence nods. "Of course."

Cadence's horn glows, and the world and ponies wink out. After a few moments of it not winking back in my concerns grow, since CeeTee and Cadence seem to not be wherever I am.

"Hello?" I call, "Nightmare, are you around?"

"Nothing's wrong, it's just that ponies don't perceive the moment of teleportation the way you and I do."

"So, how long will this trip take?" I ask.

"Conjure a table, I'll get a deck of cards and I'll teach you how to play Horns, Wings and Hooves," she tells me.

I have a feeling the instantaneous transport is going to take a long time.

I wake in my cell, it's 3 feet wide, some 7 feet long and 2 feet high. The bedding within and warm blankets make it not uncomfortable to sleep in. The top, bottom and three sides are solid wood, small air holes bored in the top, with the last side a thick section of glass with no gaps or holes.

What is worrying is Princess Celestia, Captain Shining Armor, and a gray-bearded pony I don't recognize all affixing their own locks, each with very different keys, to the hasps holding the top to the wooden sides. They slide the cell back on rollers like a drawer, and a heavy bar is affixed before the glass face, preventing someone from pulling out the drawer to access the top locks.

They walk away without saying anything, and I remember I have said nothing to them in the two weeks I've been in this situation. Celestia was originally quite miffed at the silent treatment and sent me to bed without supper. My refusal to eat or drink anything for the next two days put her in a bit of a state, so she had to accept that while I was a prisoner, I would act like one.

The bedding is clean, I've been able to wash before I was brought here, if not for the locks it might be a comfortable abode. But bars and lock may not make a cage, they're a good approximation.

It's morning before I'm aware I've slept. The routine remains the same. Food, shit, dress and work. I've been building a stone wall near the statue gardens. A safety wall to prevent others from falling over the edge. Though me falling over the edge, or jumping seems to be of little concern. The guards are armed with nets and blunted tridents, weapons better suited for trapping a target rather than to harm or kill. They are arrayed to keep me from breaking past them to get at the pony population. No preventative steps have been taken to keep me from leaping over the edge to my death. Likewise, neither they nor I speak to the other.

I have a water bottle, which when empty, I would put off to the side and step away. The guards would replace the bottle with a prefilled one and refill the empty container. Only after they have moved away can I retrieve the bottle. At the end of an 18-hour workday, I am allowed to bathe, then I'm returned to my cell and locked in for the night.

Sleep comes quickly after the wearing day.

I wake in the four-poster bed with curtains around it, as I have been waking for the past few days. Again, the first time I've done this, but the surety remains I've been doing this again and again. Not deja vu, but remembering bland details that I haven't experienced.

Another dream, I think, I must have royally pissed off Princess Luna, but this hardly seems like her style of Nightmare.

The light from the windows leaks in through the few gaps in the curtains. I sit up and pull the curtains aside, letting the light pour in painfully. I glanced around the kidney-bean shaped room, and up at the odd ceiling. It was 20 feet near the inner wall, and some 40 feet near the windows. The windows started some 10 feet above the floor, and without a means of climbing up to look out I wasn't sure where in Canterlot I was. I vaguely remember spending several fruitless hours trying to climb up, and failing. Although the details are sketchy to barely remembered.

Like the drawer scenario, I don't feel Nightmare. The overall impression of surreality/surrealness nags at me. I dress and leave the room. There are no guards, no passers by, and no other ponies in sight despite the wide avenues and large windows.

The sound of galloping hooves sounds and I take cover behind an empty suit of armor. The sheathed sword is either cast as a piece with the armor or welded in place. I relax a little when I see Princess Celestia, with full regalia, looking around.

"Your Highness." I bow as I step out, but step back when she approaches.

"Gray Rock, it's me, I'm real," she tells me.

"With respect," I say and gesture around, "This is a nightmare, so anything in it can be in service to that end. And as for telling me something to prove you are whom you appear to be, my subconscious could access anything I know."

"So there's no way to prove I mean you no harm?" she sounds unhappy about that.

"Not until I wake up," I say, "No offense your Highness, but Princess Luna still thinks she owes me a bad turn for Nightmare's prank. And dream walking is not your strong suit, so I am going to keep my distance and my paranoia."

"I only wanted to assure you this is necessary, isolating you from Nightmare," Celestia says.

"Is she taking it better than I am?" I ask.

"You have been alone or with limited interaction for eight weeks, she cracked after two days," Celestia says, "In the real world, we noted you materialized a full three minutes after the teleport."

"It took two months to arrive at the drawer, Nightmare and I were alone that entire time," I tell her, "Next time, I'll take the train."

"Since I can't prove I am who I say I am, and am safe, is there something you don't know you wish to know about?" Princess Celestia asks.

"As a matter of fact," I say, ignoring her squawk as I throw open the window and step through.

While I arrive standing in the statue garden, she was leaping at me, and face plants some feet away from me. I help her up. I note that she does not let go of my hand. "I don't wish to die, but this is part of the dream and warps what's around it," I tell her as we stand before Discord's statue, "I couldn't have managed that for any other statue."

"Surely Nightmare would have mentioned Discord," Princess Celestia says, her thumb brushing over the back of my hand.

"Mentioned Discord the Draconequus, she did, describe him, she did not," I say.

"Why are you doing that weird voice?" Celestia asks.

"Old custom when spouting useless platitudes," I reply and step closer to the statue, Celestia tried to stay where she is and keep a grip on my hand, "So, that is the champion that destiny has decreed I must slay in mortal combat." The cheesy echo helps the effect. So when I turn to look at her, Celestia is facepalming. With her other hand she's still holding my hand.

"Somehow, I get the impression that deploying you against Discord would be an excellent, or terrible idea," Celestia says, then pulls back, pulling me with her, "I think you aren't the right tool to use against him."

"You aren't going to take him unawares as you did the first time. And I don't think ignoring him will work, as there's no alternative for him to go to," I say as I conjure a blanket and the two of us sit on it among the grass in the sunshine.

Celestia removes her regalia, then her horn and wings. "Just CeeTee now," she says, and braces for the explosion.

"I knew, you keep forgetting that Nightmare promised to help me. Letting me miss that CeeTee was Celestia doesn't count as 'helping', and Celestia isn't Princess Celestia," I say, "Of course I told Shining Armor, Princess Cadence, Clear Brook and Balustrade that I know, but I'll let you decide if you want them to know you know I know or that you know they know or that I know you know they know I know. Think of the practical jokes you can spawn." When she grins, I add, "I'm not the only one with darkness flowing about in my head, I'm just the one who isn't guilty about it."

She sticks out her tongue at me. "So, you planning to overthrow me?" she asks.

"Or put you back on the throne," I say, "I can imagine it without the least intention of doing it. I can imagine all manner of things I wouldn't do in a million years."

"But you used those imaginings against Nightmare," Celestia as CeeTee says.

"I used one against Nightmare. And I didn't use any of the others: Vlad the Impaler, Joseph Stalin, Chairman Mao, the Imperial Japanese camp at Harbin, Emperor Caligula, or all of the inventive ways people have corrected the behavior of those around them, even if it killed them," I say, "I studied my people's history. While we had great triumph, we had great darkness. We would never have abandoned our home continent like ponies did, or after over a thousand years with the Undying Sun as our ruler, we would have reconquered it. Our sin is pride. We think we can do anything. Your people's is accepting their place and going crazy when that place is threatened or lost completely. There's probably a special word for believing your observation of reality trumps objective reality, but trust me I've seen that in my people too. My mother and half-sisters lived it. My sin was pride, I had a plan to escape and had worked it in secret for years. I also assumed I was putting one over on my mother and half-sisters."

"You seem very insistent on the terminology," Celestia says, a hint of the Princess peeking out. She still hasn't released my hand.

"A bit of my own revenge against my treatment, a very formal and correct way of calling them. Mom, ma, sister and sis are all friendly and familiar, mother and half-sister are clinical and cold. They are blood relations, they aren't my family," I say, then glance down and loosen my grip, "Sorry, it's a very sore spot."

"I've fought in battles, a tight hand clasp isn't going to break me," she says, "What about Nightmare, and the Apples?"

Now I flop back on the blanket. "Nightmare . . . I guess I've always been treated so badly, that I don't mind her little digs, especially when they protect me or let me help others. I just assume she doesn't mean them, it's just her way. The Apples, they are a family. They trusted me, but I'll never be one of them, unless I marry Applejack."

Celestia giggles at that.

"But they treated me better than my mother and half-sisters ever did," I say, "I don't mine expecting to work hard and show loyalty, but when there's repocity."

"Reciprocity," Celestia says, "Give and take equally."

"Yeah, I want to be part of that," I say and close my eyes, feeling extraordinarily tired.

She lays down on her stomach, resting her chin on her folded arm and covers me with a restored wing. "Then rest, Luna will not approve, but I'm afraid I'll have to let you prove your good intentions."

"In battle no doubt," I say and close my eyes as she snuggles up against me.

4) Bushel of Apples

Bushel of Apples

DISCLAIMER: My Little Pony is the property of Hasbro, Inc.

Journal Entry Day 43

I'm going back to Ponyville. Huzzah and rapture. The tests have completed and I've been found to be mostly harmless. The sovereigns had decided I should return to Ponyville and Princess Luna had waited until Celestia left before telling me point blank I was to 'report to Ponyville expeditiously.'

Nothing more fun than following orders to the letter. It's called Malicious Compliance. So I didn't wait for Clear Brook and Balustrade to catch up, get word of our return, finish visiting their colleagues/family or collect their things. I left. I had the voucher from the major domo and was on the train and heading out before the sun went down. Just short of Ponyville proper there's a stop by a water tower and coaling station. I got off there and as the last twilight faded, marched overland to a little building that was the Ponyville jail, before the larger guard station and stockade were built. Since I knew the stockade was unmanned/unponied? ([sic] but Fast Link, the caretaker at the old jail was still there, that's where I reported.

The old, gray pegasus stallion stared through his bushy eyebrows at me standing there in a prisoner's orange and green-striped shirt and pants. I swear, while his mane and tail were patchy, if he could transplant his eyebrow follicles to them he'd have luxurious growth in no time.

"Oh, young Gray Rock, I was just closing up, what brings you out here?" he asked as he trudged aside to let me in. He closed and locked the door behind him.

"Orders from Princess Luna, Sergeant Fast Link" I admitted with a shrug, "I was to 'report to Ponyville expeditiously', since the stockade is closed with Captain Balustrade and Clear Brook still in Canterlot, this is where I'm to report to I guess."

He frowned a bit. "Most irregular, but I suspect they have a reason. Pick a bunk, the cell doors don't work, as you know," he said then muttered, "Like everything else around here, useless."

I didn't point out that he was among the useless, unworking things that Celestia had here. He was kept on for his long service and having him starve to death was against her morals, so he had a make work job that he really didn't work at. Maintenance of the place being his primary job. "Well, I suspect I'll be here for a while, so I can help with repairs. Once they clear up what I'm here for, and how long I'm to be here we can formalize things," I said.

"Damned irregular," he muttered as I selected the cleanest bunk, deciding that laundry and some general housekeeping were on the docket for tomorrow.

Journal Entry Day 48

It took them five days and Spike remembering the old stallion might help in the man-hunt to locate me. To say Spike was in full facepalm mode, and the old soldier was livid was underplaying things considerably.

We'd repaired the cell doors, and the window bars, got the place looking spic and span, and I'd even helped get the interior set up for repainting when a company of heavily-armed Royal Guards, all six Element-Bearers, and a few of the most ridiculously visible ninja-ponies charged over.

I doubt 'hopping mad' was ever so correctly applied. Fast Link is actually able to get airborne for a short moment as he paces. "I did report him!" the old stallion says and flaps furiously, "Used the new forms, Gray Rock checked it over, I gave it to the mail mare, young Gray Rock watched that too. All right and proper, I have the carbon copies to prove it!" now he really starts shouting, "Who the Bloody Tartarus reported him missing without checking the logs!"

The officers all shy back from the old soldier being called out for dereliction, when he did everything right. I keep scrupulously silent, letting the plan unfold at its own speed. Nopony wants to contradict the old soldier, or to point out his report was likely trashed the instant it arrived as a sign of growing senility. Why would he have a dangerous prisoner after all and how could he hold one?

"Why didn't you report to the stockade?" the most senior officer asks me.

