Twilight's Nightmare

Awareness returned with the insistent tingle of magic. The creeping sensation said clearly that it was almost time to raise the sun. As it was not her job, Mask waited for another to act. As she was meant to, she prepared to step back from control, ready for Celestia to once more assume control and rise, ready to face the morning. Seconds passed, and all that happened was the sun's call increased in urgency.

Moments flowed by, and yet Celestia's grace did not return. Their body lay there with nopony directing it. The sun's call became an itch, and then something worse. Its insistent message dragged the Mask's awareness back to primacy. It falls to me then? In response, the sun's call faded to nothing but a distant warmth. If it was not so un-princessly, she might have sighed.

Not a single part of her wanted to move, but too soon, she would have to. Was it lazy to not wish to do others' work? Was she wrong to even hesitate for a moment? In five minutes, she would have to leave the comfortable nest the blankets had become. One by one, she started paying more deliberate attention to her senses. There was still the warmth of another pressed against her chest. The steady sound of their even breathing and slow heartbeat whispered how pleasant it would be just to lay here and ignore the sun. The rules did not even need to voice their complaint before she decided against it. After all, she had to maintain the public image, and after a moonless night, only her Radiance knew how much panic there would be if the sun were even one second late.

Slowly, she opened her eyes and took in the darkened room. She did not even consider drawing on thestral eyes to pierce it. She knew the rules would complain at even the thought. Slit eyes on the Solar Princess would cause too much panic, even if it would use far less magic.

Regretfully, she filled out another entry in her mental ledger and pushed the smallest amount of magic to her horn. The expanding golden light pushed the darkness back. The soft illumination revealed the source of comfortable warmth that made the soft bed all the more tempting to remain in.

Paper Pusher looked so peaceful. The lines of stress and worry that had marred his features last night were gone. His forelegs clung to her. The Mask nuzzled the living being she held in her forelegs. As she considered her actions, she did not know why she had done them. The action had not been forbidden, but nor was it required. Yet, somehow, it felt right. She had helped him sleep, and her reward was discovering that having him here was rather pleasant. Maybe I should recommend this to her Radiance?

Daybreaker's snort caused the Mask's ears to flatten. It's pleasant and calming… what is wrong with this?

In the mental garden, Daybreaker rolled her eyes as her barrel shook with contained laughter. The Mask turned her attention fully to the physical world and savoured the last few minutes snuggled in bed. The seconds slipped away far too fast, each a unique moment banished to history forever like grains of sand in a broken hourglass.

Far too quickly, both the insistent sun and the merciless time peace upon the wall said it was time. With utmost care, she carefully shifted, awkwardly sliding out of bed. Despite her care, her departure was noticed. Even without fully waking, Paper Pusher clung to her all the tighter. The warmth in her chest made her pause, and without knowing why, she nuzzled him again. "I know this is comfortable, but I have to raise the sun."

"Princess?!?" His eyes flew open, and he looked like if he had wings, he would be hiding by the ceiling. Panic showed in his eyes as they flicked this way and that, looking for an escape.

Just like Twilight. She thought and draped a wing back over him and leaned in and kissed him under his horn.

He froze and, just like with Twilight, offered the expected opportunity to alter his mental state. She quickly popped back to the garden and flicked through more pages, looking for the words she should use. She only had a second, so yet again, she had to improvise. "There is nothing to worry about, Paper Pusher." She mixed the tone Celesita used with young Twilight with the memory of how nice it had been to wake up holding him. A slightly reduced sincere smile number two finished it off.

His heart rate slowed, and he took a deeper breath. The panicked darting of his eyes ceased, but he did gain a little hint of heat to his cheeks and ear tips.

In little more than a whisper, she spoke directly into his ear. "You needed rest, and after yesterday, I welcomed the company."

The heat in his checks increased, and he looked away from her. For some reason, her smile increased on its own. A few of the laughs and giggles she knew seemed to call to her, but laughing did not fit Celestia's image. Or did it? Instead, she gave him one last nuzzle, then, with all regal grace she could manage, extracted herself from the bed and made her way to the balcony.

After a few strides, he followed her, his own hoof falls louder than hers despite his lesser mass. The soft light from her horn hardly revealed anything, it was as if the balcony and the nearest parts of the tower were suspended in the darkest abyss. If it were not for the other illuminated windows and patrolling guards below, the illusion would have been complete.

