The Nowhere King

Smolder could hear a faint buzzing sound to one side of her head. The dragon’s eyes were closed, but she knew without looking that it was Ocellus.

“Smolder?”

The dragon mumbled noncommittally.

“Smolder, you’re chewing on the table.”

No, that was silly. She was chewing on a big pile of emeralds. Obviously.

“Smolder!”

They weren’t very tasty emeralds, she admitted to herself, but they were hers! The changeling was trying to steal her gems! No. No, that didn’t sound right—not like Ocellus at all. Unless she was borrowing gems to adorn the pale green lace on their matching, frilly dresses she had bought for their next tea night. Yes, that was probably it. The dragon sighed contentedly.

“Ah! Smolder!”

The sound of changeling magic caused the dragon’s eyes to snap open. A small stack of paper was on the library table was on fire. A wide, gray foot crushed the papers and snuffed the flames, while very carefully avoiding breaking the table. A very disappointed-looking elephant stared down at Smolder.

“Uh. Sorry?” the dragon said with a shrug.

“Those were my notes from this morning’s class,” the Ocellus-sounding elephant complained. A flash of magic brought the changeling back to her normal form. “I was going to copy them for Gallus and Sandbar since they weren’t there.” She sighed. “Poor guys have been through a lot—they were probably sleeping in.”

“Or screwing,” Smolder suggested wryly. An intense yawn caused flames shot out of her open mouth. “Oops.”

“Are… are you okay?” Ocellus asked. Smolder could hear the genuine concern in her voice. “You seem really tired lately.”

Smolder crossed her arms over her chest and glared. “I’m fine. Just taking a power nap.”

“In the library?” Ocellus asked, one eye narrowed skeptically. “In the middle of our one-on-one study session?”

Smolder was trapped. She didn’t want to admit to the real reason she was tired, and she didn’t want to make Ocellus think she didn’t value their study sessions. Even if she really enjoyed the post-study snuggles more. “Just didn’t sleep well,” she hedged.

Ocellus gasped and threw her hooves around Smolder’s neck. “More nightmares?” she asked.

The dragon fought the urge to toss the changeling onto her butt. Public displays of affection were not a dragon thing. But Smolder was learning to appreciate it. Sort of. At least from small changelings that sometimes smelled of sulfur and raspberries. “Yeah,” she admitted. “And before you ask, it was just normal ones.”

“Oooh,” Ocellus purred, “I’m so sorry!”

Smolder shifted, pulling herself out of the changeling’s encircling hooves. “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” she said. “Let get on with studying so we can have time to do some private tutoring later.”

Ocellus blushed a light shade of purple and the merest hint of jalapeno entered her scent. “I forget,” she said, setting herself onto the bench beside the dragon, “are we on laughter or kindness?”

Smolder grinned in anticipation.

“This will not stand, sister!”

Princess Celestia sighed. “It’s good to see you too, Luna.”

“Morning niceties can wait,” Luna said brusquely, stepping past her sister. “I have been remiss in my duties in guarding the realm of dreams.” She marched into her bed chambers.

Princess Celestia fought the urge to sigh again. Instead, she took a deep breath. She felt the air move into her and let it flow slowly back out soundlessly. “What do you mean, ‘remiss’?”

Luna’s head snapped back out of the doorway. “Inattentive. Lackadaisical. Unmindful.” She shook her head ruefully. “Honestly, sister, I understand you enjoy modern parlance, but you are letting your vocabulary suffer.”

“That’s not-!” Luna had already ducked back into her room. “…what I meant,” Celestia finished lamely. She took a deep breath. Then another, while considering the flammability of the wooden door to Luna’s bed chambers. She knocked on the door.

Luna, adorned in full regalia, threw open the door.

“I meant, how were you re-“

“Ponies walk the dream, sister!” Luna interrupted. She straightened her crown with a brief burst of magic. “Dream Striders come anew, but learn from a dark tutor, I fear.”

Celestia blinked. Dream Striders. So far as she knew, nopony except her sister had walked in dreams in a thousand years. And if there was some villain at work… She nodded her head. “How can I help?”

Luna gave her a sad look. “I do not know that you can, directly.” She pursed her lips. “Perhaps put your Listeners to work asking about unusual nightmares.”

Celestia nodded. Her informal cadre of secret hunters would be well suited to such a task—also, she looked forward to reading reports about more substantive events than last-minute contract cancellations and dishonest flower merchants.

“Oh,” Luna said, brushing quickly past her sister, “and perhaps let the Dragon Lord know I will be visiting dreams in her lands. Starting with hers.”

“What?” Celestia blinked. She turned her head, but Luna was already nearly out of sight. “Luna!” She trotted after her little sister at a most un-princess-like pace. “Luna!”

Gallus waived his friends on as they left the barn. “I’ve gotta talk with the professor for a minute. You guys go on ahead.”

“Nerrrrd!” called Smolder, with her usual playful charm, floating out into the bright afternoon sky.

Gallus flipped her the bird, as griffons called it, flicking the longest pinion feather on each wing up at her.