"Don't answer, you're still under my jurisdiction and cannot be examined without a legal representative," the old stallion tells me, "He arrived and reported that he knew the stockade was not garrisoned and that Her Highness' orders were to 'report to Ponyville expeditiously'. I verified the next day that the stockade's staff: Captain Balustrade and Doctor Clear Brook, were still in Canterlot. This was the only place to report to. All of that, word for word, was in my report."

The next probably would have scared off Sombra, "WHICH WOULD HAVE BEEN OBVIOUS HAD ANYPONY ACTUALLY READ IT!"

Pinkie stepped forward. "Well, this has all been cleared up," she says and grins, "But you can come to a welcome back party."

"I'm not setting foot outside this jail until this is all cleared up and Sergeant Fast Link's good name has been restored," I say, "I'm officially a fugitive, and if signed paperwork doesn't prove I followed the commands of the Diarchs, then your word is worth even less."

The Bearers glance at each other nervously.

"Call a JG officer," Fast Link says and looks straight at Twilight, "Not a student. A Colonel at least, this directly affects a Royal Order and needs all the i's dotted and the t's crossed, maybe even a presentation to the Court itself. Never in all my days have I seen such a complete cod-up."

There are a lot of shamed looks at the guards. Derpy has flown in, momentarily examining the crowd, then ignoring them to do her duty. "Receipt for the delivery of your report," she says happily, "It's got who signed for it and everything, just like I told you."

The mail mare had understood how important the report was and suggested the return receipt to Fast Link, recording the date, time and name of the receiving person.

"Anything else?" the old soldier asks as he collects the paperwork, "Like a reply?"

Derpy shrugs, then flies away. I hear Spike's facepalm amid the silence of the ponies.

I'll skip over the military arguments, I excused myself and told Fast Link I needed to deliver a message from Luna and an apology to the Bearers privately. So I led them in, locked myself in my cell and told them what I'd put together from what Princess Luna had told me.

It was all mind games, but it could be arrived at from what Luna had said and done.

As soon as the door clicks shut and I can sit on my bunk I smile at them, all six Bearers eager to hear Luna's words.

"I have to apologize, I mistook all your actions, Luna set me straight. Everything must be done to contain, or failing that destroy Nightmare," I say as they nod, and I turn to Rainbow, "I didn't realize you attacking me all the time was supposed to desensitize me so when you approached to put a knife or spear in my heart I wouldn't notice."

Rainbow's ears went flat and her eyes got bigger while her pupils shrank.

"Pinkie, I didn't realize you kept inviting me to those parties so you could get me used to your cooking so later you could slip me something poisonous, maybe even something that could kill me instantly and leave ponies untouched. I know how talented you are."

Pinkie's hair practically snaps flat as she stares.

"Fluttershy, now I know you were luring me out to the wood so you could get me eaten by something, or run me over a cockatrice, very clever," I say.

Fluttershy is too shocked to even cry.

"Twilight, well, you're Twilight Sparkle Student of Celestia, and ZAP no more Gray Rock, I understand," I say.

Bookmare looks horrified.

"Don't be so surprised, when you six went after that dragon, Celestia needed that done so you did it," I say, "Oh, I won't mention it to Spike, he's too young to understand politics of this level."

I look at Rarity and Applejack who are just as stunned as the others. "That goes for Sweetie Belle and Applebloom, too young to understand a pest has to be exterminated to protect the rest of the crop. And frankly, I haven't figured out what you two were ordered to do. So congratulations on that."

"Thank you," Rarity says almost on reflex and gives a little laugh.

"So, once they get this straightened out, Rainbow, you can go back to hitting me; Pinkie Pie, I'll start attending all your parties; Fluttershy, you'll see me out there at least once a week. You all look so sad, don't worry, I would have never figured it out without Princess Luna. If fact, you want a laugh? I actually thought you were all flirting with me." I laugh at that. "Is that pathetic or what? Maybe arrogant on my part. You should all be complimented on your skills at misdirection."

"You think I got mad at you because I wanted to assassinate you?" Pinkamena asks, "Not because you were missing out on fun?"

"Yes, because parties aren't fun for me, as I said several times," I reply.

The Bearers laugh nervously and back out of the jail, jostling each other slightly as they refuse to break eye contact with me.

Journal Entry Day 49

The team left all feeling vaguely horrified to find that Spike had used his ability to communicate directly with Celestia to deal with the situation. The paper work was found, had been filed without review, and the 'report to Ponyville' had been meant as a return to status quo ante.

So bright and early the next day, Applejack was waiting for me to take me home. Her words not mine.

"You really want to come back?" Applejack asks as we walk side by side. She'd been quiet, glancing around nervously, until we spotted the outskirts of Sweet Apple Acres.

"If you've got work and a bunk, yes," I reply.

She nods but gulps before she continues. "You really believe all that you said?"

"Let's wait until Granny Smith and Big Mac are around so I only have to explain it once," I say, "Sweetie Belle came by the jail and said something about the rock farm."

"Uh, yeah they kinda started on it since you weren't here and Pinkie kinda flipped that you were missing prime growing season," Applejack says and chuckles, "Somethin' started because they brought Spike out and he started salivating about what he smelled."

"Good to know," I say.

With all the safe subjects disposed of, we again walk in silence. Applejack pauses for a moment and sidesteps, lays her chin on my shoulder and takes my hand. We walk like that for a while. She disengages when we get close to the house.

Once inside, and verified that Applebloom isn't around, I explain to the trio. "While Princess Luna did imply she could order the Elements to deal with me, alone or collectively, I know Celestia would block any action without cause."

Granny Smith's laugher interrupts me. "Young'un, it takes no genius to see you're sweet on Applejack, and none of the stallions round here are willin' to put in a hard day's work to impress her. Let alone a week."

I don't know which of us is blushing harder, me or Applejack.

"Parasitoids, yup," Big Mac says then starts laughing, "Good joke."

"You aren't mad?" I ask.

Granny pats me on the shoulder. "Young'un, if they'da treated me the way they were treating you, young Colgate would've done a land office business in dentures. We talked about it with Applejack after her bad dreams."

"We talk," Big Mac says and chuckles again, "What next?"

"He said all Pinkie's invites and Dashie hittin' him, and Twilight's interest was setting him up for an assassination, by us," Applejack blurted out.

"How was you gonna kill him?" Granny asks and winks at Applejack who goes burnt umber. Ironically, she steps behind me to hide. Something both Big Mac and Granny Smith note with upraised eyebrows.

"There was another reason for it, something I wrangled out of Nightmare. Evidently, whatever would make me a good host for Nightmare would also make me a good Bearer, and so some of their feelings were due to resonance between Nightmare and the Bearers," I say, "I wanted to put a stop to that, so I put out those rumors so they'd stop and think about why they were behaving irrationally."

"How was Applejack?" Big Mac asks.

I hear her gasp, but I answer first, "She didn't, other than getting embarrassed by anyone bringing it up. She and Rarity were the only two who acted like ladies, instead of besotted teenagers or children."

The knowing look on Granny's face warns me that Applejack may have had a coach planning her moves, and restricting them. An advantage none of the others had, including Celestia.

"Of course," Nightmare says, "But I want you to have both."

"Gray Rock?" Big Mac asks as he approaches, worry etched on his face.

"Nightmare," I say, "She's a friend, but she still likes to tip over the applecart just to watch what happens."

"Damn straight," Nightmare says.

"Like her suggestion," I say.

"Don't tell them that!" Nightmare shouts and screams.

"I shouldn't choose between Applejack and Princess Celestia," I say.

Applejack drapes her arms over my shoulders as she leans against my back and starts laughing. Big Mac and Granny Smith start laughing as well.

"Dream big," Big Mac manages between laughs.

Should I tell them? I silently ask Nightmare.

"Don't you dare!" Nightmare replies.

Journal Entry Day 50

I was collecting the baskets, with two good arms, finally, when Applejack completely missed a buck, as she realized the implications of Nightmare resonating with the Bearers. Since both Celestia and Luna were Bearers. There was a bit of a heartfelt discussion that Luna was acting like Rainbow, trying to act tough and hateful to disguise it, and Celestia acting more like Applejack, trying to be a friend while she figured out whether she wanted to be more. Cue Applejack blushing like a mad fool.

There also was a discussion with the newly arrived Clear Brook about Luna suggesting I'd be assassinated by the Bearers. I corrected her that it would be an execution, as I am still under suspicion for being a threat to the nation. A distinction without a difference but still disconcerting for Clear Brook. She also kept repeating that Luna never said, and I replied that Luna implied. Of course she never said directly, but a wink and a nod is as good as a command from a diarch. Clear Brook and Balustrade really didn't like that implication in my other journal.

Pinkie had a party, without inviting me, and Rainbow now stays well out of my reach, if not out of my sight. Spooking her when she was napping in an apple tree almost got her to Sonic Rainboom speeds. So that plan is working. It hasn't stopped Applejack from sitting back to back with me while we eat lunch and discuss mainly work stuff. Her pauses and sudden non sequiturs indicate she wants to ask other things, vain possibly narcissistic hope tells me she want to discuss us, but she could want to talk about rock farming for all I know.

The Elephant in the Room remains Discord. Applebloom has mentioned an upcoming school trip to Canterlot. How to deal with unreformed Discord? I warned Luna that the bindings of the Elements were fading, so have they taken any precautions? Should I go up there ahead of time to be ready? Should I have the Elements waiting for him? Was his escape and defeat part of Celestia's plan? Will I stop writing like the announcer from the 1960's Batman show?

The rock farm is weird work. Moving rocks around to collect the currents of magic. Without Nightmare's senses, I'd be hopeless at it. I keep finding the Crusaders and Spike doing it. I've even found Big Mac moving the rocks around. I can understand while Pinkie hates it, it's not kinetic enough. But it's actually a good form of meditation, letting your instincts guide you and the motion is mindlessly simple and short. There's not much to do with a small patch of land, but with acres of rocks I can see where it would be serious work.

The moving around to the best spots only takes a few minutes at the start of the day, right after lunch and before nightfall. It'll take weeks to see any results, but the best gemstones are grown in little farms like this. It'll be interesting to see whether Spike or Rarity gets the best (no matter who I give them to).

I'm walking through the statue gardens of Canterlot. Per the Apples, I'm taking a day off. To the royalty, I've sensed Discord's reemergence. I'm alone here, watching. I can feel the bindings unraveling, I can hear the approach of Teacher Cheerilee's group, and I can smell the three cream pies and the slice I purchased this morning on arriving in Canterlot.

"You have no hope of defeating him," Nightmare says, "We should hide and await his defeat by the Bearers."

I'm going to draw first blood, I think to her, The Bearers can clean up.

The Crusaders get into their scuffle and leave, and I step out, noting the crack on Discord's statue and the blinking light. Princess Luna has also heard about my presence and arrives with a contingent of guards.

"You were told -" she begins a diatribe.

"That crack wasn't there a few minutes ago and I didn't make it," I tell her pointing out the slowly increasing fracture, "And is that his heartbeat?"

Luna pales, then retreats shouting Celestia's name. The guards without direct orders look around worriedly.

"Go back to your posts or your homes, there'll be plenty to do in an hour or two," I tell them. The senior officer dispatches most of the guards, while the ominous sound of the crack expanding gives warning that there's more than they know. When secondary cracks begin spiderwebbing off, the senior guard takes all the rest with her in search of Captain Armor.

Discord explodes out of the remains of his shell. I've positioned myself near a low hedge and I let Discord got through an eye-watering set of stretches. Then I drop below the hedge as I let fly with the first pie.

Discord stops making the groans as what happened sinks in and the pie filling drips off him.

"Fifty-three, Fifty-three, Fifty-three, Fifty-three, Fifty-three, Fifty-three," I yell.

Discord pokes his head over the hedge, and hit smack him with the second pie right in his face.

He withdraws as I start chanting, "Fifty-four, Fifty-four, Fifty-four, Fifty-four."

This time I lift up, without wanting to. Discord is clean, looking exactly like canon Discord, except for the almost fatherly expression on his face. I mange to snag the remaining pie and piece, but they both vanish before I can throw then.