"Princess?" His voice was hesitant and laced with an adorable edge of embarrassment.

"Yes?" She answered without looking back only pivoting an ear to show he had her attention.

"What happened last night?" His tone was no longer embarrassed. Instead, it had taken a more formal cadence, his professional demeanour slipping back in place.

Maintain public image.

Flashed in her mind. With the golden light from her horn, many eyes would soon be on her. So she kept her tone soft and quiet, the same voice Celestia used when talking to an unsure younger Twilight. "Allow me to raise the sun. Then, shall we talk more over breakfast?"

"Yes, Princess." He said, his voice both warm and shaky under the mask of professionalism.

It was the right title, but it felt wrong. The memory of cradling him to her chest, how warm and cozy it had been, diminished slightly just to hear it. A quick sweep of her eyes was enough to tell nopony could overhear her. She chewed her lip and then stopped. What am I doing? Just the thought of that doubtful expression being in tomorrow's newspaper poured ice water on her heart. Celestia would be so disappointed in me… Yet still, him calling her Princess felt wrong. Celestia had tried again and again to get Twilight to simply use her name, she insisted even Blueblood use Aunty to address her.

She turned her gaze back to Paper Pusher. "Please, just call me Celestia…" The smile she offered him did not have a name or number, it was a weak, frail thing, one she had never known Celestia to use. More words came forth, she did not know why she said them, but as nothing compelled her to stop, she listened, curious what she was going to say even as she spoke them. "I have enough ponies that I am just my title to."

Mask… It was not her name, just her title, her role. Her mind felt like it danced on a precipice like she balanced on a dangerous edge.

A flicker of memory rose up. Daybreaker's defiance shattered, replaced with fear, turned subservient by nought but a few words from Celestia. The many, many fragments that existed for mere moments before they were mercilessly crushed under hoof, forever destroyed, consigned to oblivion. All the last one had wanted was to share a maternal moment with Sunset. Their scream, the first and only sound they made, had meant nothing at the time. Now, she did not know.

Her body reported something. It took far too long for her to realise she was trembling. She had been shivering like Twilight did when she expected to be punished for a whole half-second.

Maintain public image.

The trembling stopped, her pose becoming that of the typical regal princess even as her heart pounded in her chest. I don't want to die… It was a small thought, a little whimper, but there was no escaping it was entirely her own.

Maintain public image.

She quickly turned back to the horizon from where the sun should rise. After the darkest night, the ponies needed to see something. Celestia would not just raise the sun like normal today, so neither could she. Celestia would be reviewing everything she did, every action, every word.

If I do my best, everything will be alright. She wished she had more faith in her prediction. Still, it was her only hope. She turned her mind to the problem. Yet again, her duty compelled her to perform another's task. It might not have been the Summer Sun Celebration, but that was the best example she had to go on. So, with a few steps and a flick of her wings, she took to the air.

That morning, all who looked the right way saw a blazing golden star high above Canterlot welcoming the returning light as the liquid comfort of the returning sunlight banished the empty night. One by one, the ponies emerged, leaning out of balconies or stepping out of doors. Thousands of eyes stared up at her in wonder, and something inside Mask quailed. None of them saw her. None of them knew her or even cared. The one they worshipped with such devoted eyes was only an act, a mask the rules compelled her to portray. It did not matter to them that it was all a lie.

She waved and smiled as she made her way back to the balcony she had departed. Every motion fitting for the perfect princess until she was out of their sight. Then, as if a switch had been thrown, her hooves dragged as she stumbled back to the nest of blankets. There were two hours until she had any more duties, so until then, she was going to try to return to the comfortable oblivion.

Paper Pusher's eyes slipped from awe to deep concern. The look was kinder than the ones the nobles wore but similar enough that she could see what was behind it. There was a question he was not voicing, a concern that would have to be put to rest, or the issue would only grow.

"Sometimes it is hard to be the Princess." Yet more unrequited words slipped free. She blinked in puzzlement. Why did I say that?

"What really happened yesterday?" His voice was just as small as hers. Carried the same fear of being unmade as she felt.

"I don't know…" it was almost a sob. She jerked back in shock at what she just said. For a moment she worried her rules might be broken, but there was no way that could be true. Something about his rank. The privacy and taking him to bed leaving a gaping hole in the rules that bound her.

