Chapters Part 1: Awaken to a new day.
Luna rose, before the sun. Tossing off her sheets, she sat up in bed and streeeeetched on out. Nary a yawn escaped her as she hopped onto the floor, making her way to the bathroom. She splashed a little water across her face from the basin and ran a brush across her hair. Beyond the frame of the door, she could see the first light of morn crest the horizon, via her easternmost window growing a dull glow. And, surprising even herself, a happy little hum escaped her.
It was a melody she hadn’t recalled in some time. And as she hummed on, the memory became more clear. The song was a summer hymn of old, which she first heard Celestia practicing all alone in an opening in the Everfree. When Luna had snuck up on her, it became the first time she’d ever seen her older sister turn so red in the face. Luna laughed for days about it, stifling herself to a snicker to try and keep it secret at Celestia’s begging.
They were so young back then. Little did they know the fate that lied before them. A little pang clenched softly at Luna’s heart. Would that things had gone differently. The self commiseration passed quickly enough, though. Things were different now, and she felt much better.
Heading downstairs to start her day, Luna wore a smile of contentment. One which started to fade, for when she hit the landing, she spied them at last. Outside, several figures shuffled about, casting curious silhouettes upon her windows. There were, however, not that many books checked out to account for all of them. Something was amiss.
Hesitating briefly, Luna steeled herself, and made for the door. She undid the lock, and stepped out onto the stoop. “Hello, may I help you?”
There was maybe a baker’s dozen or so of them--ponies of every sort and color, from all walks of life, as denoted by their gaggle of varied accents. But what they all shared in common was a cardstock badge of sorts, pinned to sweaters, jacket lapels, and the odd hat, which read: “Press.”
With clicking cameras and notepads at the ready in a heartbeat, they rushed into an aimless blob around the mare of the hour. Questions flew like arrows, one after the other. “Miss Luna! Is it true you and princess Twilight are dating?!” “Luna, are you going to return to your throne?” “Luna, Luna! Ay, whaddya say to the rumors that Nightmare Moon never actually returned when you did, and it was all a hoax to get back into the good graces of ya sister?!”
“I’m…” muttered Luna. “Um.” she sputtered. “Well.” she stammered. The questions kept coming. She never got a chance to answer any of them. She barely had room to breathe.
“Alright, that’s enough!” came a projected voice which shook the very shutters on nearby windows. When all eyes followed to the source, they saw princess Sunset, with Twilight in tow.
When two alicorns set down in front of a third one, the excitement riled up in the crowd of journalists anew. They started to clamor over one another all the more aggressively. This woke the residents across the street, who sleepily leaned out their second floor windows to complain, only adding to the noise pollution.
“Quiet!” Sunset shouted them down, and a deafened silence settled over the lot of them.
Twilight stepped forward, nervous but polite. “We’re so sorry to cause a disturbance for you all.”
“But your majesties,” cried a passionate journalist, “the public has important questions, as to what it means for us that Luna is back in the queen’s life.” Murmurs passed around, about Luna and her capacity to wear a crown and allocate tax revenue once more. Even the previously angry locals calmed down to ponder this possibility.
Twilight bit her lip, but when she turned to Sunset, she got a nervous shrug. She cleared her throat and tried to address this as best she could. “You’re right, the citizenry does deserve to know. We can… clear a conference on the day after tomorrow, 10AM, Canterlot main hall. Would that be alright with you, Luna?”
Stammers came naturally. It had been a little while since Luna had been so put on the spot for the sake of a crowd. Now shouting one down, for miss Mare, that had been a bit of a different story. “Erm, well, I… I suppose that would be alright.”
The disturbed sleepers and inquiring press alike slowly grumbled out a sense of agreement among themselves. And as the crowd dispersed, Twilight and Sunset whisked Luna away, retreating inside. Meanwhile, the various journalists ambled off, each jotting down some variation of: “Luna was unable to comment on the rumors at this time, which is why this is merely a speculation piece for now. Keep reading to find out more as the story unfolds.”
All three alicorns breathed a sigh of relief, and Luna shouted: “What was all that about?”
“Bridle gossip.” said Sunset with a prolonged groan. “You were seen at a big event rubbing elbows with several ponies in high places. Now curious minds are churning the rumor mill.” She tiptoed over to the window to make sure they were well alone.
“Sorry I just committed you to a press conference like that.” lamented Twilight. “It was the only thing I could think to appease them.”
“It’s alright,” Luna told her, unconvincingly, “I suppose this was going to have to happen eventually.” Resigned to her fate, she leaned against the nearest bookshelf. “And surely the ponies of Equestria deserve to know the fate of their governance. But I had been looking forward to a little quiet finally.”
Sunset snickered, losing her focus from the door. “Wow, you might not wear a crown anymore, but you sure are being a drama queen.”
Luna’s nostrils flared. “I don’t think you’ve earned the right to joke around with me just yet.”
Twilight stared at the unease prevalent between them in that moment. She began to suspect this was not the first time they’d had an interaction like this, and her own focus on the task at hoof began to fade. “Whoa, hey, what’s this about?” The two of them looked away in guilt, so she picked one out. “Sunset?”
Sunset had no response, and Sunset knew that wasn’t good enough. Though, maybe now was not the best time for this. Even still, she had to say something, anything at all, to placate her. “Listen, Twil--agh!”
Hope-Heart bounced with surprise as she caught this stranger so off guard, she tumbled right back, one end going over the other. Gingerly, she set down a couple cups, and extended a hoof. And when Luna snickered, she shot her a disapproving look. “Whoa, I am so sorry about barging into you with the door like that. Here, are you oh… kay?”
Sunset took her hoof, but felt herself slipping back down. She haphazardly stood herself upright. Unconfident, she told her: “Thanks, I think.”
“Oh,” mused Hope in silent shock, “you’re princess Sunset.”
“That I am.” Briefly, Sunset’s eyes darted over this young mare.
Hope’s hooves covered up her mortified face. “I knocked over a sitting royal. This is the worst day of my life.”
“What? No, it is super okay. Really. It was an accident.” Sunset pat the stranger’s shoulder, whereupon she began to stumble back, losing her footing. By the time she reached out to the gray unicorn, she’d already halfway balanced herself against a table.
“What I’m wondering is what you’re doing here. Your shift isn’t until much later.” Luna went over to her, to lift her up.
She looked up to her with those red eyes. They were normally so piercing and brimming with the confidence of one who could see into your very heart. Now, the accidental act of nigh regicide sapped her of that honing gaze. “I was going to pass by here anyway, so I thought I’d drop in to bring you a coffee. Since you’ve taken to it so quickly.”
After a pause for it to register, the words finally formed in full. Tugging at her heart, Luna said: “Aw, that is so nice of you.”
“Are all the ponies who work here are melodramatic?” snarkily asked Sunset, who was promptly ignored.
A hoof with a lavender coat attached presented itself before them. “Hi, I’m Twilight. I don’t believe we’ve met.”
Hope-Heart’s heart leapt into her throat, and her hope sank the other way. She went limp again in Luna’s hooves. “Another princess saw me assault the first one. This is worse than I realized.”
“No,” Sunset insisted again firmly, waving her hooves outward as far as they’d reach, desperate for her attention so this would stick, “really. I am fine, see? No harm done.”
Propping Hope up, Luna snickered and muttered: “Besides, it was quite funny.”
Sunset bristled up and began a haughty march her way. “Now is not the time, moon girl.”
“Oh, but it was the time when you had a joke at my expense?” shot back Luna.
Twilight put herself between them. Mainly, though, she blocked Sunset. With eyes of a commanding, regal purple, she practically locked her in place. “That is enough, both of you.”
As the two of them looked away from her to pout, Hope slipped through Luna’s hooves. “Wow,” she stammered, swiping her cup from the tray, “would you look at the time? I think I’d best be going. Bye now, it was great meeting you.”
Luna followed her to the exit and watched her scurry away. With a sigh, she closed the door, and locked it for good measure. Heavily, slowly, as though her hooves were waylaid by chains, she turned back to them. “Alright. We’re well alone for the time being. Now what did you two really come all this way to do?” Her eyes narrowed. “And don’t lie to me.”
Twilight gulped. Nerves wracked her. If what Sunset told her was true, then even hearing their intention could escalate things very quickly. And she’d never been in a true fight before. While her mind retraced her lessons with Shin, the words tumbled forth: “Now Luna, I need you to please stay calm when I say this.”
“Calm?” Luna’s furrowed brow relaxed a moment, then tensed upward in the opposite direction. “Is it Celestia? Oh no, what’s happened?”
“It’s you, actually.” nervously blurted Twilight. “We would, both of us, like to, um… run a detection spell over you?”
Luna gaped at that pleading face. It betrayed a heavy tensing up in her legs. And sunset had stayed back, her head lowered slightly, and her antsy hooves ready to twitch into motion. What occured to Luna was they were both expecting not merely an unpleasant response, but a violent one. So she picked her next words very carefully. “Alright. Do what you feel you must, Twilight.”
Twilight watched her turn up her nose, close her eyes, and stand perfectly still. Turning to Sunset, she told her: “Alright, now use the incantation, just like I showed you earlier.”
Sunset ran that impromptu divination lesson from earlier back over her mind once more. She closed her eyes. Whispered words repeated softly over her lips, wafting on the air to meet the ones uttered by Twilight. Their horns both glowed, and a dull white light formed on top. Together, they walked in opposite circles around Luna, horns pointed at her. After several rotations, they left her.
“Satisfied?” Despite herself, some of her bitterness came through.
With their shoulders turned to her, they conferred. Twilight whispered: “There’s no malicious spirits of any kind haunting her. She’s totally clean.”
Panic started nestling in for Sunset, and made itself nicely comfortable. Exactly as comfortable as she wasn’t. “I don’t understand. It wasn’t a dream, Twilight, I swear.”
“And I believe you.” insisted Twilight, hooves held up in a disarming fashion.
“Then why didn’t we catch it?” Sunset’s whisper grew a little out of control. “Maybe we should check again.”
Luna was not sitting through this a second time. “Would you two please finally explain to me what’s going on here?” She stepped forth, more adamant. “You could hardly have known I’d be accosted by curious ponies, and now this? What, pray tell, did you just try to detect in me?”
Sunset gulped so hard, one might suspect she were attempting to swallow the soft boiled egg she usually took for breakfast, shell and all. No salt. “Well. You see. Um.”
“Sunset,” urged Twilight a bit more firmly, pushing her Luna’s way, “just tell her what you told me. It’ll be fine. Everything will be fine.” Though she said this, Twilight wasn’t so sure it was for Sunset’s benefit or her own.
“There’s no easy way to put this, Luna.” She closed her eyes and drew a breath so sharp, it might break skin. “I have reason to believe a small portion of Nightmare Moon’s essence either escaped your initial banishment, o-or maybe even survived your final confrontation with her.”
“What?” At first, Luna merely quirked her brow and curled up her lip. This was ludicrous. But there was more to come.
“I saw this entity myself, at the abandoned Everfree castle. Right before it hijacked my body as a vessel to carry it into town.” Shame crawled all along Sunset’s spine, like dozens of spiders ready to bite down. Her hoof found its way to her upper forelimb, scratching nervously. “It said something about using me to… I dunno, strengthen its connection to ‘her.’ I figured there was only one pony that could mean.” She pointed at Luna, shame and regret croaking in her voice. “You.”
“Alright.” said Luna curtly after a pause. “No.”
Sunset peered over her shoulder at Twilight, who could only offer a nervous shrug. Turning back, she said: “What do you mean, ‘no?’”
“This is not happening.” Luna gestured vaguely, as though “this” were a tangible thing she could point to. Would that she could, because then she could also grab it, and finally throw it out of her life for good. “There is nary a method by which my shadow could return. I vanquished that cretin once and for all, and I shan’t have to fight it back anymore!” She stomped her hoof, her wings flaring in frustration. “Because it’s dead!”
As Sunset shrank back from her rising temper, she remembered the opposite happening the day they met. There was another just pill she needed to swallow. The ache of her heart was telling her she deserved this, and worse besides. “Luna, I--”
“No,” she said, confidence fading, “no more fighting, I refuse it. I swore I wouldn’t fight anymore, not if I can avoid it, and I want to avoid it. I promised myself, for my own health. I promised my girlfr--” Wincing, she trailed off, eyes widening. It was as though the bandaging of a fresh wound was being peeled away entirely too soon, unsettling the still-oozing red beneath. Luna sat back down, and her wings drooped.
Twilight stepped forth, tentative with her hoof falls. “Luna? Are you alright?”
A blue hoof found its way to Luna’s cheek. It came back damp. “Apparently not.”
“You can talk to us about it. We’re here for--”
“I’m so sorry!” whined Sunset, tearing up as well. “This is all my fault. I was snooping around that stupid castle trying to find any dumb old reason I could to keep disliking you, and that is so unfair, and now I’ve unleashed your shadow all over again.” She stumbled past Twilight and threw herself at Luna’s mercy. Face at her hooves, that fiery red and yellow hair turned to cinders on the floorboards. “I promise I’ll make this right. I’ll track it down and deal with it, I swear.”
When looking down upon her, the thought of how sweet it felt faded very quickly, surprising even Luna herself. The euphoria had been replaced right away with bitter memories of groveling ponies who’d be hurt the most by difficult decisions she and her sister had to make, back when she wore the crown. So instead, she picked her up, and in a fleeting moment of ill thought out decision making, hugged her. “It will be alright, Sunset.”
Wary hooves tucked in under those blue wings. “I don’t understand. Why, I-I don’t deserve this kindness.”
“No, you surely do not.” sighed Luna, patting her back. “But a wise pony I know told me that sometimes, individuals like you and I lash out when we’ve been hurt. So I wanted to try her advice on how to deal with them. Instead of my former method.”
A great weight overcame Sunset, shoving down hard on her heart. Her mouth quivered as she tried to quibble, but no words escaped.
At long last, Luna let her go. While still holding onto her shoulders, she looked down upon her, eyes pitying enough, but face still stern. “Things are still not okay between you and I. You can only imagine how tired I am of my ugly past rearing up to haunt me. And now the two of you have come into my home to tell me you’ve dredged it up once more, and bade that I’m to additionally feed my story to hungry minds.”
Twilight looked elsewhere, trying to hide her chagrin. Sunset, though, she made an effort to own up to this. She met Luna’s gesture, placing her own hooves up on those broader blue shoulders. She looked her in the eyes and said: “I’m gonna fix this, Luna. I have to try.”
“Best of luck. The stars above know I have.” huffed Luna. She grumbled at the thought, but it was the mature thing to say. Was she not a grown mare? “And… I would consider it a gesture of good will that would go quite the long way with me.”
Regaining some confidence, Twilight added: “We could start with some research back in the Canterlot archives. And maybe I can rearrange the goal of that divination spell to track, in place of detect.” She rubbed her hooves together. “Severity notwithstanding, this is shaping up to be quite the magic challenge.”
“That is a good idea.” Luna brought one hoof down over the other. “Locating the creature should be our first priority. If it didn’t come straight here for me, it could be anywhere right now.”
Halfway across town, the blinds stayed shut in the highest room of a building on the corner. Within, a pair of pink hooves sluggishly slid over the edge of mattress which whined in protest. Straightened, overly combed magenta locks swayed over the shoulders and brushed her knees. And when another belch rumbled up, instincts threw her hooves around her wastebasket.
Luckily, another round of retching yielded nothing this time. That would be ten minutes less she’d have to spend cleaning this thing out. Placing it back at the foot of her bed, Pinkie Pie let out a groan and clutched her stomach. Her entire body felt heavy and sluggish, most of all her guts which felt like this huge lump had weighed down on them.
Before she was about to lie back, there came a gentle knock at her door. “Pinkie? May I come in?”
Ponderously, Pinkie pulled the baby blue sheets over shoulders. “Um, sure Mrs. Cake. Just keep your distance.”
The door creaked in, giving way to a squat blue mare. “Alright, listen, dear. I have tried to be…” she covered her mouth when she saw the bags under Pinkie’s eyes. “Oh no, what’s wrong, hon?”