"Three and one-seventh pies, I get it," Discord says, "I appreciate the effort, but kid, let me set you straight. Like every self-insert brony, you want to 'Save Discord' early, but I have to get my villain cred early, while the audience can rationalize it away as 'well maybe he was used to dealing with Three Kingdom/post-Windingo bastard ponies'. Plus, we've got to give Book Mare her Heroic BSOD or Lesson Zero comes across as terrifyingly sociopathic rather than PTSD. There's also Celestia proving her Marenificent Bastard planning skills, the CMOH of the recovery, and you'd deny the fans 'that big, dumb meany!'? And as for redeeming me, that's Fluttershy's CMOA, and that girl really needs them, or she'll get Flanderized into the doormat Friend of All Living Things rather than Silk Hiding Steel.

"So, full marks, six out of ten, which if you come out as a Masculine-presenting, Transgendered Lesbian would get you a 96% on Rotten Tomatoes for Woke Points alone, but I really, really gotta do this now. I mean Star Trek can't last forever, so DeLancie's gotta scoop up the fans and shekels somewhere else. Am I right? Of course I can. But I'll let you know, Applejack really does care about you."

Suddenly I was a potted geranium.

"Via con dios (1)," Discord says as he vanishes.

"Did that go well, or go badly?" Nightmare asks as I find myself in the anteroom again.

I sigh. "I screwed up," I admit.

"Well, that's always fun," Nightmare says.

The interlude I leave to your imagination. But the situation unfolds pretty much as expected. The Harmony Wave from the Elements washes over everything, reversing Discord's changes.

Except one potted geranium near the base of his statue.

"This could be a problem," Nightmare says, "Especially if everypony forgets to water us."

All my joking about getting killed by the ponies takes a rather grim transmutation at that point. And it stops being so funny.

(1) Discord here, I spelled dios with a lower case d because, let's face it I was talking about me. And getting into a trademark dispute with big D would be like getting into a copyright dispute with the Mouse House, and even I'm not that powerful.

Author's Note

Yes, this is completed. But before you get the tar and feathers, I'm working on a sequel. But considering the date of publishing, don't tell anyone else.

1) The Mane Six

The Main Six

DISCLAIMER: My Little Pony is the property of Hasbro, Inc.

Pinkie looked at her fellow Bearers lit only by a single candle in the middle of the table, raised a defiant fist and announced, "Now we are agreed. Tomorrow, nopony asks Gray Rock for odd jobs, and the day after tomorrow," Pinkie said and extended a hand to her fellow Bearers, "We throw the most excellenest, partytastic 'Welcome to Ponyville' Party Equestria has ever seen." The assembled Bearers clasped hands and hurrahed, completely missing Spike's facepalm as he considered another Pinkie Plan encountering the alien's convoluted understanding of ponies.

Journal Entry Day 23

My transition specialist Clear Brook has suggested I keep a journal, which I knew would be reviewed by her and the Royal staff. And I have been, they are paying for my upkeep so an hour or so of writing every day seems more than fair. But after a couple weeks, the writing bug bit me and I want to keep another journal, of my private thoughts and experiences. I may show this to someone, I refuse to say 'somepony', or it may only be released when they go over my grave goods.

To start, I don't know how I got here. Since I arrived around the time of Nightmare's defeat, the assumption is the wild magic ripped open a portal and I came through. All in all, it isn't a bad theory, since Nightmare is trapped in my head and 'irrevocably tied to my lifeforce', which means as long as I'm alive, it's trapped, and with no native magic, it can't turn me into Nightmare Gray Rock! let the mortals tremble and the vibratos sound!

So the ponies have a vested interest in me not dying. Although I suggested in my other journal that petrifying me in stone would make the imprisonment permanent, and the resulting careful, and supposedly spontaneous, explanation by Balustrade, the military aide overseeing me, pointed out that Princess Celestia would never do something like that. As you can guess, it was a gambit to verify that he and Clear Brook were indeed reading the other journal.

Side note, some of you may wonder at the mind games I've already alluded to, and the name Gray Rock may give others a clue. My childhood was not a pleasant one. Before I was really aware of anything, my two, oldest half-sisters were already at each others' throats from my mother constantly placing one as 'the pretty one' and the other as 'the smart one', then often putting the other down because they weren't the first. Sorry, I keep writing things that only make sense to me. Jerika was pretty and older, so when she did anything dumb or just not up to standards, 'why couldn't you be as smart as Markeesia?', and Markeesia it was 'why can't you be as pretty/easy to find clothes for, etc. as Jerika?'

Two cats in a pot of boiling water wouldn't have fought as savagely as my two half-sisters, much to my mother's delight. I learned about the psychological trick of being a gray rock, making myself so uninteresting and drama-resistant that the psychopaths go elsewhere for their fix. That my mother and older half-sisters did the same 'let's you and her fight' shaping to my two, younger half-sisters means that when I found myself surrounded by aliens who were frightened or angry, or both, I realized I was in a healthier place than my home on Earth. So if you're expecting me to spurg out about missing my family, my friends, my mp3 player, etc. Don't. I enjoy my sanity and emotional tranquility more. Besides, as soon as I turned 18, I was going to join the Air Force, Army, Coast Guard, Navy, Marines or Peace Corp whichever would get me out of there. So that I suddenly found myself drafted into the Terran Diplomatic Corps in an alien world was fine.

That isn't to say the ponies here aren't all completely crazy, but at least there's a variety, and unlike my mother, I'm more than a welfare check, so they either do care about me, or they're a lot better at faking it than my mother ever was.

The other point of interest from a nearly 18-year-old male, they aren't quadrupeds. There's probably a word for horse-legged anthromorph, but biology isn't my strong suit. As an added bonus for being more humanoid, a lot of locals have bodies you don't see outside of comic books. I know: body fuzz and butterface. The faces with muzzles aren't hideous, just alien. Clearly on the good side of the Uncanny Valley. Call me a furry, but no girls in my school were built like that, and any that were even remotely close were dating college guys with money and/or were fans of drama the way my mother was. So I'll take friendly with a side of soft, all-body fuzz over shaved and eat you up and spit you out anytime, any place, and any how.

Like I said, the crazy varies. Rainbow is the only one who feels like home, to her detriment. The day after they'd defeated Nightmare, the day I arrived, she attacked me out of the blue, kicked me so hard in the side the impact broke my arm on the other side when I landed on it, now I know what a greenstick fracture is, and dislocated eight of my ribs on the kicked side. Getting those popped back in was a new experience of pain. Now I would have been okay with the whole misunderstanding, considering I found out I was harboring Nightmare Moon, except that was her method of greeting for the next few days.

WHAM! And I'm lying face down in the mud of Sweet Apple Acres.

"You really need to watch your back Gray Rock!" Rainbow said as she laughed.

"Rainbow!" Rarity sounded off, "You were asked not to do that."

"Agreed too," Applejack added and glared at the laughing mare before glancing at the two ponies in hoodies.

"Aww come on, it's just a bit of fun," Rainbow said, making no attempt to help me up. Applejack did while Rarity fussed with the sling and got it around my arm again.

"Actually," one of the hooded ponies said, and lowered her hood, "Guarding him is a Bearer's job."

"Now Cap'n Spitfire," Applejack began, "Rainbow didn't mean nothin'."

"Yes," Spitfire said, as she pulled a folder from her saddlebags. Rainbow's name was prominent across the front. "But, she's also proved something else." She tore the folder in half.

Rainbow squalled like she'd had a wing torn off.

Clear Brook lowered her hood and stared at the assembled ponies. "I think the supposition was correct, this was a mate-guarding behavior. Driving off a competitor. Her increased aggression towards Miss Applejack also might stem from a similar source."

The mare in question tilted her head. "Twi? How'd you get a pegasus suit?" Applejack asked and smirked at the grinning Clear Brook.

"Rainbow, a filly fooler, after - me?" Rarity gasped, then hid a chuckle at Clear Brook's wink.

"Don't get Captain Balustrade mad at'cha," Applejack said quietly. Rarity nodded. I already knew.

"What?" Rainbow squealed as she whirled in the air to face her accusers, "You can't think, you can't mean, this can't be happening!"

Turns out the Wonerbolts shred everyone's application at the end of the year, but Rainbow didn't know that. What the rest of the Bearers did with the idea Rainbow is mate-guarding Rarity I decided I didn't want to know about.

Speaking of Rarity, I've met more fashion-obsessed, but they weren't makers, only consumers. A lot of guys go naked, there being nothing loose or visible, but girls wear halters, shirts, bras, etc. because they frankly need to. So Rarity's a bit busier than canon, despite that I think Rarity would have gotten out the hot pincers and thumbscrews to learn every fashion secret from another world if I hadn't slowed her down. I'm a history nerd, so I told her about arsenic wafers to keep a pale complection, foot binding for small feet, the brass-ring giraffe look, and to give her a little hope and to keep her from bursting into tears every time she saw me, the little black dress.

Rarity's mascara was running down her face along with her tears. "That's, that's horrible!"

I shrugged. I think I overdid it, I considered.

"People had weird ideas about fashion, the really wild ones were the only ones that stick in my head," I told her.

"I can't decide which of these is the worst, possible thing!" Rarity said threw herself on a divan and broke out in sobs.

I retrieved a box of tissues from the table and let Rarity blow her nose and wipe her face. "There is one, but I know you won't like it."

"Tell me," she said, and swooned on a couch, "Then I can die of despair!"

"It's called the little, black dress. Basically it's shoulders to ankles, form-fitting . . . bespoke is what it's called, I think," I told her.

"Oh a fitted sack, how quaint," she said and sniffled before blowing her nose again.

"It's not what's added, it's what's removed that's the thing. If a woman has nice legs, you slit up the side. If she has good shoulders then they are bared with spaghetti straps or a collar around the neck."

"Can it be backless?" she asked, showing a resurgent interest.

"Yes, or armless with matching gloves," I said, "If she's got a good tummy, there may be a cut out."

"It hides the parts you want concealed by accenting what you want revealed!" Rarity said, showing a Twilightesque enthrallment with the subject and the images in her mind's eye. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, I must get to work, do you mind seeing yourself out, I really do appreciate this, if you have any good ideas please feel free to drop by, oh Fluttershy would be perfect, oh Applejack will be such a challenge and Rainbow Dash will finally be dressed in style!"

I let myself out and counted myself lucky for the escape.

I've since added the tuxedo and the cheongsam to her repertoire, but I'll parse the ideas out slowly. Pony fashion is baroque, rococo ostentation. Minimalism is hardly known and will give Rarity some bold ideas. Yes, I am a history nerd, so I know about a lot of things. I used to hide from my household at the library and the gym, not that learning or being toned got me anything, except closer to the military and getting out.

I'm going to keep back the idea of the codpiece, from what I've seen of pony fashion it would be adopted immediately. Despite the fact you can't normally see anything on a naked pony.

I mentioned Twilight. She's one of the stranger ones. To put it bluntly, she's aggressively open-minded when it comes to stallion friends. I think that's why Big Mac plays laconic to the point of muteness around her. She's easily excited and experimental, both without a willing recipient for her long-awaited glee.

Call me old fashioned, or just gunshy, but after getting blown off for years, having it treated as a science experiment is a buzzkill of epic proportions. Acting clueless is the best defense, being a buzzkiller for her. Which is why I will keep employing it.

I sat back in the library chair and stared at the tree ceiling. "Well, they give the stallion a handjob until he blows his load in a bag. They separate out the samples into small syringes, so the buyer takes it and injects it into a receptive mare," I told Twilight, "Not really very romantic at all." I sat forward and watched the effect on 'Princess Celestia's Personal Student' of missing the point, again.

Twilight was doing the frustration dance I'd seen in other ponies. Basically dozens of high speed little stomps left-right left-right, not loud, but quite noticeable. She was also making a noise like a steam whistle working up to blow.

"But what about ponies?" she asked. Too wound up in getting the question out to have listened to the answer to the previous one.

A shrug. "I would assume they'd be handled the same way as horses," I told her, "A lot of livestock breeding is carefully controlled to produce the best animals."

"No, ponies here." The self-disheveling mane was a clue I was pushing the boundaries.

"That would be between ponies," I told her, "I've seen foals so I assume it works for them culturally. But that would be a cultural and biological minefield. I mean on Earth some species eat their mates. On Earth among humans, there were the Corn Kings, who'd be an object of veneration for a year, then had his heart cut out. Too scary to think about."

With Twilight staring at me in open-mouthed amazement, I bid adieu and left. A few moments later the tree library shook to rhythmic clonking as Twilight either stomped around or more likely beat her head against the wall.