“Remind me if’n I’m mistaken, but ain’t that a rude gesture?”

Gallus cringed. “Just, uh, showing her my honest feelings?”

Thankfully, Applejack laughed. “Fair enough,” she said, “just don’t let me catchin’ ya doin’ it in class. Ain’t proper.”

“No, totally,” Gallus replied. “So, uh…”

Applejack began pushing benches under the tables. “Ya got something t’ ask, just spit it out, Sugarcube.”

“How do Earth ponies ask someone to marry them?”

“That’s awful sweet, hon,” Applejack deadpanned, “but I’m yer teacher an’ all.”

Gallus grimaced. “Uh, no. I don’t want to marry you.” He realized how that sounded. “Not that you’re not great and everything! And, uh, nice… looking?”

The earth pony’s face broke into a large grin and she whooped in laughter. “Wooo, boy, you shoulda seen yer face! Hah!” She wiped a small tear from her eye. “Hoo, goody. Nah, I assume this is about Sandbar?”

Gallus felt warmth creep into his face. “Yeah. He said he wants… and I guess, I want… to ask him in the earth pony way.”

Applejack shook her head slowly side-to-side. “Never thought I’d see the day with griffons and ponies gettin’ on like y’all two do. ‘Specially two stallions. Guys. Whatever.” She gave herself a shake. “Not that I ain’t happy for ya!”

Gallus nodded. He had never expected to fall in love with a pony, either, but here he was.

“But, the ‘earth pony way,’” she said, considering. “I think somepony’s pullin’ yer leg.”

Gallus blinked slowly. “Wait, what? Is there not an earth pony tradition?”

“Nah,” His professor laughed loudly. She tipped her hat up on her head. “It ain’t that. It just… there ain’t one tradition—there’s near enough to a hundred depending on tribe and geography and what not.”

“Over a hundred…” Gallus felt a growing pit of concern in his stomach.

“Sure ‘nuf,” Professor Applejack said, nodding her head. “Take mah cousins from Manehatten. They’ve got a whole thing where they talk about their love in a big public ceremony.” She bucked the bench with her back legs, and it flipped up in the air and landed squarely atop another long table with a loud sound. She nodded to herself. “Then you’ve got the Pie family—they exchange these really strangely-shaped, tiny rocks.”

The griffon frowned. “But what about Sandbar?”

Professor Applejack shrugged. “Dunno. His family only moved here a few generations back, and I can’t say I know ‘em too well.”

Gallus groaned and pulled a claw through his crest.

“Sorry I ain’t more help. Maybe go ask Pinkie. She knows everypony.”

“Ooooooh! Please let me host the wedding reception?! Please? Pretty please!”

Gallus grimaced and immediately regretted asking professor Pinkie Pie about the proposal.

The pink mare somehow bounced in place on her tail. “Wedding receptions are my twenty-fourth favorite kind of party!

“That bad?”

Pinkie Pie collapsed in a fit of laughter. “Don’t be silly. That’s still pretty high up there. Not every party can be a surprise birthiversary bash! Ooh, plus this’ll be my first gay wedding in at least five years.” She gasped suddenly, bolting upright. “AND the first wedding among my students! Ohmygosh ohmygosh! That bumps up the excitement by several party hats. It’ll be the party of the MONTH! If not the season!” She stared at him with an intense look. “I have to do this party!”

“Sure,” Gallus said, relenting to the Pinkie pressure, “Sure, whatever.” The party pony began making a high-pitched squeal. Gallus waved a claw in her face to try and refocus her attention. “But none of that happens if I can’t figure out how to ask Sandbar to marry me.”

Pinkie Pie’s face got very serious. “Yes. Okay, now, where did I put the thing…” she zipped off before returning with a huge scroll. She dropped one end and Gallus watched in shock as it rolled away nearly to the door. “Okay, let’s see. Sandbar, Sandbar… Ah!” She stabbed a hoof at one very small piece of the parchment at a tiny, very neatly illustrated drawing of Sandbar’s cutie mark. The turtle triad had minute, spidery lines in a variety of colors leading away to other drawings. “Hmm. Son of Beachcomber and High Tide. Their parents lived here, too, but theeeeeeeeir parents,” the pink mare zipped down the paper, tracing a violet line’s path with one hoof, “immigrated from Fillydelphia. And his mom’s mom’s mom’s dad was from Canterlot. And his dad’s side has roots innnnnnnn,” she hopped over to the other side of the scroll and ran back down its length, nearly throwing the griffon to the ground, “Seaddle.” She rubbed a hoof through her hair. “Family with at least sixty-two percent aquatic-related cutie marks, bi-coastal, very few pegasus or unicorn relatives…”

The pink pony went very, very still, except for her eyes, which darted around the paper. Pinkie’s body then began to shake.

“Uhh, professor?” Gallus reached out a tentative claw. He had broken her, somehow.

“Flower exchange!” She shouted suddenly, her limbs shooting out at every angle. She zipped out of the room and returned carrying a small magazine before Gallus could even draw his claw back.