“Must be something I ate. It’s disagreeing with me like an overly confident relative at the holiday dinner table.” Pinkie gave a meek laugh.
The chiding Mrs. Cake had come up here to do left her in a single sigh. “I’ll have Mr. Cake bring you some water; we’d best keep your fluids up. And maybe later, I’ll make you a bowl of soup, if you’re up to it.”
“Um.” She took a moment to consider the weights both on her mind and guts. “Yeah, no, sure, thank you.” Watching her turn to go, she called out. “Wait, what did you want to say at the start?”
Hesitant, Mrs. Cake lingered in the frame. She chewed her lip. “Well, not wanting to be rude, I was going to ask when you were going to feel up to working again. I’ve given you a couple days now to sit a spell and really think on things, is all.”
“Oh,” mewled Pinkie, “right.”
“I’m really not trying to sound like I don’t care none.” She pursed at her own statement, counting the amount of negatives. “Well, you know what I mean. Ya just can’t sit around and mope forever. That’s no way to move on.”
Solemn, Pinkie nodded slowly along to that sobering tune. “No, you’re right, I’ve sat around feeling sorry for myself long enough. I’ll get back to work first thing tomorrow, boss.”
A bittersweet smile spread across Mrs. Cake’s lip. “Aw now, there’s no need to be so formal. You may be a Pie, but after living here with us a few years, you’re an honorary Cake in my book, and not just on account of us both having curly pink hair.” She gave a little hoot. “Oh ho, see what I did there? Pie, Cake?”
For her sake, Pinkie Pie forced herself to smile. “Yeah, heh, good one, Mrs. C.”
As she headed back down, Mrs. Cake left the door cracked ever so slightly ajar. Along the way, she told herself: “Maybe I’m the real Element of Laughter in this household. Ha.”
Grimacing, Pinkie grumbled herself back down into bed. What little light that pierced her blinds was a bother, so she rolled over to get away from it. Sadly though, once awake she was not usually one to fall back to sleep. Slumber would not find her again this morn.
Instead, something else did.
The dull shadow cast across the floor shifted slightly. Which Pinkie found odd, because she hadn’t moved. There came a voice which felt strangely new and old, sounding not unlike her own. “Aw, it’s so nice having a pretend mom, when your real one hasn’t spoken to you in ages.”
Pinkie’s ears flickered. But the shadow didn’t move. Even still, she said nothing. It was merely another dream, that was all. A dream wracked with the guilt of how poorly she’d handled things with Luna. It wasn’t the first, and it might not be the last.
“Oh, that reminds me.” cooed the shadow, knowingly. Pinkie convinced herself it couldn’t have been referring to what she was just thinking. But on it went. “It has been a couple days now, hasn’t it? And Luna hasn’t even stopped by to check in, hmm.”
“She doesn’t owe me her time.” Pinkie spat back. But when she jolted up onto her elbow, the shadow moved with her again. As it should. As it always did, of course, of course. Breathing a little heavier now, she looked around her room. She was all alone. The air was quiet and still, aside from where she displaced it.
“Dreaming.” whispered Pinkie. The word hung there a moment, absent of any conviction. “I musta been dreaming again.”
She convinced no one. Least of all herself. Closing her eyes would not be enough. So instead, she pulled the pillow over her face. And a most bizarre sensation overtook her from there; it was as though her essence stretched beyond the feasible means it ought to be capable of. A groan escaped her as her senses seemed to reach out beyond her control.
“She doing any better?” asked Mr. Cake, unconfident in the response to come.
“Ugh, no, and in fact she’s sick as a dog now too.” Mrs. Cake sounded practically fed up. “We’d better look after her when we get the chance, dear.”
Mr. Cake groaned, none too happy about that. “But we have all these orders to fill. Oh, why does there have to be so many fall weddings?”
“I know, dear, I know. But the poor thing really can’t help it today. And anyhow, she’s promised to try and help us out tomorrow.”
Is that all you really cared about? My ability to fill out orders?
“I guess there’s nothing much for it. Let’s get started.” continued the voices Pinkie heard from the opposite side of the building.
“I just wish she’d quit obsessively combing out that hair of hers.” snorted Mrs. Cake. “Hanging down all straight like that, it just doesn’t look right. Downright creepy is what it is.”
Jolting upright, Pinkie took her pillow and threw it across the room. It hit the wall with a resounding thwump, and she growled out: “Urgh, it’s my hair, I’ll wear it how I want!”
After a moment, the heat dissipated. Pinkie felt an oddly high amount of regret for a measly pillow. She got up and went to retrieve it, wondering all the while why she’d gotten so upset out of nowhere. “Tired,” she told herself, holding her pillow close, “I’m just tired.”
Author's Note
It seems like these girls just can't catch a break.
Was gonna have this chapter out sooner, but let's just say my weekend was pretty draining.
Luna took a long sip, mindful of the heat, and set her cup down. She eyed the small plate of toast she’d made. But her stomach was in knots, so it remained untouched, butter melting away into the crevices it coated. As her eyes darted over what she had so far, the bags underneath began to feel so apparent. So reaching up, she tugged on her cheek.
“That bad, huh?” Hope-Heart caught the scene as she passed by with a cart. She levitated a few books from within to replace upon the far shelves nearby, waiting on an answer as she peeked through the doorway.
Glad for the distraction, Luna slid the papers away like she had the plate, looking up to meet Hope’s expectant gaze. “One would think, having been a princess, I should readily be able to address a crowd.” She took another sip from the coffee Hope had brought, striking of deja vu. “Yet here I am, a whole day later, and I’ve nothing to show.”
Hope took the cart under hoof and smirked. “So you’re a little rusty. Happens to the best of us, boss. I don’t think, like, beating yourself up over this is gonna help, though.”
“Right.” agreed Luna out of obligation. She took the pencil back into her magic grip and stared at the papers once more. Still nothing came.
Grimacing, Hope looked on with unease, sparks practically flying between Luna’s harsh concentration, and a page that defiantly remained blank. Drawing a sharp breath, she said: “Say, you’ve given me run of the library the next few days.”
“And I promise I shall make this up to you.” said Luna, unknowingly interrupting Hope’s train of thought. “I cannot thank you enough, Hope. You have really come through for me on this, for which I intend to compensate you extra.”
“What I was trying to say is…” She tried to say, but the look she got gave her pause. Luna’s concern was palpable, as though she could reach out and grab it. “You certainly don’t have to be here, you know? Like, you can go somewhere else and clear your head?”
Luna sat with this a moment. “Yes.” she said, resolute. “You’re quite right.”
“Yeah I am!” said Hope in a mix of encouragement and self satisfaction. “You get out there, girl, and seize the day.”
“I’ll get out there and get some fresh air.” proclaimed Luna, standing up from her chair. Her magic’s blue aura thoughtlessly stuffed the papers and pencil alike into a nearby shoulder bag.
“Heheh, that’s the spirit, girl.” proudly said Hope, watching her snatch up the toast and coffee and bag to head for the door.
Pausing by the exit to don a scarf, Luna peered back and told her: “And I know just the pony who can help me relearn to rub elbows with the upper crust!”
Hope blinked at those words, turning to add: “Okay, not really wh--” Ring-a-ding, click. The door shut firmly, and the bell swayed back into rest, quiet once more. Gawking, Hope watched her silhouette pass by the far window, and just like that, she was gone. With a sigh to herself, she said aloud: “Well. Whatever works, I guess.”
Click, ring-a-ding. The noise perked a flickering ear of marble white. When the head followed after, silky locks of purple bounced to one side. Rarity took the needle from her tightly pressed lips and stuck it into a miniature cushion strapped round her nearest ankle. She picked up into a trot and announced: “Welcome to Carousel Boutique! How m--ah, Luna, darling!”
Luna loosened her white scarf and none too gracefully wiped the last few crumbs of toast off on her ankle. “Hi, ahem, so sorry to show up unannounced like this.”
“Oh you’re not a bother at all.” cooed Rarity. She gestured further into her work area and added: “I was just putting the needle to some of the commissioned work I got via the gala.” She turned back to Luna and smiled up at her. “Thanks ever so much again for bringing me along.”
A soft, if somewhat bitter chuckle let out, despite Luna’s best hopes of not seeming untoward. “I’m very glad the trip worked out well for all my other friends.”
Unable to help it, one drooping ear betrayed the fall in Rarity’s mood. Trying to maintain her eager-to-please smile, she said: “That certainly was most unfortunate, but, well… was there something I could help you with today?”
“Aw, I didn’t mean to show up merely to level more sour feelings at you.” With nervous reserve now setting in, Luna produced the papers from her shoulder bag, briefly glancing over the notes she had put down so far. “You see, I’m due at a conference in Canterlot tomorrow morning, to publicly discuss my status in renouncing my crown and what have you.”
Hunching over her counter, Rarity’s hooves squished in her cheeks with a groan. “Oh, dear, I really wish you’d told me about this sooner. I could have thrown something together for you and still had time for my commissions.”
Luna blinked. “Wh… Wait, no, you misunderstand. I’m not asking for another outfit, I-I was hoping you might have some advice?”
Rarity trotted off, insisting that: “Confidence is important when addressing a crowd, which a smart look can help one achieve aesthetically.”
Brushing her own cheek, Luna admitted that: “Confidence isn’t exactly something I have abundance in these days.” She followed along, though, dutifully enough. “And what about my gala dress? I could wear that again, it is quite fetching.”
“That it is.” agreed Rarity with pride, which quickly vanished for the sake of practicality. “But it’s simply far too fun of an outfit, dear, it simply wouldn’t do.”
Luna scratched at the bridge of her nose as she watched Rarity fling open a door into a long closet and wheel out a cart of shirts. “Is this really necessary? I simply need a little advice on regaining some of my confidence.”
“Ha,” scoffed Rarity as she clicked through the hangers of some old rental tuxedos she had lying around, “try killing your evil monster self, bringing sunlight back, making new friends, and gingerly working your way into a new life all your own. Sounds fairly confident to me, anyway; here, try this on.” She plucked a white dress shirt from its hanger and tossed it across Luna’s shoulders. “Honestly, how could you have accomplished all this, and still not feel like your old haughty, high and mighty self again?”
Luna gulped, pondering the fragmented shadow that still seemed to loom over her even now. Mayhaps now was not the best time. Instead, as she thoughtlessly slipped into the shirt, she droned on. “My girlfriend betrayed my trust, one of the princesses had it out for me all summer, and now a press conference was thrust upon me out of the blue yesterday.”
Rarity pursed her lips, though she seemed far more focused on the fit of the shirt. “I suppose that would explain why you didn’t come to me sooner.”
Luna pulled away the sleeve she was examining. “Pardon my tact here, but that is rather not the point. A-and at any rate, what am I doing? I cannot let you give me a shirt, you’ve already done too much for me as it is.”
“Funny, you seem to understand pride just fine when it comes to charity.” grumbled Rarity, adjusting the bright red frames as her glasses began to slip. “But this is not that, I am letting you borrow a shirt and tie, alright?”
“Oh.” mewled Luna, abashed. “It fits nicely. Thank you. B-but--”
“If you are so insistent on earning this small favor, as I am willing to do for you, because we are friends…” Rarity glowered, pointing at a few packages resting by her desk beyond the main work area. “Then you can return the favor by making a delivery for me.”
“Oh, certainly.” agreed Luna right away. “Where are they going?”
“Sweet Apple Acres.” explained Rarity. She waltzed over to a wardrobe, opening it to reveal a hanging assortment of neckties. They were mostly generic, solid colors; rather dull for her likes, but custom orders cost extra on commission. “My own sweet apple asked me to mend some older winter clothes that were a little beyond simple sew ups.”
Luna let a few sample ties get compared to each other against her borrowed shirt and less than borrowed dusky complexion. “I can gladly do this for you and let you get back to your actual work.”
“That would be swell.” Rarity ended up with a tried and true solid black tie. Sometimes, it was hard to argue with the classics, even if they might seem a bit mundane. Especially when one’s pressed for time. She took the shirt back and returned it to its hanger along with a new friend of opposite hue. “I was going to head out that way later on, but now you’ve saved me a trip in the cold and being out past sunset.”
“Only happy to help.” Luna beamed, cheerily following along as Rarity ushered her on.
“As to your actual inquiry, though…” She peered back to the order she’d paused working on. A little chuckle escaped her.
“Hmm?” Luna hoisted the old cardboard boxes onto her back, steadying them with her wings as they folded in ever so slightly. This might well be the last winter they saw any use. All the same, she waited for Rarity to continue her thought.
Rarity turned to her, teeth shining bright in a great big smile. “Lie to yourself.”
Slowly, as though it took every moment for the words to process, Luna’s eyes narrowed at her. “Beg your pardon?”
“Don’t beg, dear, it’s demeaning.” teased Rarity, lifting her hoof to trace along her jaw all the way to the end of Luna’s chin. Trotting off to get back to work, she added: “But I am serious when I say that confidence is something you absolutely can fake until it feels real enough to count. So get up tomorrow, look in the mirror, and say ‘I am a confident mare.’”
“‘I am a confident mare?’” Luna emulated poorly, because she wasn’t one. But deep down and far away, at the back of her vaults of memory, she recalled being one. Bloody victories on the battlefield, heated shouts at the royal court sessions, and why, yes, even approaching her sister, teeth clenched, they all echoed across the cavern walls of deepening centuries past.
“No, that won’t do.” tutted Rarity. Her magical grip swept her work table, scooping up several spools, the thread flying out to hook effortlessly into the needles of her wrist-bound pincushion. Leveling her gaze, sapphire eyes practically flaring with the command, she told her: “You’re allowed to leave now if you can give me one good one. Come now, dear.”
“Maybe you’re right, Rarity.” Luna rose into a firmer stance. When drawing a deep breath, so too were drawn up all those images she’d recalled. Had she not always been able to stand up for herself? Had it not felt so much better to go from letting some sunny little upstart verbally push her back over a chair to rising up nice and tall to eclipse her? “I am Luna of Equestria, and I am a confident mare.”
“Ah, there you are.” Rarity was nicely pleased with the results. “I’m sure we’ve all missed this Luna. So why don’t you head out there and show the world?”
“Thanks ever so much for the chat, Rarity. I think this is exactly what I needed.” Head held higher than it might’ve been for some time, she pushed open the boutique door.
“Just don’t forget to swing back by later to borrow the shirt and tie, darling. Ta for now.” She sighed as she watched her go and finally returned to her work.
Luna’s hooves tread along a familiar path, skirting the long laid indents of wagon wheels leaving the premises. Why, she hadn’t been up this way since the night after the Summer Sun Celebration. At the time, a kind new friend was guiding her as a different mare entirely. But she remembered the way well enough.
A funny sight caught her attention. So Luna left the trail and propped herself upon the wooden fence. She eased off a little bit when it creaked under her weight, though, and set down the boxes. A good view was easy enough to maintain, though, and she couldn’t help herself but grin, watching Trixie go.
Great beads of sweat formed heavy upon her straining brow as Trixie lifted with all the might her magic could muster. The big rolled bale of hay, possibly twice her own size, rose to meet the other two, gingerly setting down upon them as the cart creaked. Huffing, she sidled along and knocked the side, signalling to Big Mac, who nodded back at her and pulled away. She collapsed onto a nearby stump to catch her breath, drying her face on a patchy purple neckerchief, possibly a borrowed rag belonging to the Apple family.
“My, my, look at you.” cooed Luna.
“Gak!” yelped Trixie, stumbling back over, prompting a howling bout of laughter out of Luna. Pulling herself up, Trixie groaned. “Ugh, how is it I keep managing to embarrass myself in front of you?”
Luna waved it off as she began to walk over. “Nonsense, Trixie, it’s fiiiiine, it’s fine! Aw, stop pouting so much.”
Trixie didn’t know it, but she helped Luna feel like less of a princess. By disobeying this order rather flagrantly. In fact, she began to pout even harder. “I don’t see why I should. What are you, my mother?”