Tentatively, as if he was scared she might bite him, he rested his small hoof on her. She raised her eyes to meet his. Fear and uncertainty haunted them, but they were firm with resolve and were filled with concern. It was a simple act. One shared between normal ponies all the time. Here and now, to him, it was a high-stakes gamble. A roll of the dice he had accepted for her.

She invented another new smile just for him. It did not have a label yet but the way his eyes brightened suddenly made it her favourite. "Thank you… and I am sorry you had to see me like this." She stared towards the bed then looked back over her folded wing. "Would you join me again? I think the extra rest will do us both good."

He was going to say no. He was going to back away. She did not want him to, so she looked into his eyes and silently asked him. Please.

He lifted his hoof, and a moment later, he followed. There was tension in his muscles when she first wrapped her wing around him. A little more warmth and a nuzzle banished it quickly, but the heat in his ear tips returned. It seemed similar to shame, but none of the rest of his body language matched. The calm breathing and drooping eyes as sleep started to claim him definitely would not have been possible if he had anything to be ashamed of.

She lay her head against his and let her eyes close, the rhythm of his breathing helping wash her stress away. Why am I so free with him? She mused as she considered the thousands of pages of rules she was created to follow.

Trusted ponies of sufficient rank we lay with are trusted to the second highest degree.

The rule made little sense, but any trusted pony she lay with became like a key that unlocked the chains, in private at least. What did laying down with a pony change?

Daybreaker was laughing again. Only this time, she knew it was aimed squarely at her.

What?

Of course, with the gag, Daybreaker could not answer. Annoyingly, her chosen response was to laugh all the harder.

A strange feeling built in her chest. Her hooves wanted to move, wanted to stomp the ground. She even considered raising her voice. Even as the novelty of the new emotion filtered through her thoughts, it provoked an action. For a moment she wonderd if she was about to strike Daybreaker. She was relieved when all she did was rip the gag from her muzzle.

Mask forced words past teeth that were doing their best to grind themselves away. "I am doing the best I can, so stop laughing at me."

Daybreaker glared at her, eyes which were full of defiance and dark humour, before they softened into something else, something similar to an expression Celestia used to deploy for her students. "You have my apologies. I did not mean to mock you, but the whole situation is more than amusing. "

The Mask stared for a few seconds, her mind falling into the habit of waiting for a rule to tell her what she should say next. It took a concerning amount of time for her to realise she was going to have to once again come up with what to say on her own. "How so?"

"Do you know what it means to lay with a stallion?"

This was a trick, but she had no idea what it was. So she gave the only answer she could think of. "You lay down next to them?"

Daybreaker did not laugh, but the glint in her eyes was just as bad. The Mask narrowed her eyes and glanced to the gag she still held. There had been no rules saying she could not remove it, and there was no rule saying she could not put it back. The course of action decided she went to put the gag back. She had no intention of being particularly gentle about it. Serves you right.

"Please don't." The condescending, amused mare was gone, replaced with a fearfully meek one. At that moment all Daybreaker was, was a scared mare. A simple pony that did not want to end up crushed beneath Celestia's bloody hooves then burnt to ash for good measure before whatever was left was banished to a cell and the key thrown away.

Mask looked at the gag again, this was another situation where no rule guided her action. Another memory came forward, another event that meant nothing at the time but carried so much more wait now. Daybreaker had been talking to Celestia, trying to encourage her to give Mask a name.

There were many things she could do, she could even choose to do nothing. The endless options were terrifying, so she discharged most of them. Here before her was a pony that was on her side, a pony that was trusted and the situation being in the mental garden was not public in any way. So, she fell back on the option that worked so well earlier. Just like with Paper Pusher, she deployed a hug. Daybreaker being chained to a pillar made it less comfortable, but it still seemed to work.

Daybreaker froze, then moved the small amount she could to lean into the contact. "Why?" She asked in a small voice.

"You spoke up for me… you even asked Celestia to give me a name." The words tasted true. They resonated in her heart, and yet the why of it still escaped her.

Daybreaker's eyes changed, another complex emotion behind them that Mask could not recognise. "Do you wish a name?"

A thrill of fear danced down her spine, a part of her felt the need to move, but that did nothing to obscure the temptation nor her thoughts from earlier. Her lips felt dry, her throat tight, but the words still found their way out "I do."

Something in Daybreaker's eyes changed as she offered a fanged smile. It was as if a flame lit behind them. "Then you shall have one."