“What?”

“There’s a ninety-six percent chance his family exchanges vows in the form of a flower ceremony.”

Gallus blinked, taken aback. “Ninety-six?”

Pinkie Pie gave the griffon a lopsided shrug. “Ain’t nopinkie perfect.” After a moment, she added under her breath, “some Pinkies notably less perfect than others.”

Gallus looked at the magazine she was holding. “Flowers, huh? What kind of flowers?”

Pinkie sounded amused. “I dunno. Why would I know some tiny little detail like that, silly?”

Gallus glanced at the labyrinthine scroll and back to her. “…no reason.”

“Okie dokie! Don’t forget that I get to do the reception!”

Ember lay panting on the ground of her cave. She took a moment to enjoy the glittering jewels that surrounded her. They brought her such joy. None so much as the jewel-colored changeling who lay beside her, his carapace shivering with each ragged breath. He had taken to his assertiveness practice with extra zeal since she had suggested alternative training methods. Her lower half ached so pleasantly, it was almost as if she’d just been with a dragon instead of a milquetoast changeling king. Normally so kind, sweet, and mild. Which she loved about him. But oh, how she also enjoyed it when he wasn’t any of those things.

A chiming bell sounded outside the cave. Ember twisted her head, listening to the unfamiliar, crystalline tone.

“You should go see what it is,” Thorax suggested from her side.

“What happened to assertive?” the dragon asked with a smile.

“You fucked it out of me,” the changeling said with a sigh. Ember tickled his chin with a long talon. He hated using rough language, and she loved that he’d use it around her.

“Back in a sec,” she said. She flapped her wings and scowled at the interrupting noise. As she exited the cave, she discovered the source of the ringing—a large pony was using her magic to swing a crystal bell.

“Greetings Dragon Lord,” the pony said, bowing her head slightly.

“What in Smaug’s scaly ass are you doing here in my territory, pony?”

The dark-coated pony smiled slowly and shook her head. “First, let us be clear that we are not in your territory, but in mine.” The badlands cracked open under Ember’s feet and pink and yellow flowers sprouted from the fissures. The air cooled and the pony spread her wings. “You are dreaming, Dragon Lord.”

Ember’s mind began to clear, and she understood. It felt like the moment whisky left the body, even inlcuding the dull brain ache. “Ugh,” she said, blinking slowly, “Princess Luna, right? I’ve heard about your abilities. Still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here. And why I shouldn’t send an army to raze Canterlot for your interruption of a very, very good dream.”

“Yes, yes,” Princess Luna replied, sounding bored. “Very threatening, indeed. No doubt you’ve heard of the Great Dragon War? Or, likely to you, the Great Pony War?”

Ember scowled silently. Maybe one of the oral historians remembered.

“No? Let me simply say there is good reason ponies and dragons now share an easy truce.” She sighed slowly. “But I apologize. I mean no disrespect to you or your kin.” She bowed down on one front leg. “I come seeking assistance while offering the same in return.”

Ember shrugged. “I’m not in the mood to start a war today, anyway. Plus, Spike would be sad.”

The pony princess offered a small smirk. “My sister nearly had my mane when I told her I was doing this.”

Ember laughed. “Alright, then, what do you need, Princess?”

Smolder lay quietly, unwilling to disturb the dozing changeling laying on her arm. Ocellus liked taking naps after studying, which usually suited Smolder just fine. Recently, though, the dragon had resisted sleep to avoid winding up in another horrific nightmare with the Nowhere King. Not that she was scared. Just… reasonably cautious.

The late afternoon sunlight streamed in through the large window, the rays absorbing into the dragon’s orange scales. It was so nice. So relaxing. She was a lucky dragon, she reflected: she had worried she would have to give up some part of herself, some essential dragon-ness, to accept who she was; but here in this pony land, she could be a dragon and still be soft, like the blankets beneath her. It would be more difficult back home.

Her eyes drooped slowly downward, against her will.

“Okay,” Sandbar said, his voice distressed as he took a seat beside Gallus in the library. “The bad news is that you have two essays to make up for Headmare Twilight, a baking project for Professor Pinkie, and an overdue animal lab with Professor Fluttershy.”

Gallus groaned.

“The good news!” his boyfriend continued in an obviously-forced positive tone, “is that I’ve gotten extensions on everything for you until Moonday.”

The griffon rubbed a claw down his face. “So I’m going to have to work all weekend.”

Sandbar nodded. “Or take a zero. I figured this was better.”

Gallus sighed and put a claw on his pony’s arm. “It is. Thank you,” he said. “Sometimes, though, don’t you just wish we could get away from it all?”

The world shimmered, losing all color and flashing black in an instant. Shape and color flashed back into being a heartbeat later.

Gallus heard a panicked whinnying sound beside him. “What just happened?”

Gallus eyed the library. It is was now empty save for himself and Sandbar, and shaded in the familiar half-light of the Umbral Realm. “Oh for fuck’s sake,” he whined. “This is getting ridiculous.”