“I’m certainly old enough to be.” teased Luna. But then she pondered that line of thinking more than not at all. “Which is, admittedly, something of a scary thought.”
She who had yet to cease her pouting now showed she had yet to begin to frown. Her cheeks went flush, and in a tinny whine, she asked: “Would that really be so bad?”
“No!” pleaded Luna, now being the one to nearly fall back. “No, no, not at all. I-I meant, rather, that I don’t think I’m ready to be a mother. That’s all. Honest.”
Unimpressed, Trixie crossed her hooves, setting down with an angry little plop, turning away from her. “As if.”
“Hrm.” Luna came over the fence now, with a single beat of her wings, setting down gently by her side. Ginger but firm, not unlike gingerbread in fact, she placed one hoof upon Trixie’s shoulder. “Hey, come now. If anything, I’m quite proud of you.”
This brought her head about so fast, Luna was certain she might have heard a crack. Though, that might have been her hair whipping around. Finally wearing a sweet face to replace the sour one, Trixie said: “Really?!”
“Alright, calm down a tad, first of all.” chuckled Luna, patting her across the back. “Second, yes, actually. Last I was told, you weren’t handling a life of labor too well.”
“O-oh, well--”
“Worse yet,” interrupted Luna, leaning in closer now, “you were allegedly acting rather rudely to my good friend, Applejack, who had welcomed you into her home out of the kindness of her heart.”
“Ah, yes.” said Trixie plainly. “That.”
“Have you sorted that out yet?” asked Luna. Easing her hooves a spell, she sat on down next to Ponyville’s latest rancher.
“Applejack had a little chat with me, yeah.” Trixie practically shivered at the thought. Despite being a few inches taller, she knew that denser build of hers was serious business. “But you know, it’s strange.”
Now that got Luna’s attention. Raising one brow, she asked her: “How do you mean?”
“It’s just that what really got to me was when she mentioned you.” Trixie rotated her hoof about, her eyes rolling off the other way. “Don’t get me wrong, I know AJ could trounce me. But somehow… the thought of disappointing you hurt more?”
Luna leaned back, and her wandering gaze found the listless clouds of sleepy autumn already trawling past. Her eyes glazed over somewhat. “Do you really look up to me that much?”
“I mean, yeah, I guess.” Trixie fiddled with a pebble between the blades of grass. She hadn’t gotten a response like that since she showed her father her first routine.
“I don’t mean to seem ungrateful, Trixie. It’s… touching.” Tentative, Luna put one wing over Trixie’s shoulder, tender, but not too much so. “I suppose I’m still not used to the idea that anypony might think highly of me, given my messy past.”
Tapping her chin, Trixie conceded. “Hrm, I can totally see that.”
“Also, the last pony who said she looked up to me turned out to be rather infatuated with me as well.” A nervous little laugh got through. She shook her head, leaning down to say: “It was a tad awkward.”
Although she had since cooled off from moving those heavy bales, Trixie’s cheeks went flush again. Meeting Luna’s searching eyes, she grimaced. She fiddled her hooves together and told her: “I wouldn’t worry about that with me. I think I’m… still figuring myself out?”
A stray hoof of Luna’s found its way to scratching at her jaw before running past and over side then back of her neck. She sighed and said: “Um, you know, I think I am too.”
“I dunno, Luna. You seem pretty collected to me.” Trixie’s face tightened up as Luna looked at her with this exasperated air. Shortly, her eyes opened up like a pair of blooming lilacs in the sun. “Oh, you meant it like that, duh.”
Gaps in the lazy clouds overhead ran shimmers of light over Luna’s face, and her expression warmed with a little more of an easiness. “Way back so long ago, things seemed so obvious and straightforward. But maybe they never were. Maybe I was just going along with what was expected of me, meeting with handsome knights and nobles. Now I come back, and the norm has changed. I can finally decide for myself what it is I want.”
Sheepish and incredulous all at once, like a skeptical lamb, Trixie grinned at her. “And what is it you want, Luna?”
Luna covered up her warm little smile. Fleeting by on soft feathered wings, her heart nearly slipped away, as the timid flutter became almost tangible. Shy reluctance kept the words at bay for a moment, but she felt she could trust this magician who she’d watched mature, even if the slightest bit. “Cute girls.”
“Well ain’t you two chummy.” The daunting drawl cut the giggles short. Applejack smirked as the two clambered to their feet to stand up straight before her. For Trixie, she understood the desire to seem proper and on top of things. The funny one was Luna, back straight and chin high.
“Sorry for slacking off, miss Applejack.” said Trixie in the best mixture of stern professionalism and sincere apologia she could manage. “I hadn’t had the chance to catch up with… my good friend, Luna, here.”
Luna’s ears perked to the sound of that. “Yes, quite. It’s my fault for distracting her, Applejack.”
“Aw now, I didn’t come round just to harangue ya none. If anything, I am pleasantly surprised at how much you’ve gotten done today. Why don’tcha head on to the house for some lunch, Trix?” She beckoned and Trixie excitedly darted past her like a bolt of blue lightning. AJ scoffed, shook her head, and smirked. This was still an improvement. Peering back at Luna, she said: “Would you care to join? I’m sure there’s enough cornbread.”
“I do enjoy your cornbread, Applejack, but I didn’t intend to stay long.” Luna pointed over to the fence. “Rarity sent me to drop those off for you, along with her warmest regards.”
“That’s mighty fine, long as you don’t kiss me on the cheek for her.” teased Applejack. She began to make her way over to the boxes lying beside the fence post.
Luna followed along, saying: “Ha, don’t worry, she didn’t request anything more personal than that.” As they walked, Luna nudged her. “I might have if she asked me, though, just to watch you hide your face behind that hat of yours again.”
“Oh hardy har har.” whickered Applejack. She presented her shoulders and let Luna’s magic place her boxes across them. She glanced back across the gentle rolling hill. Granny Smith was beckoning her to get some food. But another thought occurred. “Say.”
After landing on the other side of the fence, Luna debated hopping back. She stayed where she was, though, and sidled up to speak over the wood. “Yes?”
“We had a slip up with a couple cases of cider earlier, and that’s gonna take some time to replace. But I was gonna take a basket of apples out to Fluttershy’s cottage today.” AJ frowned the frown of a prideful worker, none too fond of her mistake this morning, or asking for help. But with an uncomfortable gulp, she swallowed some of that pride. “Would mind too terribly saving me a trip so I can get things done here?”
“AJ.” cooed Luna. She leaned upon the fence post, finding it sturdier, and simply smiled. “You needn’t sound so ashamed of requesting a small favor. Why, I’d be happy to help.”
Running errands for her friends wasn’t exactly how Luna pictured her day going. Briefly, she pondered again the pages of notes she’d meant to work on, so she might readily answer relevant questions with greater coherency. Though perhaps that was less necessary than she feared. If nothing else, the bright sun and fresh air had done wonders for clearing her worried head, just as Hope suggested.
Her hooves skipped across the grass as she came to a stop, right before the cottage door. Luna reached out and gave a light rap-tap-tap. “Hello, Fluttershy? Are you in by chance?”
“Here, lemme get that for ya.” came a voice more brash than that of the owner of the humble abode. When the door swung in, it was Rainbow Dash beyond the frame. “Well hey there, Luna. Thought that was you.”
“Ah, Dash.” Luna sheepishly presented the basket. “Don’t let me interrupt you two, Applejack sent these.”
Fluttershy’s head appeared further in, beyond the corner of wall separating the kitchen. “Rainbow, did you say that was Luna? Luna, hi!”
“I won’t keep you, I’m just dropping off these apples and I’ll be on my way.” Luna let Rainbow take them off her hooves and began to turn about.
“Nonsense, it isn’t any bother.” bade Fluttershy, stepping out into full frame beyond the veil of cutlery and an old wood burning stove. The word “rustic” certainly came to mind, and Luna felt the fuzzy memories of the Apple family kitchen tickle the back of her head.
“You’re treating guests.” noted Luna, nodding to Rainbow who set the basket of apples down on a table in the back near that frame which led to the kitchen.
“We did just finish our lunch.” admitted Fluttershy. “But I have some tea on, if you’d like a cup.”
Luna peered at Rainbow, locking eyes with her. In a brief, silent moment, she attempted to gauge how private an affair this was, and if Fluttershy was simply being polite. When she got a churlish grin and a flick of the head to beckon her in, Luna said: “Well, since you insist. One cup won’t hurt.”
And hurt it didn’t. Fluttershy had even dived into the far back of her pantry for the nicest tea at hoof, just for her friends. “Dragon pearl tea.” she explained to Luna, placing curious little tightly wound balls in to steep. “It’s a little on the pricey side, since the ‘pearls’ are manually rolled up like you see. But it’s worth it for special guests.”
It was a rich delight, something Luna hadn’t experienced for a decent little while. The taste, with just a touch of sugar and milk, was smooth and bold, with an almost chocolate like quality. Halfway through, Luna deeply considered asking for a second cup. Then again, she didn’t want to impose upon Fluttershy and take from her more expensive stock. Especially since her arrival and being given a drink was duly unprompted.
“By the way.” Rainbow got Luna’s attention. She scratched at her cheek, uncertain about how to proceed with this line of thought.
“Mm? Yes, Rainbow?”
“Well I mean, it’s just, like, you’re already running around today. Doing errands, and such.” Dash swirled what remained in her own cup and downed it.
Quirking one brow, Luna asked: “Oh? Did you have one you needed help with?”
“There’s one I was gonna run for Fluttershy before getting back to the weather team, yeah.” She leaned over to Fluttershy who seemed rather disapproving of her pawning this off. Nevertheless, a blue hoof went over that yellow shoulder. Batting her lashes, Dash said: “Buuuuut if you’d be a pal, I could hang with Flutters just a little bit longer.”
Chuckling, Luna nodded. “I don’t see why not. What needs doing, Fluttershy?”
Fluttershy looked at Rainbow, seeping zero confidence. Her grimace was met with a look of hope. So she turned to Luna and said: “I keep chickens, and, well, I send some spare eggs when I can to…” She bit her lip, nervous to continue on. “To Pinkie Pie for her baking job.”
Luna’s smile faded in an instant. Her eyes swiveled in place to affix Rainbow Dash in a look of pure dagger thrusting spite. But her fury faded as rapidly as it arrived. Sighing, she resigned herself. “I understand your trepidations. But refusing to be around her isn’t going to improve…” She gestured vaguely. “This whole situation.”
“You really don’t have to do this, Luna.” Fluttershy firmly nudged Rainbow Dash, who let out a mild “oof,” and let go. “I’m sure Rainbow won’t mind keeping her original promise to me. Isn’t that right, Dash?”
“Okay, okay, yeesh.” Rainbow rubbed at her ribs in a small circle.
Luna watched them bicker a moment, Fluttershy insisting she hadn’t meant to hit her that hard. They talked about Luna and Pinkie, and that maybe now wasn’t the best time. While that went on a tiny bit longer, Luna enjoyed the last of that wonderful tea Fluttershy had made. Pondering the cup, and the kindness of its offering, she made up her mind. When setting the cup into the saucer with a firm clink, she told them: “Girls, it’s quite alright. I’ll be happy to make another delivery for a friend of mine.”
With a wholly new basket in the crook of her hoof, Luna found herself landing gently upon that familiar intersection. There, as its name suggested, sat the bakery on the corner. A couple patrons were just leaving, as noted by the bell, which felt as though it chimed for her. The clanging silenced the world around her, beckoning on like the siren’s song. And Luna was about to go crashing upon the rocks.
The bell rang once more, announcing her arrival. The counters were unran, betrayed by the din and clamor further in. No doubt, the kitchen was a busy place today. From beyond the doors which led into them, a voice rose. “Pinkie, can you check on that?”
“Of course.” whispered Luna under her breath. But that thought shook right out of her when she saw Pinkie. Her hair was straight, she slouched when she walked, and horrible bags had developed under her eyes.
“Welcome to Sugarcube Corner, how can I help… you?” Pinkie’s tired eyes widened.
Without even thinking twice, Luna reached across the counter that separated them, cupping Pinkie’s surprised cheek. “Are you feeling alright?”
Pinkie reflexively pulled away. “U-uh, yeah, I’m fine. I just haven’t been sleeping well lately, alright?”
Luna withdrew her hoof, mouth growing tight. “I’m… sorry if I offended you? I was simply concerned for… Well, perhaps I shouldn’t have touched you like that.”
“Yeah, and I also don’t need your pity.” Pinkie huffed, clenching her teeth up tight, lest any more venom dribble out like that. Her searching eyes darted uncertainly, though, as it surprised even her. Gripping at her cheek, where Luna had touched it, she spoke up again. “A-anyway, how I can I help you?”
More reserved now, Luna referred to the basket. “Fluttershy sent you some eggs. There you go.”
As Luna turned to go, Pinkie weakly held out her hoof, reaching out. But it was too late. The bell chimed once more, and she was gone. She slumped behind the counter, meeting her reflection in the sliding glass pane between her and the cupcakes display. “Ughhhhhhhhh, what was that? What came over me just now?”
Her reflection in the glass answered her, bitingly. “Isn’t it simply exasperating how they all condescend to you? Poor little Pinkie, they don’t think you can take basic care of yours--”
“Nope.” Pinkie bolted away from the glass and snatched up the basket. “I-I don’t have time to be dozing off and talking to myself in my dreams again. Got a bunch of work to catch up on.”
Luna was still trying to calm herself down as she descended the hill back home. Not having had lunch was of little help. As the pangs finally settled over her stomach, all she could think about was that aggressive snipe from Pinkie. How could she?
“Hrm, m-maybe I shouldn’t have stormed off, though.” Luna’s hooves scuffed along the cobbles. Pinkie clearly wasn’t in a good place, so perhaps she could have insisted on staying to see about that. Could it be that Sunset wasn’t the only one in need of a lesson in patience?
That’s about when she noticed the two strangers loitering by her front door. They seemed to be wearing light piecemeal armor, and had what looked like heavy bags on the ground beside them. One saw her, she was a tall unicorn with broad shoulders; she pointed Luna out to the squat pegasus beside her, who was the vaguest bit familiar.
“Luna, hi!” beamed the pegasus, picking up into a trot. Her identity became a bit more apparent when that shade of reddish pink finally became apparent in the gaps between her armor. It was--
“Officer Ruby Glade!” spat the taller of the two, and Ruby halted immediately. Her coat was white with veiny thin lines of gray, like the immaculate stone statues of old were oft rendered from. Her experience-lined eyes of onyx met Ruby’s tangerine irises as she lowered. With a mere grimace, she shaped Ruby into a proper soldier’s posture. “You are addressing the lady who is to be our charge, and I expect you to be respectful.”
There was a lot there to address all at once. “Charge?” Luna sized this soldier up. She wasn’t as tall as her, but she definitely looked a bit sterner. While no doubt, she could likely best her in a contest of magic, she didn’t want to pit her strength against hers. “Excuse me, who are you, and what are you two doing here?”
The stout unicorn mare clicked her hooves together and raised her chin high. “Knight captain Marble Glade, at your service my lady.”
“Say what now?” Out of the corner of her eye, Luna spotted Hope in the window of the library. Seems this Marble woman got her attention with that little shout. She gave Hope a questioning look, but all she got in return was a hapless shrug, just as confused as she was.
“Lady Luna,” added Ruby in her best (but still lackluster) attempt at warrior’s barking, “w-we are hereby assigned to the protection of your person, until such a time as the existential threat which you have previously discussed with the princesses Twilight and Sunset is no longer a risk to you.” She peered up at Marble, who bequeathed the tiniest of smirks and a nod. Anything further would break their formation of two, which is unacceptable.
Luna blinked in silence a moment, piecing this all together. She could feel a sense of pressure building behind the temples of her skull. An errant hoof of hers began a form of worship at one of those temples, rubbing softly in small circles. Exhausted in the very way one might be after running around town all day, she sighed. “Aw, you have got to be kidding.”