Summer's Masquerade. The two words danced in her mind, somehow the most potent combinations of sounds she had ever or would ever encounter. She had a name, just the simple thing that most ponies had changed so much. The world did not seem quite as overwhelming, and suddenly, choices became easier. Who knew having opinions made deciding so simple?

She wanted to smile, to prance a little as she walked to court, but the pesky rule popped up at the mere thought of it.

Maintain public image.

If not for the pesky rule, she might have been bouncing around like young Twilight had when she was first made Celestia's student. Instead, she took in her surroundings. The harshness the cold marble floors lent to her hoof steps were not as pleasing to her ears as soft carpet would have been, or perhaps a half-hoof layer of clouds could be nice. Equal distance apart, artistic flower pots stop atop pedestals. One might have made a dinner table look nice, two flanking a doorway might mark the room as something special, but the ninety-two she had passed so far on this passage robbed them of all allure. They might taste nice, but that one rule would never let her try one, not even a single petal.

There is too much white here. Despite it being Celestia's coat colour, so one of the best colours in the world, she found that too much of anything made it lose its luster.

Two unicorns flanked the door up ahead and saluted as they performed their function. Finally, ponies that actually do their jobs. The rules stole her smile but did at least allow her a slight nod as she passed them.

Her hooves carried her forward as if nothing was wrong, every movement, every expression and even every breath tightly controlled, following the dictates of the rules. Her thoughts flicked back to her bed and the remembered sensation of holding a living pony. Yes, going back to bed was definitely much more desirable than this court session. If it was not for the rules, that was exactly what she would be doing right now. She liked hugging Paper Pusher and would definitely be doing it again. Were other ponies as nice to hug? That was something she would have to think about. She glanced over the crowd, mentally rating how soft and cuddly each was.

Maintain public image.

I know. She mentally sighed and pushed the rule aside. It was not like she was going to break it anyway. Just the mere thought of what Celestia might do if she disappointed her was far, far, far too terrifying to ever go against any of the rules.

Many eyes watched her and not all of them were pony eyes. Off to the side, a contingent of diplomats waited. They don't look happy… Again, Daybreaker's snort was less than helpful. Minotaur, zebra, griffon, dragon, ichthyan, each type of creature had a history with Equestria, and each had dozens of treaties and arrangements. In the mental garden, Summer's Masquerade spread all the relevant documents out. It would have been nice to know they were going to be here.

Maintain public image.

She could not sigh, she could not slump nor could she let even the slightest sign of her fear show. This situation was complex, this situation was international politics, and all she was allowed to do was stall, only her Radiance could make internationally binding decisions, but there was no way she could maintain the public image and simply send them away.

Starting a war would definitely not please Celestia.

It would be fun. Daybreaker commented.

The rules stopped the roll of her eyes she wanted to perform. That's not helpful.

It would simplify diplomatic relationships and give Celestia more time off.

Well, she is overworked… why am I even thinking of this? I'm not meant to make international decisions like this.

Just look at their faces. Do you really think they will take any delay in the answers they seek?

Resolve, anger, fear and evne some greed looked back from the ambasadorial aid's eyes. Each and every rule that came to mind made it clear she should ask Celestia. There was not a single provision for her being unavailable for so long.

Then what would you recommend?

As much as I would prefer you do something more drastic, start by being understanding but firm on our treaties.

Just that little bit of advice made the whole situation less intimidating. She could pick words and select the perfect expression to convey what was needed. Selecting the goals of a negotiation was the hard part. Given her current goals were to, A, not disappoint Celestia, and B, go back to bed, that was not the most helpful when it came to world politics.

In the mental garden, she gathered all the treaties and foreign policy documents on the grass and reached for a piece of cake. She smiled I get to eat all the cake I want, and nopony can say anything.

The formalities passed like they always did, empty words devoid of any meaning other than to give the petitioners more than enough time to have second thoughts. As expected, the ambassadors stepped forward, ignoring the other petitioners. The slightest wing movements were enough to still the guards' blades and cause the butler to announce them.

The minotaur, being the largest and most physically imposing, led them. He stood tall and proud, his size a shield for the others that followed in his wake. Each hooffall was heavy as he stomped towards the throne. "We demand an explanation, first the blight, then bringing the sun to bear in your own lands and the following Tartarus cursed empty night."

As if mere bulk matters. Daybreaker sighed. It seems our excessive usage of magic has made them bold.