If I thought I'd survive it, and the wrath of her patron, the planetary ruler, I might scratch Twilight's itch. Big if, huge, immense, inconceivably large if. So strike that. She'll be fine once she fights another monster.

Fluttershy is another scary one, but for the exact opposite reason. Unlike Twilight, she fully understands the mechanics, a vet would, whether she has any practical experience is debatable, but the vocabulary she uses indicates either a student whose focus puts Twilight's to shame, or someone whose experience would stun all her friends.

"You know we're all alone out here," Fluttershy said as we sat just outside her cottage and she checked the bruising on my broken arm, "And you're very strong."

"I think there are stronger ponies," I told her as she tried to hide her blush behind her hair business, for the eleventh time.

"I mean if something were to happen," Fluttershy said as she carefully fitted the sling back in place, no so incidently stroking my arm, "No one would rush in and inter - fere. Someone could come in and tie me up and there'd be no one to stop them."

"I'm sure your animal friends would get help," I replied, trying not to show how creeped out I was by the vibe she was putting off, the little brushes of her fingers, and the low, breathiness of her voice. "And a bear is a great equalizer."

"But I'd still be helpless, all tied up, and someone could do just anything to me," Fluttershy said so close I could feel her breath on my face.

I cupped her chin in my hand. She closed her eyes and puckered her lips, blushing slightly.

"Fluttershy, you're a strong pony, you must learn to give yourself more credit. If someone broke in here, you'd fight them. If you want to learn how to fight better, talk to Rarity, I'm sure she'd be happy to teach you," I told her. I'd only seen the look of betrayal for a moment, but it had been there, "And if you are concerned about needing encouragement to do something, I and all your friends will stand behind you. Taking the first step is sometimes painful, but you only get self-confidence by picking yourself up after you fall, and realizing the fall didn't hurt as much as you expected it would."

I gave her a kiss on the forehead, like you'd give a kid. "Thanks for the check up, I'll tell Rarity you want that martial arts training."

"Thank you," Fluttershy said between clenched teeth as I left.

I was about a hundred yards from the cottage when I think I heard something. The bats heard it because a lot of them went crazy and the timberwolves howled a few moments later. Fortunately they sounded far away.

I told Rarity when I got back that Fluttershy was concerned about intruders and that she might broach the subject about training Fluttershy to fight at their next spa day. I escaped after expressing interest in her designs for the little black dresses and then patently ignoring the fanservice as Rarity modeled hers. Frankly there are naked poledancers who couldn't put on the show Rarity did fully clothed.

I did ask Captain Balustrade and Clear Brook about whether Fluttershy had anything to be nervous about, then used some of Fluttershy's phrases, but not her tone.

"That's what she said," I told my two pony minders, one military, the other my transition specialist, a psychological/psychosocial expert. Both pegasi, both now with their wings painfully extended.

"Clear Brook, I think this is more a cross-cultural communications problem," the military stallion said, "And I need a shower."

Clear Brook glowered at his retreating back before softening her expression and looking back at me. "I'm not sure that Fluttershy was concerned about her safety."

"Oh, that's good to hear, but I already told Rarity about the martial arts lessons," I said, "She seemed to think the idea was funny, but it's out there."

"Don't you think there could be another reason Fluttershy said those things to you?" Clear Brook asked, proving she was a psychologist through and through, by not just telling me the obvious.

"Well, I already told her about her self-confidence. I assume she was bullied as a child, and you really have to do a lot of work to overcome childhood traumas," I said.

"Could Fluttershy have been hinting at something else?" Clear Brook said, "Something she didn't want to say directly, for fear of it being misinterpreted."

"Implying something, alone, no one around," I said, thinking aloud, "She's lonely?"

Clear Brook clearly wanted to yell 'YES!!' but professional decorum trumped emotion. "That's a very likely scenario, and what does that imply?"

"Fear of misinterpretation," I said, and facepalmed, "She wants me to ask her friends to visit her more often!"

Clear Brook had gone from elated to purblind in an instant.

"Gee, thanks Doc, I swear I'm so dense I wonder why I don't sink to the center of the Earth," I said.

"You don't say?" Clear Brook said as she rubbed her forehead.

"Well, I should tell the others, that Fluttershy's feeling lonely and misses them. Maybe they could do some of their stuff out there where Fluttershy could keep track of her animals," I said, "Great idea Doc, I would have missed that completely."

"Are you sure that's what she meant? She couldn't have meant something else, something more personal?" Clear Brook asked.

" 'More personal'? I thought the whole Rainbow is a filly fooler was something you made up to shock Rainbow Dash," I said, "She and she . . . I think I'll just tell them all that Fluttershy is feeling lonely."

"You do that," Clear Brook said, nearly losing her professional decorum, "What did I ever do to the crown?"

Clear Brook clearly wanted to shout at me that Fluttershy wanted to get into my pants, but I think she dreaded having to explain the genesis and meaning of whatever pony-euphemisms they had for the act. I could tell the gray-maned, cream-colored mare was a real psychologist, she refused to say anything leading. Although our conversations were likely making her gray hair grayer.

I also had another person to ask why this was happening. I hadn't gotten particularly better looking on my transition here. Most of the guys were model to Greek god levels of good looking, unless they were ancient, so the interest, especially to creepy levels was disturbing. It had no cause I could see, so if whatever it was suddenly stopped, I was in trouble. I knew how my mother and old half-sisters reacted to a guy once he'd dumped her. My oldest half-sister trashed the guy's car when he dumped her and took up with her best frenemy.

Considering these were the agents of the crown to be sent against the worst evils of Equestria, the idea of them coming after me was terrifying.

"Nightmare, what is up with the Bearers?" I asked the other entity in my head.

Nightmare took a deep breath and sighed, which was well worth watching all on its own.

"The various qualities that make the Bearers appropriate for their task also makes them appropriate for serving as my host," Nightmare said as she pulled me into her lap and an all-limbs hug. "That calls to them on one hand, but there's also the desire to save you from the Nightmare Forces, me, on the other. I doubt they are even aware of the twin tensions in their hearts, so they are not reacting normally."

"That does explain why Pinkie Pie and Applejack are acting the way they are. The first just accepts and continues, the second acts like an adult about it," I said.

"Yet you fear the first and long for the second," Nightmare teased.

"I have my own childhood desires and fears for both, but I know why I'm acting irrationally," I replied as I snuggled against her. "So Nightmare Twilight?"

She snorted. "Give me some credit for taste. Nightmare Rarity would be cool and elegant as a star-filled autumn night. Nightmare Pinkie Pie would be a draconequus in all but name."

I haven't revealed I know the series, so she thought she'd been mysterious. Pinkie as Discord I could see. Speaking of Pinkie Pie, I should probably explain why Pinkie scares me so much. Because I'm used to the 'happy, happy fun!' part of the disorder, then comes the hammering demands, emotional abuse, manipulation and often violence.

I know Pinkie freaks out about breaking Pinkie Promises, and I have no desire to see that side of her. Likewise, what seems adorable in small doses, is exhausting after a couple hours. That she's on all the time, and has to have an audience reminds me too much of my mother. And if I didn't play a good audience, I could expect abuse. Until I discovered Gray Rock protocol.

"Hey Gray Rock!" I heard and stifled a cringe.

"See ya later," Balustrade said, taking to the air leaving me to my fate.

"So, I've got the most splendiferous party planned!" Pinkie Pie said as she bounced into view.

"And you need help setting it up?" I asked.

The bounce became less pronounced. "No."

"You need help with tear down," I said, "Not a problem, always glad to help."

"It's at 1:00 P.M., be sure to be there!" she said and bounced away.

Fortunately, 1:00 P.M. is when I'm supposed to report to Clear Brook, I remembered.

Suddenly she was back. "And I already canceled your appointment with Clear Brook." And she was gone.

I'll verify that at 12:55, I thought, Then if she hasn't left a note, I can do what I want.

I don't have anything against Pinkie personally, but the endless need to know every detail of my life, the demand that I have to drop everything and do as she wants, my mother was like that. But my mother kept a roof over my head, food on the table and clothes on my back. As abusive as she was, she gave back, under the threat of legal sanction but still. With Pinkie it is all one way. You give she takes, you can't live your life you have to bend to hers.

Since she didn't ask, and I didn't promise, I didn't attend the party. Because frankly, I hate parties. I'd rather spend time at the gym, or in the library. I'd rather be producing something than standing in a loud room eating empty calories and having empty conversations.

Now some might think I'm being a bit passive-aggressive, but my chain-of-command comes through Balustrade and Clear Brook, not Twilight and definitely not Pinkie. So Pinkie can't order me to attend to her whims, only Balustrade and Clear Brook can transmit Princess Celestia's orders.

12:55 had come and gone and neither Clear Brook nor Balustrade are in the office, I thought as I walked out of the mostly disused outpost, No notes or messages were waiting, time to go looking for them.

I headed to the wrong, but reasonable place to look. With Pinkie's party in full swing, I thought, Their likely location, but Clear Brook often frequents the library. Whether Twilight is a scintillating conversationalist or if she was researching me, I haven't asked.

The door to the library was open, and no Twilight could be heard within, but another set of feet could be heard.

"Oh, hi Gray Rock," Spike said as enthusiasm fading with recognition.

"Twilight ran off and left you, again," I said.

The little dragon nodded. "Pinkie's throwing a big party."

"And she forgot to invite you," I said.

"Again," we said together and had a sad chuckle.

"Yes, well is Clear Brook here? We were supposed to have our meeting. I can't imagine her tossing that away without good reason," I said, "Princess Celestia did mandate them."

Spike shrugged. "She was here earlier, maybe she's at the party," Spike offered.

"Well, I'll wait here a bit, and then check the office. Those meetings keep my head out of the noose, so I'm as eager to have them as Clear Brook is," I said.

"Celestia wouldn't hurt you," Spike assured me.

"Princess Celestia has to defend all her ponies and her country," I told Spike, "The two are not mutually exclusive, and they may not be pleasant for me. Getting the chop has got to be better than getting sealed in somewhere for the rest of my life." I glanced around. "Do you have any books on Rock Farming?"

Frankly, Rock Farming doesn't sound as foolish as you think, and it would give me something to talk about with Pinkie Pie, when she starts asking personal questions, I can reply with questions about rock farming.

I bounced between the library and Clear Brook's office for about an hour, strike that, I walked between them. Then settled in to devour the library's entire stock on rock farming. Once I was done, I checked Clear Brook's office one last time and headed back to Sweet Apple Acres to get some shuteye.

Needless to say, Pinkie was not pleased that I'd blown off another of her parties. Of course rather than argue the point, I immediately started in on rock farming. She was gone after a few attempts. I've already made enquiries with the Apples about trying my hand in a few patches too rocky for apple cultivation. They've all teased me a bit that I don't have to live up to my name.

The Apples are a bit stranger story. When I was set to be released from the hospital, Twilight and Rarity had room in their homes, and frankly the idea of them having power over me to that degree smacked of going back to my old apartment. I'd sleep in the old castle first.

But when Applejack said they could only put me up in the barn and only if I worked, that was the ticket. As I said, I've seen the show and Applejack going crazy about bucking all of Sweet Apple Acres was in the near future. I worked, I got fed, and I could watch out for Applejack, an equitable arrangement. What I could do with one busted arm and a bunch of healing ribs was a question, but I could work.

The first afternoon was an indication that I hadn't gone too far wrong in my decision to board with a family rather than stay with a bachelorette.

"I got a bunk in the barn all set up," Applebloom said as she stared at my face, "You sure you only got your arm busted?"

"Applebloom!" Granny Smith said.

"Actually I got some ribs popped loose as well," I told her, ignoring the implication my muzzle had been hideously mangled in my arrival, "I want to thank you for having some faith in me."

"Well this is no vacation home," Applejack said, "You're going to work."

"Yes ma'am, I won't let you down," I told her.

"Well, the first thing you'll need is a bath," Applebloom said, then looked around to Granny, "They don't let you wash proper in the hospital."

"You're right, they washed the front and the top, but the back is going to be a challenge," I said, "But a bucket and a long-handled brush will do the trick."

"You can't reach around your own back?" Applebloom said as she walked around behind me.

"Applebloom," Applejack warned.