Author's Note
I live. And am exhausted. I should give this another pass but here it is for now. But alas I must pause again. I'm in the grocery business and it's that time of year, folks. So work has been hectic to say the least of it.
Anyway, I think that scene with Trixie is my most favorite thing I've ever written. I laughed at my own jokes, and hey. Isn't that what really matters? Now I'm going to go fry some eggs and maybe have a stout.
Part 3: Here are your answers.
Luna swore she last felt this exact weight of burdening heat when traipsing the shifting dunes of Saddle Arabia. A distinct sense of deja vu even set in when she shielded her eyes from the brightness overhead. And anxiously, she fretted that any moment now, her pores would become as miniature waterfalls like they had so long ago on that sandy trek, soaking her borrowed robes with sweat.
Covering her were not borrowed robes this time; instead, she wore a modern shirt and tie. And above was not sister’s ever-burning sun, but rows of artificial lights powered by a technology she still hadn’t quite wrapped her head around. She thought: What happened to light spells? Were those not good enough? Certainly they don’t give off as much heat as these contraptions.
Before her, nearly drowned by the relative shadow, sat a sea of reporters, investigators, journalists; in a word, the press. Any moment now, the flood gates would be lifted, and the tide of curious questions would come rolling in like a foamy brine. Hardly could she blame these curious depths, even if they seemed to grow darker the deeper the rows stretched, further and further back into the conference hall.
Certainly it was likewise not the first time pools of shadow had swallowed her up. Worse yet, she now had to worry about them coming for her all over again. One might hope that would not come up in the questioning.
All the gobbledygook about welcoming them washed over Luna as Celestia spoke into the microphone as she had instructed her on doing. The dull muffle reminded her of nestling gently beneath the waves. She ought to visit the beach again, come summer. Those calming blue rhythms of salt, sand, and the occasional gull call were all preferable to this noise by many a league.
“Before we open the floor to questions, I believe Luna has an official statement she’d like to make.” announced Celestia, just as they had rehearsed earlier this morn.
It was just the two of them. A small desk, a stage, and more lights than she could count. Maybe things would have been better if it had been reduced just like this; the two of them, all alone. Without all the eyes upon them, without all the expectations, things could have been different. Things could have been so much better.
Celestia made a welcoming gesture. “Luna, the floor is yours.”
“Thank you, sister.” she said, rising before the rippling audience. “Good folk of Equestria… I, Luna of Canterlot, hereby renounce my crown. And with it, my claim to the throne and rights to rule in Celestia’s stead. Documents have been drawn up, and I have signed. By my own volition, I am a member of the Equestrian royalty no longer.”
A murmur surged in the quiet crowd, but more noise than that erupted from pencils dictating this quote directly. Once the last of her words were scratched out, she sat back down, surrendering the floor to Celestia. The queen drooped to her microphone and tried to add a little levity. “This was a pretty big surprise to me as well, considering we originally fought because she wanted the exact opposite.”
That got a few chuckles to pass over the crowd. Luna found it amusing too, but couldn’t shake the dour look she wore. Trying to remember to not press her lips directly against the microphone, she welcomed the part she had dreaded most. “Jokes aside, there must certainly be some curiosity as of yet unsated. So, let us move onto the question portion of the conference.”
Celestia picked the first one, ripe as any fruit among the raised hooves pockmarked with the occasional claw or two. A winged stallion of a petite nature with pretty hair asked: “Lady Luna, how can we be sure that you have not been coerced by your sister into this decision?”
Luna shared a trepidatious glance with Celestia. There wasn’t any chance this wouldn’t come up. Leaning back to the mic, she simply said: “I understand the apprehension. But trust me when I say I’ve had long enough to think on this. And I’ve decided a leadership position isn’t for me.”
“But wasn’t your original usurpation on the grounds that you desired the love of your subjects, as you perceived Celestia as already receiving?”
Luna had to pause to ponder that. Not because she doubted herself, but to marvel at how thoroughly he’d phrased it. “When you spend an entire millennium in a dazed delirium of solitude, one’s desire for the love of all can… easily fade to settling for any interaction at all.”
A disquieted murmur began, so Celestia moved things along. “Next question.”
“Will the citizens’ taxes continue to fund your lifestyle, miss Luna?” asked a gangly unicorn filly. “Or have you become one of us, so to speak?”
Smirking, Luna told her: “I am one of the common folk now, yes. But funnily enough, being my new town’s librarian, I’m still paid via taxes.” Celestia leaned over to whisper something, and Luna’s smirk faded. “I do apologize if my calling the populace ‘common folk’ was out of line. I’m still catching up with modern vernacular.”
For the next question, Luna decided to call upon one of the few claws she could pick out. A delicate looking griffin with the head of a dove rose from her seat. “Why thank you, miss Luna. I was wondering if you or the queen had any comments on the mistake of your demise at the hooves of these new bearers of the Elements of Harmony?”
“It was a heavy day when my star apprentice told me I had lost my sister a second time.” Celestia said, voice creaking with a morose wane. She kept her chin up though, when she felt her sister’s doting hoof run across her shoulder and back.
Luna turned back to her mic. “Also I hope Twilight doesn’t bear the blame for that. In truth, the fault was mine.” Would she say it? Could she? She had to; it was the truth. “Ashamed as I am to admit, at the time I was wearing a disguise.”
The dove hesitated with the pencil wrapped oh so delicately between her claws. She had to be careful. Too much pressure from her talons, and the tool would splinter. Flipping back a few pages in her notebook, she reluctantly pressed on. “I recall hearing about one Louise Moonshadow? Interesting name for a unicorn.”
“I suppose.” scoffed Luna with a mild smirk. There was something about how his griffin said that, so dryly, that amused her. “I’ll agree, though, not my best work. But I was put rather on the spot.”
“Right.” chuckled the dove. It settled easily enough as she clutched the pencil the tiniest bit tighter, ready for an answer to this one. “And why did you feel the need to create this new persona, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Celestia leaned forth with a thud as she propped her elbows upon the table. With the largest and fakest smile she could muster, she said through gritted teeth: “Well now, that’s been several questions for one reporter. I think we ought to be fair here, and call on someone else, hmm?”
“Sister.” Gently, Luna pushed Celestia’s hoof down as her sister tried to point to the opposite end of the room. She shook her head, uttering not a word as she watched that frown grow.
“But--”
“I know.” Luna faced this dove again. “I was scared.” she told her plainly. “I hid who I was at first because I was scared Equestrians would look upon me and recall the monster I became. So I ran away from that pony.”
“And you’re confident that isn’t who you are anymore?” The words just tumbled out of her. This dove thanked her lucky stars the lights were lower above the reporters, because her heart was catching in her throat.
“Yes.” said Luna without hesitation. “Because my friends stabbed her with a magic sword, and then we all blasted her the Elements of Harmony.”
The dove gulped her heart back down. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but she could swear there was glint in Luna’s eye just then, like she enjoyed describing that part in particular. Murmurs surged around her, so she cupped one claw to her beak and said: “Thank you so much for your time, miss Luna. I’ll yield the floor now.”
“Whew.” said Celestia, wrenching her mic closer in. “Um, how about you over there?”
Up stood a pegasus who looked an absolute rapscallion. He could hardly calm his rakish brow as he said: “Yeah, I’d like to go back where Luna mentioned princess Twilight? I couldn’t help but notice she didn’t address her as ‘her majesty,’ or ‘princess Twilight.’ Care to comment on your first name basis with her, miss Luna?”
Luna gawked at the colt a moment. She nodded to Celestia, and answered: “I’m on first name, no title standing with her as well, and she’s the queen.”
“Right,” he admitted, trying to maintain the thread, “but she’s your sister.”
“What’s your point?” asked Luna, who became all the more confused when she saw her sister, mortified, bury her face into her hooves.
“There’s already a familial familiarity, you know?” When she still didn’t seem to get it, he came right out and asked: “How familiar are you with princess Twilight?”
“We’re decent enough friends, I’d say.” Luna’s face began to warm up. She had no idea what this newfound snickering was about. “She’s introduced me to some more modern literature, to help reacclimate me to Equestrian culture.”
“Right, well…” he trailed, flipping through some notes of his own. “There are also those who say they saw you two share a slow dance at the gala.”
Luna’s eyes shot wide open. The realization of what he was getting at hit her like a decrepit castle rampart tumbling over. Only this time, she didn’t get a shield spell up. Leaning back in, she said: “Ahem. Princess Twilight and I are good friends. That is all. Also, going further, I think I’d like to keep my private life… private, if that’s alright.”
“Alright,” chuckled Celestia, pointing somewhere else, “let’s move on then. You there.”
“What about you, your grace?” asked a lanky earth mare. “Anypony you’ve had your eye on?”
Joyless, Celestia searched the far wall for a clock she could read. The amount of minutes left were unsatisfying. Returning to the question with a grimace, she tried to remain as polite as she could, saying: “I’m afraid I’ll have to echo my sister’s sentiment toward that line of questioning. But suffice it to say, the general public needn’t worry about me spending their taxes on extravagant dates.”
Another murmur lightly swept over the small crowd. Luna could tell they were commenting on her and her sister dodging the question. Even back in her day, though, she could recall a similar desire for the gossip surrounding well known figures. But these days, it seemed no longer uncouth to ask them for it directly. How curious.
Questions not unlike those last few in nature bogged the entire experience in a mire. Marching through them was the exact sort of trudge Luna had fretted. Repeating some variation of “That’s a touch personal.” grew more exhausting by the minute--minutes which seemed to stretch on into the void of time--time that could be better spent searching and researching for her current, far more pressing predicament.
Surprise struck with the hands of the clock; noon had arrived. The press conference was finally shy of its allotted time. So her grace, queen Celestia, stood up to announce as much. “Good folk of the press, it appears we are out of time. I would like to thank you again for your time, and hope we have been able to sate the concerns of Equestrians together.”
Luna followed her sister’s gesture and stood with her. “I suppose for closing statements, I would say I actually rather look forward to a quiet, calmer life as a fellow citizen, rather than your ruler. I only hope my fellow Equestrians will accept me.”
The two of them bowed and the conference was adjourned. Press began to funnel out of the hall, and the queen brought her sister with her to exit stage left. A small gaggle of guards ascended the stage to follow after them.
It was so much nicer and cooler beyond the precipice of the bright red curtain. No electric lights made a desert of this space back here. So Luna was already loosening her borrowed tie. “How do you think that went?”
“You did so good!” practically shouted Nimbus, rushing past her queen alongside Petra.
“Did so well.” corrected Petra. Together they wrapped Luna up in a hug, much to her chagrin as she tried to cool down.
“Okay, whatever.” said Nimbus, clearing a space for Ruby to gather around Luna with them.
Behind them came a stamp of one rather impatient hoof. As the four of them peered back, they saw knight captain Marble sneering at them from over her snout. With her head tilted back to do so, she nearly came to merely half a head shorter than her queen. “Soldiers, this display is disgraceful for fledgling pegasus knights such as yourselves. That mare is your charge to guard, not your buddy to throw yourselves onto like a bunch of lovesick puppy dogs.”
She barked something barely intelligible, but they leapt into a line all the same, rising to postures straight and stiff as boards. With half-hearted salutes, they shouted back: “Yes ma’am.”
“I’m especially disappointed in you, Ruby.” lamented Marble as she walked on by. “I really thought I had taught you better than this.”
Idle as captain Marble marched by, gesturing for them all to follow, Luna couldn’t help but notice Ruby’s eyes. They were usually bright as tangerines, but now they clouded over as she blinked away a light shower. Luna thought to say something.
“If you don’t mind my asking, sister, have you eaten?” bade Celestia, sashaying along toward the exit.
Just when Luna thought the questioning was over. “Well, no, I haven’t.”
“It’s true,” confirmed Marble, “she said she felt too nervous earlier.”
Celestia’s gaze beamed, and before her sister could grumble about having that bit of information revealed, she said: “Mayhaps you’ll let me treat you and we can catch up?”
“I’m not so sure--” began Luna. But she noticed a surprised look from her sister. For half a second, she feared her worst expectations had come true, and her shadow had caught up to her at last. But instead of a dark abyss, waiting for her was something much brighter.
Knight captain Marble stomped, her horn flaring, and bolted across the backstage area in a literal flash. It seemed to be a striker’s variant of a teleport spell, shifting some of its mobility into a more tangible momentum. Not that her brief light dash was going to actually bowl the stranger over, she nevertheless fell back, tail between her legs. Marble demanded: “Just what do you think you’re doing skulking back here, griffin?”
“Whoa!” shouted Luna, dashing through her fan club. “Moon and stars above, Marble, you can’t just attack someone like that!”
Marble Glade saw her lady’s approach and widened her stance, pitting herself between charge and stranger alike. “Hold, my lady. We don’t know what she’s capable of.”
When Luna tried to shoulder by, Marble bumped her back a step, and with ease. Luna had been right in assessing their gap in physical strength. But she was not deterred. “Knight captain Marble, I will not tell you a second time to stand down.”
“I… this could be a part of its plan.” She truly did not wish to upset Luna. But every precaution felt necessary--justified even.
“It?” asked the griffin as she picked herself up, while also sliding out of Marble’s reach.
A cold chill spread across them as they realized what Marble had just inferred. Luna took the opportunity to help her stand up. “I cannot begin to tell you how sorry I am. Are you hurt at all?”
“I was mainly startled.” It was the griffin from before, who Luna had called upon. Her dove-like head gave way to a snow leopard’s body and black talons that gripped Luna’s bracing leg gingerly, so as not to scratch. “Hi, I’m Lyone, by the way.”
“Oh, hello.” fumbled Luna, uncertain how to recover this into a less awkward exchange. “I’m Luna. Though, erm, I suppose you already know that.” That was not how to do that in the slightest. The gut-clenching pain of it might well have shown on her face. An attempt was made to power through with: “You’re certain you’re alright?”
Lyone brushed some imaginary dust off her shoulder with the back of her claw. Nearly scoffing, she said: “I’m not as fragile as I look, you know.”
Mildly taken aback, a bewildered Luna said: “Ah. I see.”
“Whoa, hey, what’s goin’ on back here?” sounded off from a confused, but moreso irritated earthen colt. He clambered up and briskly moved to the edge of the curtain, beyond which he had spied the griffin sneak. “What’s the big idea, tryin’ to sneak off for a private interview the rest of us ain’t gonna get?”
“Actually,” interposed Luna, sizing him up with a smile, “Lyone here happens to be a friend of mine.” She completed the illusion with a gesture, unfurling her wing to rest it over Lyone’s shoulder.
“Yeah,” chuckled Lyone, already getting in line with the lie, “so back off, bud.”
His initial offense was shortly replaced with a new one. “That’s a bit of a conflict of interest, don’t ya think?”
Once the offender, now the offended, Lyone pressed her claw against her ruffled up chest feathers. “Me? Breaking my journalistic integrity? I happen to be quite good at keeping my professional and personal lives entirely separate, thank you.”
“Certainly.” chirped Luna right alongside her, adopting her indignation as a facade. “Didn’t you see when I called on her? She asked the hardest questions of me, while most of you were more concerned with who I might be kissing.”
He started to say something else, still unsatisfied. But Marble was still on deck. Moving in to loom over him, she said: “You’re acting rather aggressive in the company of royalty there, friend. I’d advise you to calm down.”
“You’re one to talk.” muttered Luna under her breath. And if Marble hadn’t heard that, she definitely heard when Lyone giggled. Luna’s ears folded back when she received a rather pointed glare, from eyes like daggers of flint.
The colt decided he didn’t want to push his luck. He seemed a little red in the face, maybe, but that might just have been because of his red coat. The lot of them scurried through the backstage door before anymore excitement could come along. And in tow they took one snow-white griffin, reluctantly or otherwise.
“Sorry for all the trouble I caused.” announced Lyone as they led her down the hall.
“As you should be.” scoffed Marble. “Approaching the queen unannounced like that could have been a far worse mistake.”
“It is you who owes her an apology.” insisted Luna, not even realizing she still had Lyone under her wing. Their eyes met, like an onyx hammer striking a sapphire anvil.
