Last Breath

by Zontan

Rating: everyone
Tags: Princess Luna, Original Character, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Sad
Length: 1245

Princess Luna doesn't only visit nightmares.

Princess Luna doesn't only visit nightmares.

Second place in the 13th Quills and Sofas Speedwriting contest. The prompt was "Drifting Away."

Published 2019-10-08 01:10:01 UTC
Last updated 2019-10-08 01:10:01 UTC

Last Breath

“Can I hold him?”

Daisy looked up from the bundle on her chest, her face tired but happy. Smiling, she nodded, and passed the newborn colt to the stallion standing next to the bed. He took the bundle reverently, staring down at his son, momentarily lost for words. Finally, he swallowed. “He’s beautiful. Just like you.”

The pegasus in the bed laughed, nuzzling into the stallion’s shoulder, her eyes still on the colt. “He does seem to have taken after me,” she murmured softly, gesturing to the newborn’s wings, still plastered firmly to his sides. “But he’s got your hair.”

Whittled Pine blinked, and then laughed. The newborn’s hair was practically nonexistent, but it did match the short-cropped silver hair of the earth pony stallion, visible now that he had removed his guardspony helmet. “Well, he’s got plenty of time to grow into something nicer, at least,” he replied.

From the shadows, Princess Luna watched the memory play out. She hated to interrupt such a happy scene, but there were things that needed to be done, and her time was short, as always. She waited until the colt had been handed back to the mare before stepping into view.

The stallion noticed her immediately, and hastily raised a foreleg in salute. “Princess Luna. It’s an honor. You didn’t have to come to this. Daisy, say… hello…” He trailed off, frowning, as his wife continued to play with their son like an alicorn wasn’t in the room.

Luna smiled and waited.

“Daisy?” the stallion asked. He turned to the princess. “This is a dream, isn’t it?”

Luna nodded. “It is, my little pony. She cannot see me, for she is not really there.”

Whittled Pine took a moment to consider that, then nodded. “I see.” He looked around. “Why are you here, then? Begging your pardon, but this doesn’t seem to be a nightmare.”

“It is not only nightmares I visit, Whittled.”

“Please, call me Whit. Everyone does.”

Luna smiled. “Whit, then. I have come because there are things that I must say to you, and it is important that you hear them. Tell me, do you recognize this scene?”

Whit nodded. “Of course. How could I forget the birth of my own son?”

“And how long ago would you say this happened?”

Whit frowned. “Just today…” He paused. “No, wait, that’s not right. I remember his first day of school, too. And when he got his cutie mark. So it must have been…” He trailed off again. “I’m not sure.”

“I thought it would be so. Whit, your foal was born thirty-seven years ago.”

Whit took a step back, and as his hoof touched the wall, the scene around them dissolved into darkness. A new scene formed around them, of a small, simple living room. Pictures were hung over the mantelpiece, most of them depicting a yellow pegasus as he grew up, his cutie mark a small camera with a bright flash at the top. An older mare with an orange coat and silver-yellow hair was sitting in a rocking chair nearby, drawing on a piece of parchment in her lap, though what she was drawing wouldn’t come into focus. Despite the apparent shift in time, Whittled Pine looked the same - still a healthy earth pony in his prime, his polished guard’s armor contrasting nicely with his bright green coat. His helmet had vanished, left behind in the previous memory.

Whit took a moment to look around. “I remember this,” he said slowly. “This was…” he cut himself off, and then turned to look away. “No, I don’t want to see this again. Why would you bring us here?”

Luna shook her head sadly. “I do not control this dream,” she said softly. “It is your mind that has brought us here.”

Whit’s expression hardened. “Well, then I want to go somewhere else. Anywhere—or anywhen—but here!”

Behind him, there was a sudden clatter. The mare had dropped her pen, and was suddenly breathing heavily, clutching at her chest. A moment later, the younger pegasus in the photos flew into the room. “Mom!” he called as he flew to her side. “Mom, are you alright?”

Whit growled, and took a step towards the princess, apparently uncaring of her status. “I said, take us somewhere else!”

The room shattered and fell away, and the world around them went black. Luna watched the stallion impassively, unperturbed by his stance. He was breathing heavily, but slowly the red drained from his face, and he sat down, hard. “My apologies,” he breathed, his voice choked. “Didn’t mean to threaten you.”

Luna shook her head. “You have done nothing wrong, Whit. I understand your feelings, truly. You have nothing to apologize for.”

Whit nodded, taking another moment to settle himself. “So… why are you here, then?”

“I have a message, and a request. From your son.”

Whit snorted at that. “Surely he could give me that himself. He’s never been afraid to speak his mind to me, that’s for sure.”

Behind him, another scene briefly formed, a yellow pegasus with tears streaming down his face screaming at an old, implacable soldier. The image had no sound, and it faded away almost as soon as it formed.

“I assure you he cannot,” Luna said simply. “Do you wish to hear it?”

Whit frowned. “If you’ve gone to all this trouble, of course I do.”

The princess nodded, before her voice changed, becoming both deeper and quieter as another pony’s words left her mouth.

“Hey, dad. I don’t know if you can hear this, but I just wanted to say… well, a lot of things, that I should have said sooner. I… blamed you for some stuff, I guess, that you didn’t really deserve. I guess… I guess I wanted you to miss Mom the same way I did, and I was mad that you didn’t. And I should have told you I’m sorry, and I didn’t, and now it could be too late. So, please… if you could wake up…” A brief pause, and then, even quieter, “I just need one more chance to make it right.”

There was a long stretch of silence. Finally, Whit ventured, “Am I… dead?”

“Nay, you are not. Not even I can pierce that veil. But you are… drifting closer, every moment.”

Whit took a long, shaky breath. “I… see. I suppose I can’t say I’m surprised.” He was silent, contemplative, before he added, “You… said you had a request, as well.”

Luna nodded. “The request is from me,” she said softly. “I only see what your dreams let me see, but both you and your son are good ponies. I do not wish this story to end this way. I would… ask for a response, that I may convey it to your son.”

Whit turned away. “I’m not sure you’ll like it.”

“I did not ask for a response I would like.”

Whit nodded. “Alright.” He turned, and took a breath, and talked.

His words came slowly at first, but then grew more confident. As he spoke, his silver hair steadily turned gray, and his body grew leaner and frailer. His armor fell away, piece by piece, until he was just an old stallion telling quiet stories.

Luna listened silently, lying there next to him, as scenes from his past formed and faded around them.

She laid with him until his words trailed off, his breathing slowed, and he drifted away.