"She's better about it than Twilight or Pinkie Pie," I said, "Everybody, everypony is curious. I'm used to it by now. With the ribs, I can't reach around easily," I explained, "I'll have to reach around over the top."

"Nonsense," Granny said, "Use my tub and the bath stool, I've got to go to the store anyway. Applejack, help him."

"But Big Mac -"

"You've washed the bulls and the rams, he's jist standing upright," Granny said, completely ignoring Applejack's sudden blush.

"Yes ma'am," Applejack said softly, she looked at me, "You do have tubs where you come from?"

"All kinds," I replied as Big Mac led me away, a strange smile on his face.

The bathroom was decorated more like I would have expected Rarity's to be. Lots of different soaps and lotions. Frills in a lot of places. A selection of brushes, but no sponges or loofas. The large claw-foot tub and a small bronze stool already in the tub. The surprise was the hot and cold taps. Fanon aside, the Apples had hot, running water.

I was wearing a pair of swim trunks of Big Mac's that were too small for him anymore. He three years ago he was built like a devoted gymbro, me, was right now. I may have waxed poetic about the beauty and physical attractiveness of the females, but many of the males were between gymnast to Greek god physiques, although Egyptian god might have been more accurate. Getting the seat situated in the tub was easy, it was thin metal and light enough to handle one-handed. Someone had left a small bucket, understanding it was a rinse-soap-rinse off operation I was going to be involved with. I got myself seated and had basically poured the bucket over myself while I checked through the brushes when Applejack walked in.

While I'd see her a couple of times in the hospital, usually clad in a work shirt, this time she was wearing a one-piece bathing suit, and it showed off her curves marvelously. Her rather demur disposition of the innocent maiden rivaled Fluttershy's normal nature. She looked up at me, blushed slightly and looked down.

"I got some soft rags, might be better than brushes on your bare skin," she said as if ashamed at the presumption.

"Thank you, they will be," I said, "Very clever and thoughtful."

If she blushed more, she'd give herself a hemorrhage.

I took a couple of the rags and rubbed one of the facial soaps on it. Applejack knelt behind me and carefully began wiping the dampened rags in small circles on my back.

"Sorry to put you through this, so I figure I should answer most any question you have," I said and I swear I felt the heat of her blush on my bare skin.

"Got a girl?" she said, she thought too soft her me to hear.

"Girls? You mean my half-sisters? Yes, I have a big household. Two older, two younger, and my mother," I told her.

"Your dad, gone?" Applejack asked.

"My mother had a very different idea of what her responsibilities were than you or Granny Smith," I said, "Putting it politely, I don't think she could pick my father out of the collection of men she's been with, nor the father of any of my half-sisters."

"Oh," Applejack said, suddenly unsure of how to ask her next question.

"My half-sisters, imagine Rarity as not generous or hard-working, demanding anyone else do her work," I said, "They learned it from my mother. I wound up doing most of the chores, so I'm not afraid of hard work."

"Don't let Applebloom foist her chores on you," Applejack said, "They're her chores."

"Understood," I said, "You're good with a rope, tying knots?"

"Yes," she said, her happy tone switched to suspicious, she'd also leaned against me so she could look at my face, "This ain't fer funny stuff, is it?"

"Well, I can't lift a basket with one arm, but if I can rig a harness with a hook, I can use that to help lift a basket." Now I turned to look at her. "What 'funny stuff' were you talking about?"

She retreated behind me and took up washing again. "Nothing, nothing," she assured me, laughing nervously.

"I'm not going to hang myself because I miss my household that much, if that's what you're worried about," I said.

"Do you miss them?" Applejack said, "Do you wanna go back?"

"Considering Nightmare's defeat by the Elements is what brought me here, but I'm not expecting to get back. I was planning to join the army soon, so I wouldn't see my household for quite a while," I said, then remembered how important family was to her, "I will miss them eventually, but right now getting used to living here is keeping that at bay."

She'd left after washing my back, the suit was backless above the waist so I got a good look at the entire package. But I could wait to say anything. The apple harvesting was hard work, and I enjoyed it. My claw harness let me pick up the apple bushels with one hand.

Applejack did fall into obsession with getting the harvest out, but I was able to convince her to call on the others to help, since Big Mac was unavailable. I also hinted that while she thought of it as work, because she had to do it, the others might consider it a bit of a lark, as they were doing it for only a day.

So, second crisis averted. I also slept through the Pinkie Party that followed the harvest, completely intentionally, although Applejack knew how tired I was.

That brings us to the present. I've normally got a meeting with Clear Brook tomorrow, but she rescheduled for today. The Apples gave me tomorrow off, they were dealing with business and needed some privacy in the afternoon. No, despite fanon I don't suspect anything untoward. I'd seen the maps of Appaloosa, so it was probably what and who to send down there.

I started getting suspicious when Rarity didn't take the offer of a couple hours to talk about fashion. She's provided me a few sets of clothes, and even if she's being compensated by the crown, I still feel I have to offer something of myself. But while she seemed eager at the chance, she was terribly busy tomorrow.

Suspicions were confirmed when I learned the library was to be closed tomorrow. So the chance of reading up on things was gone. Rather conveniently gone. I smelt a rat, I also noted in my regular journal that I'd checked on the supplies of tar and pitchforks, and found them out. It would take Clear Brook a little while to find and read that, then formulate a response. That would be interesting, oh god, I'm starting to act like my mother.

The meeting with Clear Brook did not go as planned, but the dividends will be worth it.

"Clear Brook?" I call as I enter the office area of the guard post. Neither pegasus is in evidence. The pink-maned Earth Pony sitting at Clear Brook's desk starts Nightmare howling.

"I promised to advise you faithfully, now I shall, that's Princess Celestia. Don't acknowledge it, give her some position of authority but don't make her reveal herself!" comes at me from Nightmare in a single blip.

"Excuse me, I was expecting Clear Brook, are you her boss?" I ask, and smile, then in high-flown tones, "Her link with the rulering Princesses and the one on whose word they decide to let me walk free or join the statute garden?"

There's a moment of hesitation in the large, pink-haired mare in the lab coat. Then a smile. She stands and extends a hand. "That's me," she says, "Although Clear Brook suggested I speak with you directly. There are some difficult passages."

"Okay, but Applejack is expecting me back after an hour-long session. I'll need to send word I'll be late, or I've got all of tomorrow off. If you can stomach watching me fish, we can have the whole day."

"But I thought," Celestia says, then smiles, "An hour today, and I've got some fishing poles of my own stashed away. Diplomacy you see."

"Ah, not a bureaucrat, a diplomat, should I call you Your Excellency?" I ask.

"Ah, no. CeeTee will do, my name is - problematic," she says as she sits and indicates I should too.

"I know the feeling, that's why I picked Gray Rock. My actual name would be difficult to explain," I say as I sit, "And they might throw rocks, to protect the children."

She smirks at that. Nightmare is yammering in fear. I'm realizing why, or rather who Nightmare was trying to usurp/overshadow and overdid it. Celestia doesn't have the bust or the wide hips of Nightmare, to wit, her breasts aren't larger than her head and her hips and hourglass shape are more like what you'd see of someone blessed with great genetics and a skilled surgeon, rather than the near parody that Nightmare sports.

Celestia smiles again, lighting up the whole room. "Well, let's get down to brass tacks. The crown is most concerned about Nightmare."

"She's, we've come to an arrangement. I am a student of my people's history and have a good imagination. She has agreed to help keep me alive, and out of prison, and I don't send her without her magic into some of the most barbaric times in our history," I say, realizing how cruel that sounds from the outside.

Celestia's faint mou of disapproval presages her next question. "I take it that there is something a mare might fear more than a stallion?"

"No, in the worst, that would be applied to any pretty face," I say and Celestia's eyebrows rise. "Nightmare is well aware I have those in reserve. The place she went was known as the Killing Fields. When they'd kill people for the counterrevolutionary act of wearing eyeglasses, you can imagine what a bipedal equine would provoke," I reply, "And when she was press ganged into stacking corpses, some of who had suffered the fate you mentioned, sometimes within earshot of Nightmare, I did see to it that she didn't suffer that fate."

"You don't sound like you come from a very pleasant place," Celestia says as she stares at her balled fist, which she relaxes putting her palms flat on the desk between us.

"If all I had was Hearth-Warming Eve to go by, you ponies would seem more genocidal than the worst of the worst of my people," I reply. I set my hands on the desk, palms up. "As for personally unpleasant, you are correct. My daily life was one of constant psychological abuse. I suspect that's what attracted Nightmare. Unfortunately for her, I've acknowledged it, and started learning techniques to distance myself from it. I don't have the boiling pot of rage she expected, and I'm grateful at the absence, and wary of similarities."

Her look of concern and her taking my hands in hers tells me her sternness is a facade. "Is that why you are so frustrating to the Bearers?" she asks.

"I'm frustrating the Bearers due to something Nightmare admitted, that the very characteristics, the soul that makes them worthy to be the Bearers is the same that would make them resonate with Nightmare, make them good hosts. Since Nightmare is inside me," I say and nod to her.

Her grip tightens. "You get the credit for resonating with them," Celestia finishes and releases her grip to put a hand under her chin, "So are you stringing Applejack along?"

"No, as they resonate with Nightmare, I resonate with the Element that I'd embody," I admit, "So while I am allowing Applejack to be influenced, she's unwittingly wielding the same influence on me."

Celestia nods. Then she smiles. "You look like you're bursting forth with questions," she says, "Questions you can't ask Clear Brook and Balustrade?"

"Well, not one to get an answer for anyway. It'll either be trivialized, or get me locked up." That's got Celestia's attention, so she's listening intently as I say, "But first I think I need to clear something up that Clear Brook and Balustrade keep misunderstanding. Princess Celestia is the ruler of the country. That's a job title and a responsibility, that's what, not whom, I'm afraid of. If I don't measure up, that's who's going to turn me to stone, or send me to Tartarus, or whatever else. Protecting her ponies by unpleasant means, it's her fucking job to do that. That's why she gets the big bucks, the adulation and the power, because it's her job to make the hard decisions that keep the country, heck the whole planet safe from threats that might end it."

Celestia had shrunk back from my little rant. "You seem at peace with a sword dangling over your head by a hair," she says.

"One, it isn't dangling by a hair, it's a thick hawser, because the mare Celestia doesn't want to punish an innocent. And two, understanding how it works isn't the same as being comfortable with it. That's why I'm so adamant about keeping these meetings. The mare wants to protect an innocent, but the crown must protect the people, the two together need intelligence about things." I lean forward. "I know Clear Brook reads my journal, so I write down what she told me, and everything else about Equestria that bugs me, so she can help keep me on an even keel. I work at being part of Celestia's solution to Princess Celestia's problem."

Celestia has kept her face stoic, then she abruptly excuses herself and leaves. There's a ratty old couch in the corner, I stretch out on it and wait.

"You play a dangerous game," Nightmare warns, although only I can hear her, "Reducing the Diarch to tears so. Your wooing of Applejack may encounter other obstacles."

How the heck are you hearing her cry, when you're using my ears and I can't hear anything? I mentally ask.

"She was a Bearer, I can feel the turmoil within her, and you forget, while Loyalty was not an Element that chose her, she wielded it far more than Applejack did in the final battle," Nightmare says and I can hear her smug satisfaction without seeing her face.

Oops, I realize, I thought I wouldn't Applejack her because she didn't wield Loyalty.

"Oh, don't feel bad," Nightmare says, "I could have mentioned it much earlier."

She pauses to let me stew a bit, then adds, "My promise was to keep you healthy, safe and avoid imprisonment. And I had to pay you back for that comparison between my magnificent self and that drab mare."

Well, you are much cuddlier, I think in reply, and Nightmare departs.

Celestia returns, her mascara is gone, her eyes are a bit red, and her cheeks are slightly red from a quick scrubbing. "Sorry, I had to take care of something."

I nod and return to my seat before the desk. "It happens. I'm not completely free of a bit of a cruel streak, even before Nightmare found her way into my head."

"Oh?" Celestia says, and looks suspicious.

"Yes, and I'm glad you can tell Princess Celestia directly. I haven't told Clear Brook I'm not as clueless about the Bearers' advances as I have been letting on. I just think I need to give Twilight, and Clear Brook the wrong impression, that I have learned a lot, but the wrong thing."

"Oh?" Celestia says, and is very interested.