“I am merely performing my duty, in protecting my lady.” Marble bristled up. She was nowhere used to this much push back. Normally, ponies did as she bade, being a mare of her station and all.
To Marble’s surprise, Luna’s ire split from her, and took to a new path. Luna’s gaze pierced forward, and aloud, she complained: “Protection I didn’t ask for.”
Celestia halted the procession which she had been leading. Just before her awaited the double doors at the end of a corridor which led to an open yard of cobble walkways around the castle grounds. If ever there were a moment to have this conversation in private, this was it. But it wasn’t private. Luna had brought some interloper. So Celestia hesitated. “Lyone, was it?”
“Y-yes, your grace.” she squeaked out. As she saw the queen peering over her shoulder back at her, she felt not like some bird of prey (or so she was told as a child) she’d unknowingly stolen her visage from, but soft and frail little snow bunny, waiting to be plucked up by the indifferent falcon rising above her.
“Purely for my own curiosity, mind you,” Celestia droned, politely yet dryly, “why did you follow after us?”
“If I’m being perfectly honest,” said Lyone, claws twiddling idly as she ran the words through her head to awkwardly tumble from her beak, “and I certainly should be, honest that is, I mean… it’s because I wanted a chance to speak with Luna more personally.”
Luna blushed, suddenly acutely aware she was still holding onto Lyone with her wing to escort her. “Ah. I see.” She let go and added: “Why?”
Twiddling her claws, Lyone explained that: “I wanted to make sure you were alright; that I didn’t go too far. Some of my questions couldn’t have been easy to answer.”
“Well, that’s… certainly kind of you.” Luna leveled her gaze and placed a hoof on her shoulder. “But you can believe me when I say my life has been wrought with plenty of difficult questions. Questions that need answering, and sometimes even answering for.”
“As long as you’re alright. Then I’ll run this story.” Lyone placed her claw ever so lightly upon Luna’s hoof.
“Everyone else in that auditorium heard your questions and my answers to them. They’re going to appear in other papers, so they might as well show up in yours.” Luna nodded toward the end of the corridor. “Come now, why don’t I escort you out, lest you frighten the tall unicorn over here once more.”
Together they made their way past the armored entourage, head held high as Marble scoffed. Happy to see the end of this exchange, Celestia put on her warmest, and fakest smile. She gave Lyone a nod, opening the double doors for the lot of them. Light poured in. It was her light, of course, for the sun was hers and hers alone. She basked in it. “So, Luna, about lunch?”
“As I had started saying earlier, I really haven’t the time.”
Celestia tried to hide the sad puppy eyes, since the interloper was still present. But she got the feeling Luna spotted them. “Must you go so soon? Can’t we chat a while?” She nodded very subtly at Lyone as they loped along. “As sisters?”
“I need to get back to Ponyville to relieve my assistant from having to run the library all by herself.” said Luna dourly. “Hope-Heart has really come through for me lately, so I need to come through for her.”
“Ponyville?” chirped Lyone. “Small world. I live not too far from there.”
“You don’t say.” Luna smirked. “What a funny coincidence. You ought to stop by for a visit if you’re ever passing through.”
Marble snorted at the notion. She picked up the pace, sidling up alongside Luna, leaning in. “Now is not the time, my lady. You’re far too trusting.”
“And you, far too paranoid.” spat back Luna. Taking her new friend along, she made for the castle gates. “Lest you forget, I was besting beasts and foes in bloody combat long before even your great grandmother was born, you understand? I didn’t need my sister to assign you and Ruby to my protection.”
“Oh ho,” said Marble with an almost sinister joy, “is that why a colt near half my age was able to best you one on one?”
Bristling as she moved beyond the threshold of the gate, Luna paid no mind to the guards on watch staring on in confusion. “Queensguard Shining Armor would readily have fallen at my behest,” she growled, growing in intensity with each word of assured violent dominance, “had I not held back!”
The bickering went on, and on they went. The queen and her two guards stood at the exit of the castle’s wall, gawking. Ruby offered them a shrug that said she was just as perplexed as they were, then bowed to her queen and ran off to catch up.
Lyone, meanwhile, did nothing to interrupt, and allowed Luna’s comforting wing to guide her along, listening with glee as the two recounted the less comforting battles and brawls of their respective careers, contesting one another on which had earned more glory. The petite and pale griffin thought to herself: This is the single coolest day of my life.
“I hope you two have made some progress. Luna’s already had enough of the guards I placed to look after her.”
Sunset peered up from a book on occult rituals for contacting the supernatural. She was glad for the interruption, promptly hiding the horrors away with a resounding thud as the cover did its job. “Pardon me, your grace, I hadn’t noticed you come in.”
The tucked away section of the Canterlot archive was a dark place, in more ways than one. Placed upon the shelves and within the alcoves here lied knowledge and artifacts alike, of a mysterious and dangerous sort and origin both. Hence the singular way in, and the locks of hard iron and harder arcane sigils.
“Please, Sunset.” bade Celestia. “There’s no need for such formalities between us.” She stepped further in, nodding to Twilight who was still trying to learn how to draw certain sigils, moving the chalk across the board with care with her face buried in a dingy scroll. “Twilight?”
Twilight had been a tizzy since she got here, and looked up with a great excitement. “Thank you so much for finally letting me back here, Celestia. I’m learning so much! I even have a theory, based on what we’ve learned about stellar nightmare entities.”
It was a topic Celestia knew all too well. Shortly after Starswirl had talked her out of breaking the moon to pull her sister back by force, she began a ceaseless hunt for any information on the shadow she’d sunk herself into to become Nightmare Moon. The most common theory had been they lived on the dark side of the moon, coming to life by the will of ponies’ nightmares, lending a writhing form to their most negative emotions. Contacting one, however, that was always the hard part. Not that Celestia didn’t try…
“Don’t bother her with this, Twilight.” requested Sunset, pushing away from her little desk to stretch. She sidled up beside her queen. “I’m sorry, but we have more pressing matters.”
“Well, hold on, now I’m curious.” Celestia gestured to open the floor to Twilight. “What’s this theory of yours?”
“I’ll admit, it’s a stretch.” said Twilight rather sheepishly as she rolled up the scroll as carefully as possible. “If the theory about how these nightmare entities come to be holds water, that they’re born from residual pony magic over time, and taking to consideration how often forces in the universe come with an opposite, such as chaos and order, and that ponies don’t just have bad dreams but good dreams to—”
“Twilight, could you please get to the theory part of your theory?” Hardly did Sunset really wish to flick through that book any further. But it was a part of helping Luna like she promised.
“I believe it might be possible that similar forces and good dreams containing positive emotions could have also created a theoretical good dream type entity that might reside upon the far side of the sun.” rambled Twilight, breathless from her rapid recitation of information and hypotheticals.
“Huh.” said Celestia very unprofoundly. “I never considered that.”
“It’s purely speculative, mind you.” Twilight reflexively pushed a few stray locks of purple hair back behind one ear. Her bangs were a little frayed from where she hadn’t bothered brushing them in favor of hurrying to the books. Perhaps this was a touch unbecoming of a princess—something she almost forgot she was now and again. “The existence of one force or element does not inherently imply its thematic opposite. And this is to say nothing of mundane and boring dreams where things might still be strange, but the subconscious doesn’t explore any extreme emotions.”
“No, it’s an interesting avenue. I’d love to explore it sometime. Why, if I had thought of it sooner…” Celestia trailed off, her brows folding in, creasing the space between her eyes in a way that betrayed disappointment of a kind. The grimacing curl of her lip extended the visage as her mind ran away with the far-flung possibilities of what could have been.
“Not that we could go and find them if they did exist.” bemoaned Sunset, breaking the fade of silence. “Nightmare entities are spirits of a sort, but they don’t fit the usual categories we could more easily pin down.”
“This much is true.” agreed Twilight with an air of defeat. “Had it been a wraith or banshee, or even fiendish in nature, I could’ve refitted tracking and detection spells half a dozen times over.” She sighed. “Nightmares are simply too underexplored, even here.”
“Dream walking.” said Celestia rather suddenly. Her eyes lit up.
Sunset looked up to her with an utter lack of understanding. “Come again?”
Celestia held up her hoof. Reinvigorated, she told them: “Magic exists that allows you to walk among dreams as though they were but another tangible region of the world. Dream walking.”
“Old world magic…” whispered Twilight with bated breath. It all made sense now. “Of course. That must be how Luna made contact with these entities in the first place.”
“Do you think we could use it to seek this one? How would that even work?” Hopeful as she was to have a solution, Sunset still held doubts.
“They’re born of dreams, right?” gesticulated Twilight. She quickly brushed away the half-baked runes she had been working on and drew a crude cloud and pony upon it. Pointing the chalk piece, she posited: “It stands to reason that if one could somehow manage to maintain their dream walk after ponies started waking up, and the dreams that shaped the landscape you were walking faded, all that would remain visible to you after that would be the subconscious background noise of the id, and maybe even the monsters thereof.”
Sunset watched on as Twilight tried to demonstrate this by getting rid of the cloud, replacing it with wavy lines going outward as though the cloud had dispersed. Somewhere in the dissipation, she added a simplistic ghost figure for emphasis. But unconvinced, Sunset said: “That’s a lot of ifs and maybes though, Twilight.”
Celestia sighed. Whatever hope she’d found in her little revelation had begun to fade. “Luna was the best dream walker there ever was, too. I was never able to do it half as well as her.”
“Then maybe we could ask her to lend a hoof?” suggested Sunset, though she didn’t get quite the reaction she had hoped for.
“That may not be the best course of action.” said Celestia, ponderous and heavy with her words. “The nightmare wants her, after all. We’d be leading her straight to it.”
Then Twilight got an idea. “What if I asked her to teach me to dream walk?”
“Perhaps.” said Celestia. There came a pause, wide as a chasm, separating her from them in that moment of silent contemplation. And in that isolation, she was left to ponder.
“But?” The anticipation grew too much for the youngest royal in the room.
“The realm of dreams can be rather… intense.” Heavy is the brow that bears the crown, and Celestia certainly felt its weight. “The rampant, unfiltered desires of a sentient beings’ subconscious minds plague every field and meadow. I sometimes wondered to myself if it was these very treks among them that broke Luna’s morale…”
The air grew still, even if the flitting dust particles suggested otherwise. Royal and regal these three are and shall be, but all are brought low by despair so utter. They all shuffled a bit where they stood, left with little else but to consider. Eventually, Twilight capped the pause by clearing her throat. “Eh-hem. I’ll, uh, see what I can learn of this magic from the archives. We can reconvene later to discuss our next step.”
Meanwhile, a train trundled along for a town some days’ hike northward of Ponyville. The wind whipped through the dining car as a few patrons took their leave of it. As the doors closed behind them, a set of white feathers shook in an attempt to unruffle. Resettled, Lyone took another bite of her sandwich before looking back at her notepad.
She flipped back the cover with her pointer talon, flipping through the pages that had been tossed back. A new scrawl upon the papers still perplexed her, despite herself. The taunting graphite read: “It? Why Luna have guards? Guards protect Luna from ‘it?’ Why the secrecy?”
Lyone gulped. A first-claw speculation piece from someone who’d gotten so close to the mare of the hour was a big, big opportunity. There was no doubt in her mind this could nab her a much higher place at work, maybe even her own corner office, and free range to go out to see about more stories just like this one. It was a huge chance, and all she had to do was reach out and grab--really sink those talons in.
And yet… was that the career she really wanted? Would her boss even run a speculation piece to begin with? Would he run it under her name? She took another bite. The toasted bread crackled like the fire that burned in her gut. The thought that rang out above all others, though, was of Luna herself.
The way she had been so direct and sincere, during the conference and behind the curtains, Lyone felt it in her heart. To an extent, it made her hate having to ask juicy, loaded questions like that. The thought of doing worse to her, of betraying her trust like this, ate away at her, more voraciously than she could enjoy her lunch.
That notepad sat open until she’d reduced the bread to crumbs. And in the end, she tore the latest page off the spiral ring, crumpling it to toss into the wastebasket nearby before placing her bits on the counter and leaving.
The concept of a decent night of slumber felt a distant memory. The wonders of deep sleep and pleasant dreams were fond recollections. So now, blank nothingness as she snoozed was itself something of a blessing. Hence why irritation set in immediately when a rap-tap-tap roused Pinkie Pie.
She arose with gritted teeth. Whatever had denied her a little more sleep was surely about to get it. But her stiff upper lip trembled anew when she realized the noise had come from her window and not the door. The tapping sounded again beyond the curtains which dimmed her room. She turned away, smacking her cheeks in hopes she’d wake up from another nightmare.
“Pinkie, c’mon girl. I know the bakery’s not opening for another hour, lemme in.”
Pinkie turned back over and propped up on one elbow. Her eyes searched the curtains, half expecting them to burst open. Was that Rainbow Dash?
“It’s Rainbow Dash.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Pinkie pulled back the curtain. Sure enough, Rainbow hovered outside her window in the early light of morn. Rolled up and tucked under the crook of one hoof was a paper or a poster of some kind. Tentatively, Pinkie opened the window to lean upon the sill. “Well hey. What’s up?”
“Hay is for horses.” teased Dash. She pulled upon the roll and unfurled it like a herald for royalty. “But check this out.”
Pinkie’s uncertain blue eyes peered over the colorful image and the lines of text below it. “A concert?”
“Tomorrow night!” exclaimed Dash with great excitement. “You should totally come with me.”
Gripping her own shoulder, Pinkie told her: “I mean, that sounds nice and all, but I dunno, Dash.”
Rainbow scoffed, feigning as though offended. “Whaddya mean you don’t know? It’s a party. But for music. You love parties and music.”
“It’s just…” Pinkie chewed on her lower lip. She was going to make her say it, wasn’t she? Pinkie really did not want to say it out loud. “I don’t get why you’re inviting me.”
“Uh, because you’re the funnest filly I know, duh.” Rainbow finally stowed the poster when she got a rather sheepish look. She didn’t resign just yet. “Also, you’re the only one who would see this band with me, okay? It’s out of genre for AJ and Rarity, probably Luna too. Plus, there’s definitely gonna be a mosh at some point knowing these guys, and Flutters is too polite to thrash with me in the pit.”
“That’s not what I meant.” squeaked out Pinkie. She faded back from her window and let herself slump down onto the side of her bed.
Rainbow growled with discomfort, her guts tightening. They had to have this conversation, didn’t they? Gingerly, she squeezed in through the window and set down beside her. “Look, not that I’m not disappointed or whatever with how that whole bizz with Luna went down—”
“Bizz?” Pinkie wrinkled up her lip. “I betrayed her, Rainbow.” She sighed, wrapping up her knees to bury her head into. “How can any of you face me after that?”
“Yeah. It was a pretty heavy mistake, dude.” Rainbow laid a hoof on her shoulder. That roused those eyes from beyond the peaks of her knees. Face as bold as she could muster, she told her: “But it was still a mistake. And it doesn’t make you a monster.”
Pinkie refused to rise any further just yet. So her voice was muffled when she said: “I sure feel like a monster.”
“See, this is why I’m inviting you.” Rainbow was practically scowling. Beneath her, Pinkie’s eyes only grew with a greater confusion. “All you’ve done since is wallow here, and that’s just not helping.”
“I-I can’t go face her yet, it—”
“Maybe not, but you’ve gotta remember you have your own life to live, outside of her. You need to get out, go do some things.” She placed her other hoof firmly on that remaining uncertain pink shoulder. “Spend some time and move on. In that time, Luna will move on too. Then, after the both of you have moved on, maybe you can reconcile.”
Pinkie had managed to maintain eye contact for a little while. But it faded, along with what little self-assurance she had left. “You really think we can make up?”
Rainbow was almost taken aback. “She really mean that much to you?”
Those words felt so heavy upon Pinkie’s shoulders where Rainbow held her. Her breath left her, and the corners of her eyes began to sting. There came no words, so she merely nodded.