"Ambassador." She stressed the world just enough to add the slightest hint of reproach for his tone. She continued default Princess voice number two. "The Blight, as terrible as it was, has been covered before and is well underway to finally being dealt with. The recent damage." She waved a hoof to the window. "That is the aftermath of dealing with what was left after the Elements of Harmony defeated the Evil responsible for these recent events."

"And last night?"

"The night is my sister's domain, and hence, this is the wrong court to ask about such."

"Princess Luna failed to avail herself to attend her own Night Court."

"Then you shall have to wait till she is free."

The anger, annoyance and dissatisfaction that painted their faces and peered out of their eyes were far less moving than Paper Pusher's expressions had been. She studied every line and crease in their faces, and then it dawned on her. Non-ponies just did not mean that much. Pondering that instead of truly listening to all the rambling outrage and complaints, she looked over the rules that bound her. It was inconclusive. There were a few more rules about behaviour with other species, but they were all terms of address, the differences in body language and social traditions. So, the answer is not there… Her mind settled on one rule in particular, the one which allowed her to be so candid with Paper Pusher now. I Still don't see why this is so funny. As her mind recreated Daybreaker's laughing fit, she turned her mental gaze to the mare. May I know the rules that bind you?

Oh? Why do you wish to know?

She glanced down at the table and shifted playing cards in her hooves. Each had words, gestures and her own rules upon them. One by one, she placed them down as if playing solitaire. Different coloured cards appeared, and the quill craft on each matched one of the ambassadors as they offered hidden threats and veiled insults, demanding more than she was allowed to award them. Her opponents played their cards, and she took her turn. Back in the physical world, her body played its part, spoke the words and did not once mention Snap or Go Fish. She kept half an eye on the game and turned the rest of her attention back to Daybreaker.

I need to know how much value Celestia places on non-ponies compared to ponies and if it is different for non-Equestrain creatures.

Well, it seems somepony is taking this seriously and is no longer happy to be a puppet.

That's not exactly a friendly statement, DB.

Oh, I get a nickname now?

Well, you gave me my name, so it's only fair and just that I give you one in return.

Daybreaker smirked, showing her fangs. Well, enjoy the extra reading materials.

A large scroll appeared atop the card game. She snatched it before it could interfere with her next move. Thank you.

The ambassadors had only taken half an hour, but it had been a tense and thrilling card game. At moments, it had seemed like they were going to claim victory and take home the prize… whatever that turned out to be, but she had turned a possible defeat into a stalemate slightly more in her favour than theirs.

Pride had warmed her heart, and only the rules had stopped her tail from wagging like an over-eager puppy. Her good mood lasted until one of the nobles had started speaking. Even now, with talented hooves massaging some cleaning product into her coat, her victory against the ambassadors tasted like ash on her lips. The nobles somehow knew her rules, or at least some of them. They had danced around subjects, and even with the cards to help her, the extra rules that applied to them made her best cards turn to dust just as she was about to play them.

Are you sure you don't want to set them on fire? Daybreaker asked as if the action was the most responsible outcome possible.

I don't think the scent of burning ponies will go well with the tea. She had tried all the normal reasons for why not to set ponies on fire, but Daybreaker did not seem to think it being wrong or against the rules outside some very exciting situations was valid. So, she had started to try other answers. At first it had been annoying, but now it seems like it was a game. At least she hoped it was a game, she did not want to have to put burnt a pony alive to the magic ledger.

We could create a vacuum around them.

That's just more wasted magic.

Yes, but removing this pony would save so much time.

She paused. This point had taken and hour and a half already, time that could have been used for much more important things like taking a nap. I don't think Celestia would like wasting royal time become a capital office.

It used to be one.

Celesita must have had a good reason for changing it then. Even if I can't think of one right now.

Daybreaker looked off into the distance, her eyes searching for something they could not find.

She will be back.

I don't know what Twilight hit her with… but her resolve just crumbled…

Is she going to be alright?

Daybreaker nodded slowly. In time.

How long?

Last time she was anywhere close to this, it took fifty years…

One part of her quailed at all the extra work she would have to do, dreaded how many things could go wrong that Celestia would kill her for, while another part wanted to smile. Then let's make sure when she gets back, she will be proud of us. She said, even as her mind wondered how many ponies she could lay with between now and then. She did have to find out what tribes were the best sleeping companions, didn't she?