"It'll start with a bit of research in the library, and a few awkward questions to Clear Brook," I explain.

3) Luna in Shadow

Luna in Shadow

DISCLAIMER: My Little Pony is the property of Hasbro, Inc.

I wake refreshed and in total darkness. I still feel Celestia's hand in mine, and the darkness isn't due to her wing covering me. We've arrived in total darkness.

"This isn't good," Celestia says as the tip of her horn lights and barely illuminates her face.

The purple miasma that surrounds me causes Celestia to flinch, but I recognize it. "Deploy armor," I intone, and I'm soon in full plate with a pickelhaube style helmet.

Celestia relaxes as Nightmare whispers in my ear, "I missed you."

"I heard," I say and Celestia chuckles as the lights come up on the throne room of Canterlot and a teen-aged Luna standing on the dias alone.

"We are ready Tantabus, do your worst," Luna says.

A filament of Nightmare shoots out of the armor and spears the blue smoke cloud approaching Luna, drawing back and laying it in my hands. "The door swings both ways," I tell Luna as her personal nightmare squirms in my grip, then tries to batter itself loose against the Nightmare-armor.

"You two were so interested in nightmares," Nightmare says without transforming away from being a complete suit of armor, "Let us see a nightmare, of darkness and the sun."

The intrigued Luna steps up and Celestia stands close. A moment later we are standing in a very different city. The buildings are alien to anything in Equestria as are the inhabitants. Neither pony is happy about the rushing humans passing through them without reacting, but we walk out into an open area, a fire break carved like a scar on the city, everything torn loose down to the soil.

"What happened here?" Celestia gasps at the denuded landscape.

"This isn't the attack, this is part of the defense," I say, the Tantabus has grown quiet in my hands, but I don't relax my vigilance or my grip, "This is the largest industrial city in this nation, which has been at war with the rest of the world for over three years, although they started their wars well before that. The chickens are coming home to roost, they've sown the wind, now they'll reap the whirlwind."

The sound is the first thing. An odd droning, the anti-aircraft guns firing. Then the Mustangs come, seeking out fighters and flak. Celestia and Luna gasp as a nearby gun is torn to pieces by guns and rockets of the escort fighters. And still the droning grows.

"What is that?" Luna asks, having caught a glimpse of the aluminum skins of the bombers lit from beneath by the fires already set. She shoves her mane out of her face as the wind is picking up severely.

"Death, in the greatest concentration that can be arranged," I say, verifying I still have a good grip on the Tantabus.

"Who are they hunting?" Celestia asks.

"This entire city," I reply.

The whistling of the bombs and the explosions and fires interrupt whatever Celestia replies. The Tantabus squirms and pecks at my armored hands as we are surrounded by fire, the flames on both sides of the fire break rage, a hurricane force wind fanning the flames like the bellows of a forge.

"We have to get these people to the river!" Celestia shouts.

"This isn't a dream, this is a reconstruction, this is my assumption of what happened from all I read," I tell Celestia, "But we can go to the river."

The nearest river is not huge, too deep and swift to wade across but not large enough to be navigable by more than a rowboat. The fires rage on both sides, the bridge is burnt to the stone piers, and the bodies on the river float peacefully by.

"They were boiled alive," Luna says, then gallops a short distance away. She's obscured by a few large metal objects that could have been trucks or buses once.

The Tantabus has gone as quiet as Celestia at this scene. She looks around in horror at the carnage beyond anything she can conceive.

"Or maybe she can conceive it," Nightmare says, "She does control the sun, and this is well within her capabilities."

What I'll show her next will be far more within her capabilities, I think as I walk towards Luna who is brushing off her knees and wiping her mouth.

"We wish to leave," Luna says, "This is not a night We wish to experience."

"We'll go to the day side," I say as I walk to the ruins of the bridge.

We reappear in the middle of a bustling street amid a city set in low hills and valleys. The skies are cloud covered, but that won't stop anything.

"There is not a fleet of shiny death hovering above those clouds, is there?" Celestia asks as she scans the skies.

"One plane, with one bomb," I say, and hold the quiescent Tantabus over my head, "Luna, you need to give up on your self-loathing, this thing is a product of your guilt and your mind." I lower my arms.

Which Alicorn is more gobsmacked: Luna, Celestia or Nightmare, is a toss up.

"You failed, but there is enough blame to spread around. You need to appreciate you were foolish, but so was Celestia, and at point of fact, you only managed to break your sister's heart. Whatever plans you had, whatever secret revenges you considered, whatever unworthy retaliation for imagined wrong you'd would rain down on others, you did none of them."

"I can hold that scene in my mind, do you think I want to enact it? Here or even on the people who wronged me? Never. Playing with an idea that you never bring out is not a crime. You and your sister need to forgive each other and forgive yourselves." I hold up the Tantabus. "Or this can never go away."

Luna bows her head, and Celestia encloses her in a wings-and-arms-hug. "I forgive you," Celestia says, "Can you forgive me?"

Luna looks up with watery eyes. "Of course my sister." Then she bows her head. "We - I cannot forgive myself."

"Then don't silently torture yourself. Do restitution, do good works, self-flagellation is just masturbation. You want to get a happy ending, earn it," I tell her, "There are things that need doing, then let's be polite, Princess Celestia is too political to sort out, but the new out-of-phase princess can blunder into and sweep the cobwebs away because she doesn't have 300 or more years of 'we've always done it this way', because you know a time when you didn't."

Luna tries to answer, finally just nodding.

"Good enough," I say and hold the Tantabus over my head, I don't want it splattering on me, "Let there be light."

The explosion is light first. Searing light. People who were slow roasted or boiled alive in Tokyo are burned to ash in an instant. Like the Tantabus, their shadows are burned into walls and streets. Like Tokyo, some are lit on fire. They have a few moments to scream before the sound and blast wave hits throwing anything not solidly anchored away from the epicenter.

The alicorns brace against the hot wind, although none of it touches them, even knowing it's a dream, the instinct is too strong. The buildings are set ablaze from the hot wind or flying debris. The wall of dust that has rushed out leaves a surreal scene of devastation, like a drop of water on a water color picture, the location under where the bomb exploded is erased or warped far beyond the normal.

"You've slain the Tantabus," Celestia says, "Let us be away from - here."

We'd transitioned before she'd finished.

"As horrible as that was, I think it served the purpose," I say. Content that Luna has seen her actions in the right proportion.

"I'm afraid I have no choice," Princess Celestia says, drawing herself up to her full height.

"Wha?" I exclaim.

"You must remain Nightmare's jailer for the rest of your unnatural life," Princess Celestia says as my armor returns to the form of Nightmare Moon.

"Yipee!" Nightmare says and sticks out a tongue at Princess Luna, then sticks out her tongue at me, while she's kissing me.

"Let us leave them," Celestia says, "To their punishment."

"How is that -?" Princess Luna's question and her craning neck to watch Nightmare's roaming hands vanish with the two.

Nightmare seems ill-equipped to get my clothes off, so she concentrates on hers.

Journal Entry Day 31

Nightmare is a good deal more adventurous, and patient than I'd expected. She'd later admitted all that death and terrorizing the Alicorn-sisters made her incredibly hot. Okay, if I want to get enthusiastically laid, I just need to freak out Celestia and Luna. That little revelation I'll add to the other journal. Since Celestia could use the laugh and Luna needs the stick out of her ass. I may add that to the other journal as well, maybe cleaned up a bit for Luna. Oh, and all that Royal We stuff, clear symptoms of split-personality or multiple possessions, that definitely goes into the other journal, and a plan to inform Princess Celestia without warning Luna that her continuing condition has been exposed.

It was fun finding out what pleases ponies, and Nightmare's asides on what I could do to the Bearers does spark a few lewd thoughts. Of course researching it at the library in Ponyville would completely freak out Future Princess Twilight.

It seems that I didn't have to return to Ponyville, Book-Horse was up in Canterlot, expecting to get me in the mood by showing me the library and her access to certain, special collections. Only to be frustrated by my already being in the library, and already deep in study. And already deep in my prank on the Bearers.

"Hey Gray Rock," Twilight said as she pranced up to my table, there were dozens of books on the table, at least a half dozen were lying open with book marks. She took in the titles she could read off the spines or covers. Parasitoid Biology, Life Cycle of The Spider Hawk, Parasitism, Parasitoids versus Parasites, Journal for Infections: Parasites Compilation. She got a quizzical look on her face. "I was going to get you access to one of the Special Collections, but you seem to be deep in research on something else."

"Yeah, they wouldn't let me into the adult section, but biology is biology, right?" I asked, "This stuff is fascinating, horrifying, but so educational. There was a series of horror films about this stuff, but I never thought it was based on real life."

Only Twilight would start putting together wasps laying their eggs in live spiders with the Bearers' pursuit of my attention. But you draw the points and she automatically puts a line through them. "Did Nightmare suggest this?" Twilight asked as she made the connections, "You've said she plays tricks on you."

"No, she's been really quiet about this, so I just decided to look into it from what I knew back home." I turned a book to let her see. "This one, if she can't lay her eggs in the male, the fertilized eggs eat her." I turn the book back. "It's amazing, and it clears up so many questions."

" 'Questions'?" she asked with a tremor in her voice.

"Yeah, mares all over the place, but stallions, rare as hen's teeth," I said, "Fascinating." Then I look up at her. "And I understand it all now, I talked it over with Princess Celestia, she said it was ridiculous."

Twilight smiled at her relief and nodded.

"But she was giving me a hug and a longing look while she was saying it. And your brother was looking positively stoic about the plans for his wedding," I said, "It all makes sense now."

Twilight looked like she was going to correct me, when 'wedding' landed in her mind. Imagine your favorite giant monster skydiving, that kind of landing. "Wait, Shining Armor's wedding?" she asked, her hair writhed out of place a bit of its own accord.

"Well, more implied than actually said, but - " And I was alone again.

Nightmare laughed herself sick, and I understand Shining Armor and Cadence got an earful from Twilight after they admitted they were planning to wed. Then they gave one right back to her about her completely missing they had been dating for years. Poor bookish Twilight had that rolling around in her head while all that parasitoid stuff was in there as well. Parasitoids? The critters that lay their eggs in other creatures as a source of nourishment for the larva.

I plan to let that simmer, and get back to the other Bearers, before I drop the next part. A few innocent questions from things Fluttershy and Pinkie have repeatedly mentioned and might be completely innocent and disconnected, but taken together and played serious, well, it should keep Nightmare in stitches.

On my walks around the castle grounds, I found Discord's statue. The Guard evidently saw me out there and called the nearest available Princess. What, in case I decided to release him? I'm going to have to figure out what exactly they thought I'd do.

Princess Luna walked into the clearing as I stared at the odd statue.

"So are they going to throw me in prison for being here?" I asked, as I walked around, keeping my eyes on the statue, "They just needed a heavy hitter in case."

Luna shied at my rather neutral tone. "There was concern why you were spending time here," Luna said.

"What was woven with the Elements appears to be weakening. Either you should assemble the Bearers and renew the spell, or prepare for his escape," I said as I completed my circumnavigation of the statue and turned my attention to Princess Luna.

She still hasn't fully regrown, but she's still a formidable force in full armor with a sword in her hand.

"You don't seem to be afraid of him," Princess Luna said, "Nor Nightmare, nor the Tantabus, is there anything you fear?"

"You and your sister could kill me out of hand for the merest hint of a concern on your part." I nodded at the sword she held and now seemed embarrassed about. "And I'd never know what I did or that it was coming," I said, "So what's to be afraid of from him? Or Nightmare, or Tantabus, or King Sombra, or Tirek, or any of the others. They won't kill me. It would be too much fun to torture or enslave me. I've dealt with real, evil people, they enjoy holding power over others. If you two suspect I'm a threat, you'll kill me without a word or a glance. And don't claim the Elements don't kill, I know what happened to Nightmare, I know what happened to your physical body when you got hit, and I know I would not survive either, let alone both simultaneously."

Princess Luna shifted uneasily at that disclosure. "You act so carefree, yet speak as if the axe-pony's blade hangs above your neck by a hair."

"Since I have no idea what might part that hair, I choose to be aware of it," I told her, "Yet not let it rule my life."