“Dang, girl, I didn’t know you had it that bad.” sighed Rainbow. The firmness of her stance and grip faded, so she sat down next to her friend. “Look. Maybe she’s the one, and you’ll make up eventually, and have a beautiful spring wedding or whatever.”
“W-with daffodils?” meekly asked Pinkie.
Rainbow lost track of her thoughts. And rather than chase them down, she had to know. “Why daffodils?”
“Fake daffodils are common among clowns to spray someone with water as a gag.” explained Pinkie straightforwardly, but with a low droning tone. She pantomimed the act of squeezing a small bladder device and gestured towards where the false corsage would have been. But her heart simply wasn’t in it.
“Okay,” huffed Rainbow, “the flowers aren’t the point. Because maybe she’s not the one, and you’ll have to move on and learn to love again someday, b-but the point I’m trying to make here is…” She drew her wing over Pinkie. “Staying in your room all the time and avoiding your friends isn’t gonna help you move on so any of that can happen.”
“You’re right.” admitted Pinkie. A weight slid from her shoulders, and her head finally lifted up from her knees. “I’ve spent far too long stuck up here in my own head, and… I don’t think that’s been good for me.”
“Maybe getting outta here for a bit will do ya a world of good.” Rainbow pat her across the back.
At a snail’s pace, Pinkie’s head swiveled over. Her eyes vacant all over again, she mewled: “But I have work today.”
“I didn’t mean right this second, you dork.” Turning from loving to playful, Rainbow lightly shoved against her friend. “I was clearly referring to the concert.”
Where Pinkie had intentionally tumbled from the weak push, she looked up at her friend. For the first time in a while, a genuine giggle escaped her. She rolled over, slipping off the bed, and fwip, up she came with a steady thud of her hooves. As her long, straightened hair settled back over one shoulder, she told her with a little delight: “Ya know what? You’re right. I’d love to go dancing with a pal.”
Dash beamed. “Heeeey, now there’s the Pinkie I know. Just you wait, a quick thrash in the pit with me and you’ll spring back.”
A mischievous glee spread across Pinkie’s devious face. If one didn’t know better, they might assume she delighted at the prospect of thrashing and bashing. As Rainbow stood up, Pinkie met her halfway, clasping their hooves together with a healthy click, and said: “I look forward to it.”
“Fantastic! I’ll swing by tomorrow at six and we’ll head there together.” Plans set, Rainbow took her leave. She carefully crouched through the window and soared away.
Pinkie Pie took her sweet time. The window creaked as it closed painfully slowly. Smile fading, she stared at the pane within the frame, expecting it any moment now. Nothing came.
Ear flickering, she knew where next to look. Upon her desk sat the mirror she’d finally started using lately. She stretched her head to the side, and the reflection of her face came into view. Sitting down, she glanced over her reflected self, then around the room in the shiny portal behind her. Still nothing.
Her heart easesd, and her smile came back. “Heh… heheh.”
Silence had never felt so good. When she laughed a couple times, a couple hairs curled up. Compulsively, she reached for her comb to smooth them back down. And as she groomed, she smiled at herself, even humming a little melody, one that sounded so vaguely familiar.
It seemed as though she was finally poised to climb on out of this slump. The voice of her guilt was gone, and she wouldn’t convince herself she was some monster any longer.
“Have a nice one.” said Luna, but the patron didn’t respond. She watched him nervously scurry away with his borrowed books, peering over his shoulder the whole time at the imposing guard on watch who insisted on looming over the counter. Try as she might to stop herself, a little groan of irritation escaped her.
Marble Glade perked up. She had been looking out across the library, keeping an eye on the shadows of every corner. Her life as a soldier had prepped her well for this honor. And now her charge might be in need. “What is it, my lady?”
Drawing breath with considerable effort, Luna closed the space between her open hooves with a resounding click. “Now Marble. I know you’re just trying to do your job, but don’t you think there might be something a tad disconcerting about an armored guard scowling by my side at a library of all things?”
Marble Glade studied Luna’s face a moment, reading the air of disapproval. There came a clink when she felt at her chest piece. “This armor was earned with great honors.” She felt at her face, which luckily sounded much less metallic. “And you think I have a scowly face?”
“I didn’t say your face was scowly, merely your expression.” explained Luna thinly guising her exasperation. She drew a breath to refocus.
“No, I see what it is you’re getting at, my lady.” nodded Marble.
Propping her elbow onto her counter, Luna told her: “And you needn’t call me ‘my lady,’ either. My name would do rather nicely.”
For a tiny moment, the corner of Marble’s mouth nearly cracked into the tiniest of smirks. “Forgive an old knight, Luna. Habits that span decades are tricky to part with.” She peered toward the shelves, where another seeker of text ducked her little head upon noticing her gaze. The ghost of her smile faded once more. “At any rate… what would you have me do? I need to be on hoof should the moment arrive.”
“I should think myself capable of handling that.” complained Luna, knowing full well the suggestion had already been heard and promptly ignored. Though, perhaps it was less about independent combat prowess, and more to do with having to sleep with the two of them in bed rolls in her room. That had been difficult to abide.
“I don’t doubt that, truly I don’t.” Marble could see quite plainly that was unsatisfactory of a response. So with great hesitation, she added: “Your sister doesn’t either. I’ll tell you as she told me: ‘I only want my sister safe, and there’s safety in numbers.’”
“But I have numbers.” complained Luna with frustration. Tossing her powder blue bangs aside, she told Marble: “It is well known that my friends and I bested Nightmare once. We could do it again, surely.”
“But can your friends be at your side at all times?” Much like any good fight, sometimes persuasion required the right angle of attack. Marble found one to press. “They have their little lives to lead, no?”
Luna’s previously assured gaze faltered. And when Marble’s own eyes scrutinized, she cast her view aside. “You’re right. I should loathe to be a burden. Why, I haven’t even told any of them about it yet, I… I don’t want them to worry.”
Marble placed a solemn hoof upon Luna’s shoulder. “Rest assured, Luna. As a knight, my oath is my life. Ruby and I shall see you through this.”
“Fine.” huffed Luna with an air of defeat. “You win. I’ll stop trying to convince you two to abandon your charge.”
Smiles are all good and well. But Marble, she was a prideful one. She merely allowed herself to smirk. “We shan’t let you down.”
“But,” announced Luna with a resurgence of her own pride, “I still want Ruby behind the counter with me instead.” In this, she was resolute. “No offense, but you are a touch intense, and I can’t have you scaring the library’s patrons away.”
“Ruby is…” Marble’s ears folded back. “She’s adequate.”
“She’s approachable.” retorted Luna with a level gaze. “Look at it this way, if we have a softer immediate front, it’ll raise less suspicion that something’s amiss.”
Luna got her way. Ruby took Marble’s place as her shadow, and Marble went upstairs to monitor the perimeter from the windows in the loft. Luna wasn’t wild about a stranger ambling about her room all day, but was nonetheless more at ease having a friendlier face on hoof. Before heading up, Marble’s parting order was: “Call upon me at the first sign of danger, dea—I mean, Ruby. I’m… counting on you.”
“I won’t let you down.” With great resolve, Ruby took to her post, standing tall as she could manage. She remained attentive and vigilant there, a broad smile upon her lips. And then thirty minutes passed. Her chin slipped off her hoof where she’d propped herself up, and her helmet hit the main desk with a heavy thunk!
Luna had been pushing her cart nearby with a few scant out of place books on it when she heard. Hoof to her bemused chin, she said: “Goodness. Lucky you had your helmet on, else that mighty foe would surely have bested you.”
“You don’t think my mom heard that, did she?” Ruby eyed the stairs with great anxiety. “Oh man, she’s counting on me, and I messed up again.”
“Whoa now,” bade Luna in a worried tone, “calm down a moment. It’s alright, it was just a momentary lapse. Happens to me too when there’s less to do around here, especially on weekday mornings like this.”
With a sigh and a heavy heart, Ruby removed her helmet and set it down on the counter she helped overlook. Matted down locks of frizzy blonde hair tumbled over her brow, relaxing and breathing at last as she looked at herself in the warped reflection of the polished steel. Somehow these gilded waves seemed to weigh heavier upon her head than the metal had. “But I can’t keep letting her down.”
Luna glanced about the library. It was thankfully empty at the moment. There were some small graces to slow weekday mornings after all. She ambled over and said: “You know, that doesn’t strike me as a very soldierly hairstyle.”
“I’m overdue for a cut.” bemoaned Ruby, feeling and brushing at her messy bangs.
“Well.” said Luna quite simply. She left it there to hang on the air a moment, slowly bringing up one shoulder, inviting conversation when she finally asked: “Do you wanta cut?”
“I need one.” replied Ruby without a second thought, looking up.
“But do you want one, though?” asked Luna a second time. She had shrugged so high by now, her shoulders nearly reached her jawline. They could go no higher, so she raised her brows instead.
“I don’t follow.” Ruby searched Luna’s face for some hidden meaning, one she couldn’t quite parse.
Luna’s brows fell right back down. Perhaps there was at least one way in which this apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree. Subtle social cues weren’t a strong point for either of them. “Listen, Ruby, I sincerely hope I’m not overstepping here in saying that, well… you don’t seem all that interested in becoming a knight like your mother.”
The look of confoundment upon Ruby’s face slowly turned to that of despair. The words struggled to form on her tightened lip for a moment. “Well. I mean. I dunno.”
“It’s alright if I’m mistaken. Stars above know it wouldn’t be the first time.” Luna gave her a second, readying to keep on with her cart if she’d rather not have this particular conversation.
The door swung open. In strode an excited unicorn, bangs bouncing where her horn parted them with each playful prance. From her bag, she produced a roll of parchment, proudly presenting it before Luna, proclaiming: “Luna, check this out!”
Luna caught Ruby piping up out of the corner of her eye. They’d have to come back to this later. For now, she glossed over the unrolled paper. “Is this good news, then?”
Churlish in expression, Hope-Heart rerolled her poster, stuffing it back into her bag. “It’s a concert, silly.”
“And you’re… inviting me?” Doubtless that had to be the reason for coming around when she’s off for the next two days, but Luna liked certainty.
“I know I said I wanted to keep our relationship at a certain professional distance since you became my boss,” admitted Hope with all the honesty of a traveling merchant in one’s doorway in need of a third no, “but I figured with everything going on lately, you could stand to unwind a little, ya know? Plus you’ll finally get to try some modern music, first-hoof.”
“Nice as that sounds, I’m not sure how my current retainers would take to this.” Luna glanced back toward Ruby. As genuine a concern as it might’ve been, it also worked as a way to let her back into the conversation.
“They can totally come too.” said Hope without missing a beat. A wicked thought occurred to her, and she added: “I bet that tall one would do great in a mosh pit.”
Ruby chuckled aloud, despite trying to hide it. “She’d probably wreck half the crowd and not even notice.”
“See, that’s the spirit.” jeered Hope, skipping over to the counter. She leaned upon it, looking Ruby up and down. “Say, Ruby was it?”
Clutching the loose helmet to her chest, the squat pegasus could hardly manage to cough up a response. “Uh. Yes?”
“I never caught you with your helmet off before.” added Hope with a bright smile. She moved on as Ruby tried to stammer a response to that. “I kinda like your hair. You know your way around a mosh?”
“Um.” said Ruby, the grapefruit shade of her cheeks deepening to a red not unlike the type of wine ripe for causing the exact kind of drunk-like confusion and loss for words she felt. “I-I’ve been through basic training, so—”
“Great,” interrupted Hope with glee, “it’s practically the same thing.”
“Well,” said Luna in a monotone, “you certainly seem excited.” Ponderous, Luna’s gaze swiveled around toward the stairs to her loft. Up there lied in wait she who needed more convincing than her. “But I’m not so certain.”
“Aw c’mon, Luna. Don’t you want to get out of the library for something that isn’t errands or your wider obligations to your country or whatever?”
It was oddly specific, but she wasn’t wrong. Head drooping, she bemoaned that: “It won’t be easy to convince her.”
“Let’s go for it.” spoke up Ruby. When eyes of blue and red were all on her, she added: “What better way to keep up appearances that Luna definitely doesn’t have some greater threat to worry about than her being seen at a public venue, having fun?”
“Ha,” hooted Hope, “that’s the ticket, Ruby. You two can work out the rest of the nitty gritty, I have to go meet my sister for brunch.”
Luna gawked at her, ever so slightly agape. “I didn’t know you had a sister.”
“Funny story, she actually plays the bass guitar for this band.” Hope-Heart’s grin grew at a crooked slant. “I don’t bring her up super often, she’s like, really embarrassing. You know how sisters are.”
A wistful sigh escaped Luna. “I most certainly do.”
“I’d better get going. Let’s meet thirty minutes ahead at the square and head over together. It’ll be fun, Luna, you’ll see.” Before Hope fully closed the door behind her, she leaned back in. “I’ll see you around too, Ruby.”
Ruby’s ear flickered at the click of the door. She turned her head to watch her pass underneath the far window before she was all but gone. Facing Luna once more, Ruby gently set her helmet back upon the counter. “I don’t think I want a haircut anymore.”
Pursing her lips, Luna tried to parse her meaning. The latch caught rather quickly, though. Her brows shot up, and a coy smirk accompanied them. “Ohhhhh? Like the compliment, did we?”
“Luna, we’ve gotta go to this concert.” said Ruby quietly.
“I’m not opposed, though I’m less convinced about your excuse. It feels a bit simplistic.” complained Luna dourly. Considering the stubbornness she had come to know in Marble, she felt naught but doubt. “I’m just not sure this will work.”
The next night, Luna found herself ambling through town on a cool fall night. Leading the way, Hope-Heart tread with great confidence in her second-hoof black boots, and a simple dress to match their hue, strung over her shoulders with thin straps.
By her side, Ruby gladly kept pace, metal pieces of armor left behind in favor of her oversized tunic, the hem of which flowed over her thighs. With it, she wore a simple white scarf. She walked along, Luna noted, with a greater ease, seemingly brighter in demeanor than when she marched about in her armor.
Less light on her hooves, Marble brought up the rear. Similarly, she too wore a relatively simple tunic, though hers was much less loose and flowing compared to Ruby’s. The size of their tunics were comparable, even if their builds certainly weren’t.
Trailing behind, but just ahead of Marble, Luna herself sported a plain white dress with a simple form. And worn over the otherwise exposed shoulders was a jacket for the cool fall night air, made of a most novel material: jean. Rarity assured her, the material had a credibility for a retro chic owed to its rugged and old fashioned sturdiness. Also, the jacket was within her budget, and the blue played well enough with her complexion and hair.
Again she found herself comparing her new life to the old. In days gone by, she would have been given silks and satins and jewelry of painfully bright glitter and gleam to attend a social function. Here and now, she wore jean. How quaint. Yet in a way, the jean felt more comfortable, more deserved.
“Those two have become rather tightly knit.” said Marble. Perhaps it might have been a complaint, but her stoic nature masked it well.
“Hope-Heart complimented her hair earlier.” explained Luna quietly as they looked along. It was not information she felt some shame in sharing, but she hoped to relay the observation without pressuring Ruby in the process. When glancing over her shoulder, she saw Marble had stopped in her tracks.
“I see.” announced Marble. Then she started walking again and quickened her pace to catch back up to Luna. “She does have pretty hair. Just like her father’s.”
“Touchy subject?” Luna veered to one side as she walked to give Marble room in more ways than one. This felt like the first heart to heart she’d gotten to have with her.
“Only slightly.” admitted Marble unexpectedly, though with an expectedly cool tone. “Though, in this instance, it happens to be because I always envied his hair.”
“I’m sure yours would be a fine mane, should you let it grow out.” She offered Marble a friendly grin, and quite shockingly, received one in kind.
“Believe me or don’t, in my youth I wore an inky black mohawk, swept to one side.” Nodding to Hope ahead of them, Marble chuckled and added: “I’d give your assistant a run for her money on broody cuts.”
An arch high enough to suspend a bridge by rose upon Luna’s brow. “Really now?”
“Somehow I knew I’d get a response like that.” bemoaned Marble, acutely aware of her lack of a mane. “I’d say I got rid of my mane to make constantly wearing a helmet easier. But I’m honor-bound not to lie…”
Nodding at her as they walked, Luna gestured for what came after that. “So?”
“So I simply won’t tell you.” She drew a sharp breath and turned her head up and away. It was, after all, unbecoming for a knight to laugh at her charge, even if she did whine like a foal. So she suppressed it. “Alright, alright, calm down, would you? Heh, okay, it looks like we’re here, at any rate.”
Luna ceased her complaining about the lack of an answer she’d received. In truth, she’d not seen this part of town before. Here, the buildings crowded together more snugly, and before them, the line stretched before a long, narrow one that didn’t just occupy this street’s corner, but reached back to take up the far street’s corner as well. Along the long, long side, a few idle carts sat, likely transport for any equipment brought for the performers.
Meanwhile, in line stood Pinkie and Rainbow, putting on their best bad girls without a care in the world between them routine. Each wore a pleather jacket made for feeling the winds whip through your hair; Rainbow’s was black, and Pinkie’s white. They leaned against the wall as they waited, stoic facades both, but secretly waiting for the height of the night where the music would be at its most exciting, and the throngs of the audience would begin to thrash.
Then Pinkie saw her, and the facade faded. Luna strode on by with all these new friends, seemingly carefree. She didn’t notice her in line with Rainbow, she was far too busy talking to Hope-Heart and those other two. That tall mare next to her added something, and she laughed that laugh that Pinkie missed.
A single hoof left the line as Pinkie abandoned the wall. She didn’t want to be here, not if she might bump into her. She just wasn’t ready for that. But she stayed in place, realizing that they were heading to the street corner, not getting in line. Standing stiffly a moment, she saw them slowly vanish beyond the far side of the building’s exterior.
“Yo, Pinks, you okay?” Rainbow approached her with a heavy sense of caution.
“Can I ask you something?” asked Pinkie rather flatly, not turning her head.
Dash had a feeling she might regret entertaining this. “Sure.”
“Would you have invited Gilda to this concert?” Pinkie left those words upon the air, and there they hung, suspended amidst the idle chatter of the crowd. They were not the only friends there that evening, so she solemnly swung her head about to gauge if Rainbow had heard her.
“Yeesh, that’s a pretty loaded question.” admitted Dash with ponderous weight to her words. She hesitated, scratching at the back of her neck, until those pleading sky blue eyes became too much. “I mean, I guess it depends, ya know?”
“Whaddya mean?” begged Pinkie with an onset of weakness to her voice.
“It depends on if she was actually sorry.” told Rainbow bluntly. Leaning back against the wall, she crossed her hooves. Trying to avoid eye contact, she added: “When I heard you’d been avoiding the girls, I had to see for myself. That’s really it, I guess.”
Pinkie tilted her head. “You guess?”
“Look.” sighed Rainbow. She begrudgingly made eye contact and said: “You’re not some monster, you’re just a girl who messed up. Like, the big thing is ya seem to know you messed up, right?”
There was a certainty to how she felt about the whole situation. Not a day had gone by yet she didn’t regret what she’d done and ponder what she’d trade to undo her misdeeds. They seemed to haunt her like a spirit. But putting all of that into words was a struggle, one she couldn’t seem to overcome. So instead, Pinkie slowly nodded, acknowledging her fault.
“That’s the first step to moving on.” The next part, Dash was less proud to admit. “Plus I guess this was kinda selfish of me. I’ve already lost one best friend, I didn’t want to have to give up another.”
Pinkie felt a weak smile coming on. It had been too long. She put her hooves around her and squeezed. The material of their jackets made a crinkly squeaking sound.
“All right, all right,” groaned Rainbow, “that’s enough of the mushy stuff.” The crinkling went on and her feathers bristled up. Finally, Pinkie let go.
“Thanks, Rainbow. You’re a real good friend.”
Beyond their sight, beyond the bend of the intersection, Hope-Heart led her confused entourage up to the backstage entrance. Perhaps it was funny to call it that, since it was very clearly along the long side of the building. Here at street level lay a decently sized door, likely intentionally wide enough to ease the flow of equipment and personnel. She pranced up and gave it solid couple knocks.
“You still haven’t explained why you’ve brought us around the side.” complained Luna. Anxiously, she peered toward the corner of the building. She hadn’t been paying attention to the line, but certainly noticed its length. “They’ll be letting the audience in soon, shouldn’t we queue up?”
“It’s like I said.” Hope explained vaguely. She heard someone approaching the door, and gestured toward the reward for their patience. “My sister’s in the band.”
The door popped inward and out sprang a maroon unicorn filly. She was of a similar build to Hope, and while their hair was the same only shade of black, hers was a mop of onyx waves that engulfed the base of her horn and seemed to cover her eyes. Which is what made it so surprising she was able to recognize her sister by sight. “Hope, you made it!”
“Heya, Red.” said Hope with an underplayed sort of enthusiasm as she opened her hooves to welcome the oncoming hug.
Red turned to look at the ponies she’d brought. But again, her bangs should not have allowed for this. Neither did she make the effort to lift them. “All of you get in here, it’s nice to meet ya. We’ve got 15 minutes before the doors open, so ya better hurry if you wanna see the band and pick your spots.”
In they went at her behest. And behind them, Red shut the door right with a resounding thud.
Author's Note
Frantically typing into google: "How do I end a chapter in a work of fiction?"
“Get a lookit you.” cooed Red once she had a chance to really look them over. Her voice dripped slow, like honey off a spoon. “What’s a tall, righteous thing like you doing in a place like this? You got a name?”
“Luna.” stammered Luna. She wasn’t sure what confounded her more; being eyed up like a fine dish by a salivating diner, or that the flattery felt rather nice for once.
“Ha.” she scoffed, throwing her head back. A maroon hoof reached up with utterly playful intent, and as her gaze leveled back out, it swept some of that dark mop to one side. The one eye she revealed was piercing and cool, glacier blue with flecks of white glinting. “I totally already knew that. I just wanted to hear you say it.”
Hope-Heart stepped into a staredown, her bright red eyes shunning her sister’s icy blue. She lifted a hoof between Luna and Red. “I told you, Red-Heart, this one’s spoken for.” Less confidently, she put her hoof to her chin and added: “Sort of. It’s complicated.”
“Tch.” Red-Heart let her hair fall back down with an air of disappointment. “All of ‘em off limits?”
“Would you listen to me this time if I said yes?” asked Hope with zero trust, turning her nose up while narrowing her gaze.
“Depends on how interested they’d be, haha!” Despite the low light, Red-Heart’s toothsome laugh gleamed pearly white.
Rolling her red eyes, Hope pulled a folder out of her bag. “Just take this and please don’t flirt with any of my new friends.”
“Aw, sweet!” beamed Red. Her horn produced a cool blue glow, and she flipped through the papers within, growing more excited with each new page she glossed over. She called out: “Onyx, get the bits for my sis!”
A moment later, a tall, skinny unicorn colt with a dark, dark coat stepped into the hall. Upon his narrow torso, he wore a loose-fitting white mesh top, and at the ends of his long, lanky legs, he wore silver bangles above his hooves. Coming in, he pushed his messy white undercut to one side. “Right on? I hope I wasn’t too pushy on some of those changes I wanted.”
“Nah,” insisted Red, passing the folder to him, “you know Hope is cool.”
Looking it over with his speckled gray eyes, he liked what he read, brief as he was. One could tell from the nodding more than anything, though, as he seemed to wear a resting face of apathy, intentional or not. “Oh yeah, these match the new melody I’ve been working on much better than the last draft. Thanks so much, Hope.”
“Aw, it was nothing.” She was rather bashful about it, though a hint of pride lingered or those who knew her well enough to pick up on it.
“Cherry!” bellowed Onyx in a voice that held a surreal mix of nasally treble, and monotonic bass. “Sorry to yell like that, Cherry is in charge of the lockbox and merch.” He waved to Hope’s entourage, adding: “Hello, by the by. I’m Onyx, in case you couldn’t tell by Red here shouting my name.”
As they exchanged pleasantries, Luna asked Hope: “What’s the folder? I knew you said your sister was in the band, but you didn’t mention that part.”
“Ah.” said Hope, suddenly very abashed. “Well, you see, Luna—”
Red interrupted, pulling her sister in nice and close, much to her chagrin. “Hope didn’t tell ya? Oh man, she’s the best poet in Ponyville. We commission her to write our lyrics.” She turned her, aiming some ire further in, adding: “At least, we do when somepony gets her dang money for her!”
“Wow, I had no idea.” said Luna, bemused. “Hope, you are full of surprises.”
Hope-Heart wriggled out from her sister’s embrace. Fixing her hair, she smiled timidly. “Heh, well, you know…”
“Cherry!” bellowed Red once more, unintentionally shutting out whatever it was Hope was going stammer out in reply.
“Awright, would ya relax? I was helping with the final sound check, yeah?” Where Red had the most bass to her voice, followed by Onyx, this one held the highest pitch. She was a pegasus quite on the short side; a full head shorter than even Ruby, and she had been the squattest of the group thus far.
“Alright, sorry girl, didn’t know.” Red became far more sheepish. Though, any amount of timidness compared to her blister-forth confident attitude thus far was a drastic shift. “This here’s Cherry Pit, the third and final member of our humble ensemble.”
“Please. My stage name is Cherry Bomb.” She spoke like someone who did not let a little thing like stature bother her. Or at least, she tried not to. Her coat was mottled, with a splotchy transition from a reddish orange on top to yellow underneath, giving her the look of a particular breed of her namesake. Cherries, that is; not bombs, nor pits. Her mane was long, straight, and dark, dark red. Peering out from under the perfect, curved line her bangs created were eyes of sweet, light, minty bluish green.
“I see that look in your eyes.” spoke up Red-Heart, somewhat nervously. Mostly, the rest of them were still unconvinced she could see anything. “I promise you we didn’t rope some random high schooler in to be our drummer. Cherry’s just… fun-sized!”
“I woulda told them ‘bout how I’m just short if they asked, Red.” huffed Cherry. Her head tilted to one side to sell her air of disappointment, and her mane became the ruddy crimson cape of an indignant noble.
“Aw, I know, Cher, but you get so tired of always having to explain yourself to folks.” Sidling up beside her, Red nudged Cherry’s shoulder with her elbow. “We’re all partners here, so we share burdens and boons alike together.”
Still seemingly expressionless, Onyx hoisted the two of them into his ample span, paying no mind to the tumbling metal box he caused Cherry to drop in the process. It wasn’t that surprising he could lift her, but his slightly diminutive figure made the addition of Red something of a feat to behold. “Ditto what Red said.”
“Guys?” A stagehoof peered in, but paused when he realized he was interrupting. Once he had the attention of the bandmates, he said: “You’re on in ten. Better let those VIP’s find a spot in the crowd, too.”
“You heard him.” said Cherry, breaking free. “I love you guys too. Best thing to happen to me, both of ya, et cetera.” She slammed through the numbers on the lockbox and started counting out coins with rapid movements which betrayed the limber hooves of a percussionist. “But speaking of share, let’s get Hope hers and get out there.”
From nearby, Onyx produced a small case. It opened with a pop, and a tiny bit of reddish dust flitted through the air. His magical aura of soft, dull white pulled on three narrow brushes, and with a tilt, the bright red pigment practically glowed. “Alright, pucker up, everyone.”
“Aw, can’t I take mine off your lips?” jeered Red. When he simply gawked at her in that unflinching way he always did, she didn’t pucker, but pout. One of the brushes quickly patted between her lips and the pigment until her ruddy maroon kisser became a bright carnation crimson. When he was done, she shivered and said: “C’mon, Onyx, you know I’m just kidding, sorry. Put the evil eye away.”
With eyes distinctively not evil, Onyx repeated the process for himself and Cherry, even as she kept counting. Pulling a spare brush from the case, he asked: “Would any of the VIP’s like me to paint your lips as well? Then the whole crowd will know you got to meet us back here.”
The general consensus was a no thank you, and one might swear he looked just the tiniest bit dejected while doing his own. Then, while stowing her commission without doubting Cherry with a secondary count, Hope also took charge. Leading her friends along the way to the crowd-adjacent stage exit, she called back: “Break a leg!”
Much quieter, Ruby leaned over as they went, and said: “Your sister is, uh… a little intense.”
“She’s hopeless.” retorted Hope with a wry grin. “Stole every boyfriend I ever had.”
“Boyfriends?” squeaked Ruby in surprise, her voice stung with the slightest twinge of disappointment. Still, she hung onto every word, and hoped that wasn’t noticed.
Hope, possibly not picking up on it, gave her a rakish look, and added: “Couple of my girlfriends too, just for good measure.”
“Ah.” reacted Ruby, her ear flickering. She couldn’t conjure much else to configure a real response, so she flatly said: “I see.”
“Hey, don’t look so worried.” added Hope with an easier air about her. “It was a long time ago, so it’s all water under the bridge. She may be a hopeless flirt still, but I love my sis, and there’s no more bad blood between us.”
“That’s good,” droned Ruby with her best attempt at a convincing face, “and definitely the thing I was worried about.”
Snickering, Hope supposed: “So I guess in one way, she isn’t ‘hopeless,’ see?”
“Oh my gosh,” wheezed Ruby, “that was terrible.” She giggled until she snorted, then covered her mouth up right away.
“Wow. You have got the cutest laugh, Ruby.” cooed Hope in a reassuring tone.
Behind them, Marble realized Luna’s pace had slowed, and caught her looking back. “Luna? Having second thoughts about tonight?” The part she didn’t say out loud though was that she certainly was. Yet still, she got no attention and no response, so she said again: “Luna?”
“Actually, you girls go find a spot. I’ll catch up with you.” Turning about on her heels, Luna trotted back towards Onyx.
“What are you going to do?” requested Marble of her as she hesitated. Looking forth, Hope and Ruby ahead of her heeded Luna’s promise to find them later and kept on their merry way.
“Something spontaneous!” she said with a trepidatious glee in her voice. Her coming back was a surprise to Onyx, who set aside the last of the equipment he was moving. Nervous, yet giddily, she told him: “I changed my mind. I want the full VIP treatment.”
His own crimson lips curved in ever so slightly in one corner, and he once again produced his little makeup case right away. “Then tonight you are an honorary member of the Lined Lips.”
Luna couldn’t help but chuckle as he painted her lips. “It’s an honor. Ah, I can’t remember the last time I really cut loose like this.” More pleading and hushed, she leaned in and asked him: “That is the right term, isn’t it? Cut loose?”
“You are precious.” he said, not exactly laughing on the outside. Faintly, what seemed like a sigh or a quick breath escaped him. It must have been a singular, low chuckle. “My boyfriend is gonna flip when he hears about this.”
“I’d gladly meet him if he’d like.” She figured he must mean the fellow in question might be a fan of her escapades over the summer. Earlier on in that same season, she met many such ponies, to a point of admittedly tiring of them. “Things have calmed down a great deal since the Summer Sun incident, so I wouldn’t mind.”
Onyx’s speckled gray eyes began to sparkle. “He’d love that, but also, I think I just had a great idea. If you’re okay with it, of course.”
Rainbow Dash came back with a cup, weaving through the crowd as best she could. “You sure you don’t want a drink? I bet I could getcha one and be back in time. Don’t know if you’ve heard, but I am pretty fast.”
“Nah.” Pinkie dismissed the notion with an equally flippant motion of her hoof. “I don’t need one to have a good time. I just need to jam and mosh and forget about my problems for a bit.”
Rainbow tapped the back of her free hoof against Pinkie’s lapel, a faux mocking look rippling across her face. “Might take a few concerts to get through all of them.”
“Haw haw.” Rolling her eyes, she put one hoof over Rainbow’s shoulder. She wore a smug look of self-impressedness, and said: “Look, pal, maybe you should leave the jokes to the professionals here. Amateur like you could hurt yourself trying to do what we do.”