Luna sighed. "We - " She shivered and hastily corrected, "I also wanted to tell you to quit giving Twilight Sparkle nightmares. She and the other Bearers dreamt of subduing you with personal variations of seduction, treachery and violence, then implanting eggs in you, with a variety of horrifying means also dependant on their talents and personalities. The eggs hatched and the larval ponies ate their way out, some consuming your organs before bursting out of your husk."

" 'Personal and horrifying means'?" I asked desperately hiding a smile as Nightmare giggled in my ear.

Luna sighed. "Lady Rarity cut you open during unrelenting coitus, implanted her eggs, then sewed you up closed." Princess Luna was reverting to Luna, and turning rather green. "Lady Applejack - more general violence and rope rather than thread were involved and you did not survive implantation," Luna said, "Which was one of the more merciful versions."

"That is disturbing," I replied, "I take it you are unaware of the effect their pursuit had on my nightmares."

"I am aware that delving into your mind runs me afoul of Nightmare," Princess Luna said, having regained her composure, "That was something you should have discussed with Clear Brook."

"I think she was rather hoping I'd pick one or two and settle down," I admitted.

"That will require discussion," Princess Luna said as she turned away, "Immediately leave the area and do not return here." She told me as if I wouldn't dare disobey.

"Thank you for telling me one of the skeins," I replied and bowed.

Princess Luna didn't like that one bit, but didn't rise to the bait.

I'm creating in Luna's mind the image that she's Celestia's axe-pony. That she'll do the dirty deeds and that Celestia will reap the benefits. Once it's in place, I'll ask her how it feels, in front of Celestia. I have to feed Nightmare something, and I already know that was the trap Luna fell into, 'fell into' hell even I'm soft-pedaling that. Luna walked into that role with her eyes open and eagerness pennants flying, that Celestia wouldn't do 'what needs to be done' according to Luna, with Celestia taking a more patient, less threatening approach.

The goal is to avoid the whole Nightmare Night situation long before it occurs. To make it clear Luna is overcompensating for her perceived inferiority. An inferiority Celestia has done nothing to create and will not do anything to suppress, if Luna feels inferior that's Luna's feeling not reality. Frankly, once someone is convinced they are being oppressed, nothing can convince them they are their own oppressor. Other guys in my neighborhood all complained about school and the treatment they were getting, yet not one of them was putting in the work to escape. If they thought about it, they thought they had to save the whole world. Wrong, save yourself first, then save the world if it wants saving. If it's happy to burn, break out the marshmallows and bratwurst and have a campfire sing-along.

Yeah, that sounds awful, but it's something they taught the lifeguards at our local pool: 'You don't have to die to save someone else.' Someone else's bad choices/actions aren't a suicide pact, and I'd seen too much crab bucket behavior to follow in that course myself. If someone is tearing you down, cut them out of your life, if someone offends you, don't watch/listen to them.

So Luna is going to get a mirror to her 'only I get to punish everypony including me' and then let her explain it.

Journal Entry Day 38

Yes, it's been a while. The other reason Celestia wanted me in Canterlot was the diplomanic reeeesponse to Nightmare being trapped rather than exterminated. The local Dip Lomats hardly believed that the Elements wouldn't have destroyed Nightmare, merely forced her to retreat, heal, and try again. I had to undergo a huge battery of tests to prove I had zero magical potential, and wasn't somehow poisonous or emitting evil radiation or some other bullshit.

But Celestia is paying for my upkeep, and so as her 'kept man' I went along with it. Although using that praise where it got back to Celestia was hilarious. It was ironic that Cadence and Armor were the ones offering Celestia's apologies, and that the shadenfrued?, the feeling of glee at another's expense, was thick after me siccing Twilight on their nuptial plans. As someone said, what goes around comes around, and I can take it and dish it out.

"What was that testing again?" I asked as Cadence pushed my wheelchair through the corridors to my rooms. Despite three blankets and a warming spell, I was still chilled to the bone.

"It's technical, but it's still your magic potential," Armor said, "Unconscious potential this time."

"So, how did Twilight take the news?" I asked, "Of your impending nuptials?"

Cadence and Armor both frowned.

"We were hoping to tell her close to the actual date," Armor said, the perfect officer insulting a stupid civilian of higher rank.

"Well, tell Luna she communicated your displeasure quite clearly," I said, "That nightmare about shapechanging, bug ponies replacing Cadence so they could eat all of Equestria's love was frightening, especially what they did to you, Armor, and locking Cadence away to die alone until Twilight found her, mistook her for the imposter and killed her. Having the queen bug blast Celestia into unconsciousness then cocoon her to eat her forever was what made it obvious it was Luna, she's still got sister issues."

I could practically hear the silent exchange of glances, gestures and mouthed words as I rolled and shivered down the corridor. Someone would be discussing this with others in detail later.

The talk of nightmares was believed because I've been having them, and Nightmare is the one rescuing me. I've detailed them extensively in my other journal, one of the reasons I haven't been keeping this one up, and Clear Brook has upped our sessions from twice a week to daily.

They've had a lot of pony, rather than anthro imagery, and Nightmare is the one who breaks in and breaks them up. To say that having them is causing some problems is an understatement.

"So what happened after these horses with cutie marks saw you working on your rock farm?" Clear Brook asked.

My quarters were a safer haven than her office with all the stacked bookcases giving me a feeling of claustrophobia or being buried alive under piles of journals and file folders.

"I could immediately tell they were my half-sisters and mother, although their cutie marks would have told me that eventually if their voices and bad behavior didn't give them away first," I said, and ignored Clear Brook's 'what were their cutie marks?' question, "I was a horse like them, moving the rocks around with my muzzle, never my hooves. They started arguing over which rocks I should do next, and putting those rocks in the basket on my back. More rocks, more arguing, until I couldn't stand under the load. Even when my legs collapsed, they kept piling it on, making it harder to breathe. Eventually they would have crushed my ribcage under the weight, but Nightmare shattered the dream and carried me out of there. She seemed extremely concerned, as this wasn't the first nightmare this week, or even that night."

"Was it actually Nightmare, or just an aspect of the dream?" Clear Brook said.

"It was the real her, she was a biped, all the horses were quadrupeds, like I was," I replied, "She was clearly not part of the temporary reality."

"Tell her to check with Princess Luna," Nightmare said in my head.

"What was that?" I asked aloud.

"I didn't say anything," Clear Brook said.

"I was talking to Nightmare, normally I don't vocalize it, but she surprised me," I said.

"Tell her Luna says you've been sublimating your anxiety," Nightmare said.

"Princess Luna was in my dreams with Nightmare and Her Highness says I've been sublimating my anxieties," I said.

"Which anxieties?" Clear Brook asked.

"Not anxieties, anxiety," Nightmare said, "Your anxiety of not measuring up, not being a hero, a stud or not doing your best."

"My anxiety of not measuring up to my own standards, or standards expected of me," I said, "I guess my concerns about my family getting along without me, and wondering what I'm accomplishing or failing to accomplish here. There's also the idea that while I resented my mother's lifestyle, I have the perfect opportunity to have a whole slew of ladies on a string, I haven't taken advantage. Most guys in my neighborhood would think I was insane for passing up the chance at all that tail."

"Cutie Mark Failure Insanity Syndrome," Clear Brook said, "When you fail what you consider your purpose and destiny. It seems a blank flank can suffer from that, if they go against the cultural narrative. Frankly, this is a discussion Balustrade should be having: the less biological items of the birds and the breezies. Maybe Applejack as well, as she seems to have caught your eye, and according to the Princess you harboring Nightmare may be having an effect on certain others."

Including Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, I thought but didn't say, And you too Nightmare.

That earned me a hearty laugh.

The good soldier did come in later, and explained that there was a Casanova subculture, the general culture was pair bonding, a couple. Although it wasn't exclusive, and some relationships got both complicated and bisexual. His own brother's 'family' had eleven adults, with about two-thirds swapping partners among the others, implication that it was not all heterosexual, but nopony strayed out of the bounds of the marriage.

Questions about dissolving the bonds were met with incredulity. 'Why would anypony want that?' showed that this world was very different than Western Civilization on Earth. As for the idea about a father abandoning his children was also met with incredulity, the idea that the government would encourage women to toss out the men, I think he would have preferred facing Nightmare Moon.

"Why would anypony do that?" Balustrade asked.

"Because as long as there's no father in the home, the government pays the upkeep of the children," I explained the modern American Welfare State, "So the women have partners, get pregnant but never marry any of the fathers. Why do you think I keep referring to them as 'half-sisters', we share a mother, but all of them have different fathers."

He stared off into the distance as if Nightmare had manifested a long ways away.

"I think you broke him," Nightmare commented.

"But if the fathers aren't there to help raise the kids, how does a check replace that, is it enough to hire someone?" Balustrade asked.

"No," I replied, "The local street gangs do some of the raising, and you can imagine how well that turns out."

He was staring off into space again, not being able to cope with the thoughts. "And you thought the Bearers were trying to do anything like that?" he asked desperately.

"No, I'm explaining where my culture is coming from, if you're a male child, you're a welfare check. Once you graduate out of that, you're a stud for the people with money, or a gang member, or you figure out a way to get out before you ruin your life or get killed," I told him.

"Lad, it's not like that here," he said, or rather prayed to ward off the evil I'd painted for him.

"But I'm expecting it to be, at least my nightmares are," I said, and waited for him to grapple with that thought.

To say he tried and utterly failed to be useful wouldn't be disguising much. Ponies were something like the sitcoms from the 50's, with a dollop of Ancient Athens thrown in. The idea that you wouldn't have a couple, even a same-sex couple, raising kids threw him for a loop.

When looking into Derpy Hooves and her apparently being a single mother, she's a widow and her former husband's family is available to her as a support network. So, score one for the ponies about actually caring for people instead of just throwing money at them and no education in what to do with that money. I wish the school I went to actually taught economics and life lessons on budgeting and food prep, instead of the pablum we were taught. I got more about living through books on Nicola Tesla, Cassius Clay, Booker T. Washington, James Watt, Molly Pitcher and so forth than I got from history, government, or any enrichment classes.

Ironically, Nightmare figured out both why I hated my family and former situation, why I've been trying to keep most Bearers at arms-length, and what is the basis of my nightmares. And she gave me an object lesson into ponies, and a certain pony in particular, that is extremely shaming. Yes, Nightmare humbled herself and risked rejection and punishment to rescue someone important to her. If somepony is willing to sacrifice that much of her brittle ego for me, I need to back off on my games a bit and be more forthright in my interactions.

While I was simultaneously having a nightmare elsewhere in my head, I saw Celestia arrive in the anteroom. While I was buried up to my neck at the seaside with the tide coming in, Nightmare awaited her in the murky chamber. Celesta gasped as he discovered her horn and wings were gone.

"Bwah your powers are lost here!" Nightmare said, "You are not the dream weaver your sister is, and my domination is penultimate here."

"I would not be here without your consent," Celestia countered, checking her lack of royal regalia and the almost transparent robe worn over her costume.

"And you would not be here without your own efforts," Nightmare said, and held up her hands, "But no tricks with you, unlike your sister you are here out of concern for Gray Rock, as well as the realm, rather than a voyeur looking for any excuse." She started walking quickly across the huge anteroom.

Celestia swallowed then followed quickly catching up but scanning the shadows as she walked. "I've had this discussion with him before, as you well know," Celestia said as she looked over her own garb, and Nightmare's, "It seems your rather cold, and wouldn't naked be more efficient than a few scraps of cloth? For both of us?"

"Trust me, there's always the pursuit, something all of you have been lacking," Nightmare said over her shoulder.

"Something he's been rejecting," Celestia countered.

"Think on things, and his nightmares: your wings-and-arms hugs, most Bearers' all-encompassing pursue," Nightmare said as she practically got inside Celestia's robe with her, "Being sealed in an oversized drawer, being buried under Clear Brook's shelves and files, being crushed under an immense basket of rocks, and even now, buried up to his chin in sand. And the Bearer he is fixated on, she washed his back without hugging him, sat back to back while they ate in silence. Do you see the pattern?" She turned away and resumed walking past a huge number of doors standing amid the corridor with nothing holding them upright.

"Not claustrophobia, but being buried alive, physically or metaphorically," Celestia said and grinned at Nightmare's nod. "Why would you desire my help?" She looked at the backs of the doors, and saw they had none, they existed only in the direction they were facing, and looking in the other direction were hundreds of doors they had passed through unknowingly. "You obviously have a handle on it." She started walking again, only to nearly run into Nightmare.

"I hate you," Nightmare said, "I hate your perfect fur, I hate your pert, full breasts, I hate your long, slim waist, and your long, toned legs. That comes from Luna, who still looks like a gawky teenager, and not me. That hate and this parody of your beauty I was extruded into were scribed into my very being by your little sister." Nightmare said, then reined in her fury. "That said, I am willing to share him, if it means he survives more or less as he is, with the apple farmer, with you, or with both."

Celestia simply nodded and gestured for her to continue.

"There is a greater darkness in him than you can imagine," Nightmare gestured at a few doors that seemed a bit more strongly constructed than the norm. "And frankly, knowing it's there, knowing what could befall me, makes me incredibly orgiastic."

"He'd never do that," Celestia said.

"He'd never do that undeserved," Nightmare said and grinned, "I'm not pristine little you. I like it rough, slapped around or an arm twisted, I enjoy being threatened, even broken." She shrugged. "He's managed it with barely a bruise to me, but the idea he could gouge out my eyes or stab me in the belly without the slightest warning is exciting."

Nightmare laughed at Celestia revulsion and disapproval. "Like I said, us both having him doesn't mean we're sharing everything. There are also patches of light that you'd break down weeping about, that are as disgusting as what makes me wet is to you."

"Thank you for that crude imagery," Celestia said.

"I've got access to what he smells, and although he doesn't know, I do," Nightmare said and grinned at the blushing Celestia, "So quit lying to me, and quit lying to yourself. We - have to rescue him. You ponies are snuffing out those shining spaces, one-by-one, and while that means more for me, it hurts him each time one goes. I won't have that."

"You're in love with him," Celesta said, as if discovering the world actually orbited the sun.

"If wanting the best for him, despite not winning myself, then maybe I am," Nightmare said, "But the real case is I can't save him alone. I can break up his nightmares," she said as she reached a door, "But I can't stop them. I've tried. Luna can't, you can't, maybe we can. I, here we, can stay for a day, a week, a month or a lifetime and it will still be tonight. Do you love him enough to work with me to save him, not from this nightmare, but all the others lined up by your ponies over the past month?"

Celestia nodded.

"Then we go," Nightmare said and opened the door.

The appearance among the squabbling ponies of Nightmare and Celestia was shocking, especially since they were the characters from the show not the anthrofied people I was used to.

"Who cares whose fault it is?! Why aren't you doing anything to help?" Nightmare thundered at my ponified household. She chased them off to a chorus of the usual insults they'd apply to anyone who told them to get off their asses and fix the problem themselves.

Celestia's horn glowed, holding off the sea water that was lapping up under my chin and pulling me out of the sand which my half-siblings had buried me in. "Normally they bury you above the tideline and facing the water," Celestia commented as she approached wings outstretched, then she stopped and retracted one wing and brushed off the sand that still clung to me with the other.

Nightmare came back, looking thoroughly vexed. More angry than I'd ever seen her. "They won't be returning to trouble you."

"Did you kill them?" Celestia asked.

Nightmare stared at her as if she were stupid. "This is a dream. The only three real people in it are standing right here. If I were to bury the entire population of Canterlot in the beach as he was, and walked along reaping with a scythe, not one of them would actually be aware. They are windup toys going through the motions."

Celestia nodded. "I apologize," she said and dipped her head.

"Fine," Nightmare said and as her magic enveloped me and set me on Celestia's back, "As penance you can deal with getting all the sand out of your fur. There's a hot spring this way."

Celestia lifted her wings to hold my legs against her barrel as she trotted after Nightmare. We'd traveled a bit before she asked, "Why are ponies always quadrupeds in your dreams? Luna mentioned the same."

Actually, I'd written it in my journals, but neither of us wanted to reveal that, I thought.

"Because 'pony' means a short, stocky quadruped in my world," I said, "So if you say 'pony' that's what my mind defaults to. I guess."

We arrived at the hot spring, and Nightmare was already up to her neck in the water, but when Celestia readied herself to jump in, "Hold it! Hold it!"

She stopped. "You can't swim?" she asked, more of concern than teasing.

"Not after being buried for a couple hours, and I'm also not as fireproof as you two," I replied.

"We'll take it slow," she said as she walked in, stopping when the soles of my feet touched the water. It was just uncomfortably warm, but not hot. She walked in farther until I could slide off her back into the water. Both Celestia and Nightmare were at hand in case I couldn't handle it. I briefly submerged to get the sand out of my hair, and laughed when I surfaced a moment later.

"It's good to hear you laugh," Nightmare said, making me glad the water was already making me flush.

"Thanks, I was just thinking you two look like swans floating around on the surface," I said, "While I've sunk up to my neck."

"It isn't natural buoyancy," Celestia said, "Part is magic, and part is this is dream-stuff not actual water, like us being ponies, we react to the physical laws you expect."

Nightmare plunged completely under the water and surfaced with just her head. "But magic can make things more real or less." She plunged again and swam up between my legs so I rested astride her. "Just relax. We can watch over you."

The heat and my ordeal was making me sleepy, despite this being dream. "I think I want to rest ashore. I trust you, but I don't know what'll happen if I fall asleep in a dream."

"You'll wonder if you're a butterfly dreaming of being a man," Nightmare said softly.

Celestia giggling at that seemed strange, until I remembered their earlier conversation. The odd disconnect with being there to listen, while knowing I was buried in the beach with the tide coming in nagged at me.

The dreams lasted the rest of the night, but each dream lasted a day, and whatever Nightmare and Celestia did the nightmares ended or could be easily forgotten.

Although the truce between the two didn't hold perfectly. It did indicate that the tension between the two was a major source of the nightmares. And Heaven help me if Applejack adds to the chaos. Fortunately for all of us, when the nightmare broke it prevented them from continuing their physical altercation. How? The nightmare changed them into blow up dolls and the fight popped both of their corks. I started reinflating them, one a bit then the other, until they started screaming at each other, then I left them partially inflated and unable to move. Yes, I let them argue, although I suspect Celestia got an eye opener about just who did what as part of the Princess Luna to Nightmare Moon transformation. Arguing about 'other things' and Celestia breaking her word about 'helping' indicates they didn't know I'd heard their initial conversation and that Nightmare didn't understand that my reserve in - to hell with sugar coating it, I didn't screw Celestia and I know damn well she offered the chance.

I'll have to investigate some of Nightmare's claims, because while she's never lied to me, she's under no such restriction with anyone else. And no, I wasn't that interested in blowing them up enough to see if they were sex dolls or if I could pop them. I'm a sick bastard, but not in that direction. If I was into that kind of fetish, I know the mirror pond and Twilight's bursting spell would work perfectly well, or maybe Pinkie Pie could do that without any help, and frankly that make her less likely to get into my pants not more.

I woke back in my Canterlot quarters feeling tired, but a different tired than the restless exhaustion the siege of nightmares had produced. I did wonder how much would get back to Clear Brook as my 'public' journal did detail their initial rescue, but the rest of the dreams were summarized with 'Princess Celestia and Nightmare Moon continued to cooperate in keeping the nightmares at bay.'

As for getting funky with the princess, not while she was an equine-shaped pony, maybe later. Considering what she looks like as a humanoid, why settle when you can wait? I also think she enjoyed snuggling, touching and getting tickled. Weird thing is that both Nightmare and Celestia enjoyed giving me horseback rides, including a few flights, which was more terrifying than I thought it would be. I am glad they put their mane down as a blanket/saddle so I got neither chafed nor bounced too badly.

All in all it was enlightening for all of us. I think Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, and the sister-mares Luna and Celestia had a lot to talk about. A lot on band-aids got yanked off and a lot of abscesses got lanced.

Journal Entry Day 42

Yes another big gap. But Clear Brook and Balustrade were basically pulling their manes and tails out after the revelations, they kept trying to keep the illusion they weren't eavesdropping by reading my public journal while they were trying to get information from me to deal with Luna and Celestia's adolescence. When your two rulers are basically, emotionally growing up it gets messy. Especially if it must be kept under wraps from the scheming nobles and the various diplomats who are restrained by the Pax Incinderata, mess with me I'll fry you.

Clear proof I am not the genius I think I am, in that it took until two days ago to tell Clear Brook that Nightmare had read Celestia's mind while they were together, and knew Luna's. Or maybe I'm a coward, because I got dragooned into playing moderator for two hurt, angry people who could easily kill me themselves while they worked through their childhood traumas.

I think I mentioned earlier, unless I wrote it in the other journal and am forgetting, that psychological traumas have to be dealt with at the age they were inflicted, and ponies seem to follow Piaget's development patterns, so giving them adult answers won't solve the problem inflicted when they were six. You have to give them a six-year-old's solution.

It's like I was back home being forced into moderating (like a nuclear reactor, not someone with a gavel) the arguments among my half-sisters. The difference here was that all participants needed and wanted to solve it, not merely argue. The real problem was that all the experts were too chicken to do their jobs for fear of facing and angry diarch or a pink-slip.

The ally I got was the most unexpected for anyone who watched the show. Whose rather childish outlook on life and self were actually helpful. Whose utter inability to take offense, or exhibit caution while lancing an emotional boil sped the process along.

When they get over the hurts and pain of the catharsis, I hope a medal is forthcoming for my partner in crime. If they don't commit murder in the dead of the night first.

"She makes some good points, Auntie," Blueblood said to Celestia over the angry tears of Princess Luna, "You do tend to act as if you know exactly what's right for everypony." He raised an eyebrow, then ambled over to brush out Luna's hair. Half the kingdom would have killed to take the bothersome chore from his hands.

"And am I wrong," Celestia shot back, more angry than I'd ever seen her.

He looked at her passively, the strokes never faltering. Either the fop was grossly tougher or vastly more clueless than anyone had said, because he weathered the tirade.

"The point is, if you hand it to someone," I offered, "It's an imposition, not a gift. What we're doing here, for example, we're leading you to answers not saying, you have to do this."

"Quite," Blueblood said, "You mean well, Auntie, nopony denies that, but sometimes you come off as a know-it-all who gives someone an answer to make them go away."

Celestia's eyes crossed at that, and Luna let out one giggle. We all knew he was complaining about his treatment, but the comment still applied.

Before he could ruin the point he'd made, I interjected, "You are not intending to come off that way, but because your time is precious you seem that way. Working through a problem takes time. But Luna's felt you've done this to her from a thousand years ago."

"I was the eldest," Celestia said and bowed her head.

"And the only way people learn is by getting knocked down and getting up, or practicing against what they think are their limits," I said, "Imagine letting Prince Blueblood try out for the military."

"Ugh, you certainly are a kin to Nightmare," Blueblood said, "Thank you for that atrocious image. I remember my service."

"You were a very different stallion when you finished, even if went easy on the training," I said, "And would you trade what you gained for what it cost? As bad as it was, you can look down on those nobles who didn't even try."

He considered. "That is true," he said, "An admittedly good example. Not that I would ever want to reprise it."

I turned back to Celestia. "You have to let Luna fail, be there to pick her up after of course, but let her fail." I turned to the eye-drying Luna. "And you are going to accept that she failed too. Exactly what you were angry about, she failed with no one to help her."

Celestia's head and shoulder were bowed in shame.

"Sister," Luna said, and got up to hug her sister.

Blueblood led me out, there would be some real work done, once the witnesses were out.

"Is it going well," Blueblood asked, his uncertainty showing for only me to see, "Are we helping them?"

Was this the arrogant prince, or had the Changelings come early? "I think we are," I said, "Why so nervous?"

Blueblood looked around, then practically glared at the wall. Muffled footsteps announce the retreat of spies. "I don't want Auntie's job, and another alicorn makes it plain I'll never have to worry about getting it. Have you seen what she has to put up with? All those brain-dead idiots imposing on her all the time?"

Wisdom, force of will, and the effort to ignore Nightmare killing herself with laughter allowed me to just smile and nod.

I had briefly considered that Blueblood was secretly a hidden genius, then I remembered the Dunning-Kruger Effect, where the worse you are at something, the more likely to think you're brilliant at it. If you lack the tools to do, you lack the tools to judge how well you or others do it.

Anyway, I think we did the alicorn-sisters some good, and I'm giving up and getting some rest. This has been a crazy month and I don't expect it to get better soon.