“Right,” mused Dash, “real risky business.” She quieted down as the crowd surged with volume and excitement. The band had finally taken the stage.
Onyx brushed his undercut to the side and pulled on his electric guitar from its comfortable stand. It had a nice, pearlescent white body. He affixed a picking bracelet to his dominant hoof and waited for his bandmates to get ready.
Red-Heart, when she was done blowing kisses for the crowd, threw her black jacket aside and put on not one, but two pick bracelets. And over her own neck, she draped the heavy strap to a beast of a shiny ebon double neck bass.
Cherry Bomb grabbed a high stool behind a special drum kit, fixing her own bracelets on to play, with loose bases that snapped onto the drumsticks. Each piece of the kit itself sat at a far more aggressive angle than they usually might for your average drummer. Cherry was not average, however, in more ways than one.
“Hello, Ponyville!” cheered Red into her mic, and the crowd cheered back. “Ah, haha, I am so excited to be here tonight!”
“We all are.” agreed Onyx, and in return, he got a much more subdued cheer. It was a perfect match for his demeanor, so he gave them a teeny, tiny smile.
“Wow,” whistled Red, “you guys are really getting to him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this energized!” She leaned back and asked: “And how’s our little Cherry Bomb?”
“Enough talk, when do I get to hit it?” An electrical whine of protest rang out as she wrenched her mic down to sound off.
“Easy, girl, all in due time.” Red gestured her maroon hoof over to just off stage. Tugging on an invisible chord, she announced: “First, we’d like to introduce a very special guest.”
“It’s a Lined Lips first, everyone.” added Onyx to hype up the crowd, himself not actually providing any of said hype. He eyed a certain corner of the room, though, hoping he held their attention.
“You know her. You all love her. And I can’t blame ya, woof!” Again, Red pulled her little string, and the crowd rumbled with anticipation. “Once the mistress to the night, now savior of the day, Ponyville’s own local hero!”
Luna’s legs felt heavy, and her movements sluggish. Again she found herself raised into bright lights before a shaded crowd. Although, this one seemed far happier to see her. Her bright red lips wavered into a nervous smile. She wasn’t quite sure why she agreed to this. Spontaneity?
“Oh crud,” sighed Dash in the crowd, “is that—”
“It’s Luna!” blared Red-Heart, and the crowd went wild.
“Think I’ll take that drink now.” droned Pinkie, snatching the cup from Rainbow and downing it in one go. She shivered with the last drop, gasping. “Ah, okay, I’m ready to handle this now. Or maybe after another.”
Before Pinkie could get away to the concessions, Rainbow yanked her back and narrowed her eyes. “Pinkie, this is an all ages event. That was literally just punch, girl.”
“Oh.” Pinkie licked a few drops off her lip, just then realizing it was fruity and delicious, even if she was fairly confident she could make better punch than this. “I knew that.”
Taking the empty cup, Dash said: “Yeah, no you didn’t. Are you gonna be okay? I mean, it’s okay if you’re not okay. We don’t have to be here if you’re not.”
“No.” sighed Pinkie. “I mean, it’s…” She looked at her up there, posing for the crowd, and showing that bright smile she loved seeing. “I can’t avoid her forever. Not if I’m ever going to make things right. So. Let’s stay.”
“‘Ey. These ponies came here for music, not some tall-dark-and-handsome number.” Cherry flew up, dragging her whining mic along in another bout of staticy pain as she insisted on being seen moreso than just over her rims.
“You think I’m handsome?” quietly asked Luna, not realizing how close she was to a microphone. Hearing her voice over the speakers sent flustered spirals through her cheeks, and the crowd ate it up.
Laughing so loud, it rang out even over the crowd, Red threw her head back. Coming back, she practically howled into the mic. “Hoooooooo boy! Why don’t y’all make some noise if you think the hero of Ponyville is kinda hot?”
An ear-splitting whistle sounded off, managing to deafen the roiling crowd and their bawdy baying. Rainbow winced, glancing to her side. Abashed, Pinkie reluctantly said: “What? She totally is, okay?”
“Alright, everyone. Let’s simmer down and not embarrass the poor girl too much, okay?” Onyx made a motion of pushing down against the disappointed noise. As she tried to leave the stage behind, he beckoned her back. “But you’re right, we didn’t make her an honorary member of Lined Lips to gawk at her good looks. So maybe she’d like to sing for us.”
“Wwwwwhat?!” Luna spun around. She got just close enough to share the microphone with Onyx to address the crowd as well as the band. “I-I couldn’t, I mean, I’m still learning about new music.”
“Sing some old music, then.” said Cherry, not having that. It wasn’t clear if she actually wanted to hear Luna’s singing voice or not, but it was apparent she wanted to move on either way.
“Oh, great idea.” agreed Red. “She must’ve been there when some classic bards’ songs were written.”
Luna began to object anew, but a fuzzy memory crept in. At the start of this week, she’d found herself reminiscing back to that time she’d happened upon Celestia hiding in the garden to practice that old summer hymn. “Well,” said Luna ponderously, “is that truly what the crowd desires?” A wave of agreement washed over her. So she stood a little taller, musing: “Heheh, I suppose if there’s one thing my time as a princess taught me, it’s that you ought not disappoint a crowd.”
Luna sang out a hymnal so ancient, its castles would surely all have crumbled to dust by now, had it any. It was dedicated to bright, sunny summer days, with their pleasant warmth and necessary toil alike. The lyrics drifted over the hushed crowd, weaving wheat to bread in the gilded light of the heavens. And all of it, every single word, was lost on the beautiful air to Pinkie in the crowd.
“Wow.” she whispered in something akin to awe as the crowd applauded, and at the band’s insistence, Luna bowed to them. The grace, the poise; she was stunning.
“You okay, Pinkie? Lookin’ a little slack-jawed there, bud.” Rainbow tried in vain to get her attention. She was lost off in her own little world.
Did I ever deserve her in the first place? thought Pinkie as the regret racked her mind, like a ton of brick or stone from a collapsed castle wall. No, this was different. It was as though she’d been there when the wall came down, and came back to lament the rubble. But also she was the one who knocked the wall over, she guessed. Her mind swam, and the metaphor fell apart.
“Thank you so much for joining us tonight, Luna.” Onyx finished clicking his hooves together for her and gestured around the stage. “It was an honor. And I can speak for the whole band on this, since they’re not as good at expressing themselves as I am.”
A chuckle surged through the crowd. Oh yes, they had some regulars here tonight. Red-Heart, her head held high, grooved across the stage, one good hoof-shake ready for Luna. When it was accepted, she leaned in to whisper where no microphone would pick up. “By the way, don’t be afraid to tell me to back off. I’ll respect your bounds, I swear. I try to be a flirt, not a creep, ya know?”
Luna smirked in a way that might almost seem a touch pained to a random onlooker. Luckily, there were only several dozens of those beyond the lip of the stage, now ooh-ing and ah-ing with all the wrong assumptions. Trying to keep composure, Luna whispered back: “Toning it down a tad wouldn’t hurt. Let’s just say I’ve only recently settled on my preferences, and it’s been a little overwhelming as I get used to liking what I see.”
“Oh,” mumbled Red as their hooves parted, “is that right?” This was an odd sensation; were her cheeks abnormally warm? Was she coming down with something? This wasn’t terribly convenient, considering she’d have to start playing now. “Liking what you see…”
“Bahaha!” rang out Cherry’s laugh, her voice surprisingly filling the room. “She musta got you good if you’re the flustered one for once.”
“Hn-hm.” When they looked over to Onyx’s mic, they actually saw his teeth.
Red dragged over her mic stand and shouted: “Okay dude, it wasn’t that funny!”
“Right, sorry.” he muttered back. “I’ll try to calm down. Let’s hear one last hoof for our special guest, then I figure we’ll probably start.”
“Yeah,” complained Cherry as they cheered for Luna once more, “it’s been great, love ya, but join us in song or get off the stage already.”
“R-right.” agreed Luna, stammering into Onyx’s microphone. “Thank you for having me, and thank you, Ponyville for ah, having me also!” She dashed up to the edge of the stage, spread her wings, and soared headlong over the crowd. No attempt was made to locate Hope or Ruby. Even less was made to spot Marble. Instead, Luna rushed over the cheers straight toward the counter in the way back where they served concessions.
“One! Two! Three! Four!” shouted Cherry Bomb in what seemed like a farther distance than it could have been, the click of her smacking one drumstick onto the other growing so puny, they might as well have been toothpicks.
“A drink, please.” pleaded Luna as she set two coins upon the counter with a considerable huff.
The server was a magenta earthen colt. He slid one coin back to the edge where she stood, and a cup along behind it. He told her: “It’s only one bit for a punch, miss Luna.”
She slid the second coin his way a little more firmly this time. “Sorry, look, I’m--I try to tip where I can.”
Less apprehensive now, he slid the spare coin into the pocket on his apron. She seemed like she could use some space, though, so he made to give her some, leaving her be after telling her: “Thanks.”
Drawing breath in deep down into her core, Luna tried to clear her mind. The reserved press hanging on her very word had been one thing, and she even had her sister nearby for that. Somehow, the cheers and admiring eyes were worse. She couldn’t quite concentrate on her telekinetic grip, so she just clamped her hooves on either side, hoisting the cup to her lip. Another deep breath was necessary after she downed it all in one go. Cool and refreshing as it was, she ached for something a little stronger. Or a lot stronger, even. Perhaps… it wouldn’t hurt to ask?
“Excuse me, so sorry to bother you again.” she meagerly said, sliding over to reapproach the server.
“Sure, I can get you a refill.” he said, almost glad to see her brightened up, offering to take her cup back.
Luna held the paper cup in reserve for a moment. “Well, that’s just it. I was wondering if you had anything a little more… appropriate for a pony my age, so to speak.”
Catching her meaning right away, he still hesitated. “Well, this is an all ages event. We’re really not supposed to serve any of that tonight. Buuuuuuut, nopony else is around to see, so maybe I can make a quick exception.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” She waved for him to stop as he began to crouch behind the counter and reach for cases to show her what options she had. She peered over either shoulder. The crowd was nigh completely coalesced around the stage, so it was just the two of them. Turning back, she said: “It’s okay. You really don’t have to break the rules on my account.”
He seemed almost disappointed. “I figured I could do the hero of Ponyville a little favor, just between us.”
“I don’t want special treatment.” she said, exasperated. “I’d much rather be treated like a normal pony.” She propped one elbow onto the counter, and her cheek callously squished against her tired hoof. Her other hoof put the cup back onto the counter, followed by two more coins. “I’ll just take a refill, thanks.”
One coin went into his lockbox, and the other found its lost partner in his apron pocket. As he poured her a fresh cup, he said: “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend, or nothing.”
“It’s quite alright.” she said, trying to put on a more reassuring tone. “It’s not your fault, I’m sorry for snapping. But I didn’t venture out with my friends to wrench the sun from a Nightmare’s grasp so strangers would do me favors. I did it because it was my duty.”
He set down her cup anew and whistled. “Wow, you’re really something. Like a holy warrior of old.”
“Hm.” Without meaning to, Luna mimicked the subdued sort of laugh she expected from her brief time with Onyx. Taking her cup with a nod, she more confidently declared: “You don’t know the half of it, friend.”
The first song came to a close behind them, and Onyx very politely said: “Thank you, thank you. This next one might be a little rough; it’s off our new album, and we’re still working on it. We just got the newest draft from our wonderful lyricist.” A spotlight above the stage began to wander aimlessly over the crowd. “Let’s see if--ah, there she is. Can we get a little applause? She’s the glue to our three-part harmony.”
Luna watched as Hope shyly waved to the approving crowd. Knowing where she is in the crowd meant she could rejoin her, and she made up her mind to do so. No more drowning down the pity with punch. So she polished off the rest with one last thank you to her server, and made her way toward dealing with the crowd.
Author's Note
Fun fact, I had zero concept for what this band would look like, or what their band name would be right up until I had to actually write it down. And I think I love them.
I should give this another pass, but I was excited to have gotten this much down in a week. Guess I just flow better when I'm getting to indulge in my favorite activity: coming up with quirky incidental characters. My D&D group could certainly attest to that.
Part 6: Lost in the crowd.
Luna loped along on her lanky legs. The gently bobbing heads dipping with each thrum of the bass drumbeat became a simple enough course of obstacles to her. She pardoned and excused her way through, trying to keep one eye pinned on where she’d last seen the light spy on Hope.
“Would you mind keeping your head down?” gently asked another patron as she passed. “No offense, Luna, but you’re a bit on the tall side for some of us.”
“Terribly sorry.” she told them and sank her head beneath the surface of the crowd. Her way became difficult to navigate, but she tried to maintain a steady course. But while all her attention was on the surging waves of dancers and hoppers, her port side bow brushed against something. Her head once more rose above the brine. “So sorry, please excuse me.”
Pinkie Pie might have let her go on by. Accidents happen after all. But she realized that though the crowd bounced to the music around her, and she wasn’t moving. There was a recognition wrapped up in that stillness, one she reluctantly turned to face. “Oh, it’s no trouble at all, stranger.”
Though their voices were raised to be picked up over the cheers as Red tore away under each neck, her magical grip pinning and plucking at both sets of strings, it was as though they were alone in the world, soft as whispers. Luna tried to smile. Their last interaction had been a touch sour, and it wasn’t one she’d hoped to repeat. At least, not anytime soon. Pensive, she said: “Fancy meeting you here.”
“I guess we’re just little ponies in a small world.” Pinkie laughed nervously. She wished Rainbow hadn’t disappeared further into the crowd. Then again, it wasn’t fair to rely on her. This was her mess to clean up. It felt like cake fallen to the dusty ground; something sweet she’d clumsily dropped. And though the distraction had been nice, it wasn’t the proverbial broom and dustpan she needed.
They stood there silently for a miniature eternity, the music washing over them like they were pebbles in a stream. Once Luna felt sufficiently smoothed by the running water, she finally spoke up. “Well. See you around, I guess.”
“Wait.” Pinkie reached out, but stopped short of actually putting a hoof on her. Somehow, she felt she really ought to not touch her, that she didn’t deserve to touch her. Gripping her recoiling hoof at her heart, she said: “Please.”
Ducking down for her was as much a courtesy meant for any others unfortunate enough to get caught behind that towering awkward mare. But it also brought Luna to eye level with Pinkie. Those light blue eyes didn’t seem as hardened as last she saw them, so she stayed. “Yes?”
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” She put her hoof to the side of her head to help her think, trying to pin down every little thing on a nice, neat list in her mind she could recite for her. This did not work. “For everything, b-but this time specifically for earlier this week.”
“Well,” Luna said, dejected, “admittedly, I should l have respected your space. We aren’t really, erm, at a place right now where I think it’d be terribly appropriate for either to be touching the other.”
“Still, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. That was so unfair.” Pinkie shook her head. Her limp magenta locks swayed in a way that an onlooker not in on the conversation might assume was to the rhythm of Cherry’s drum solo. Those closer by, however, caught a few words and awkwardly tried to give them a little distance. Pinkie felt their motion around her and recalled the judgemental looks she’d gotten at the gala for having the gall to converse with one of her betters.
Luna could see their motions making Pinkie shut in on herself. So she made a silent offer, nodding toward the back of the pack where they wouldn’t block or disturb anyone. She awaited Pinkie’s approving nod before ushering her back the way she came, through the narrow pass of fans. Once they had room to breathe, she let her head rise and said: “Anyway, I suppose I know what it’s like to lash out. You seemed like you were… in a bad place.”
“Well, I’m in a better place now. And I can see from here I’ve been a real patoot.” Her shoulders slacked when Luna giggled at that. Getting a laugh out of her felt nice.
“Hoo,” sighed Luna as she brushed at the corner of her eye, “that’s certainly one way to put it, hehe.” Luna’s wings untightened where they sat across her sides. She hadn’t realized how tensed her feathers had been. “I’ve certainly been there, though.” She cleared her throat, feathers bristling briefly over the topic. “Of course, you already know all about that.”
Pinkie’s head drooped, and not to bob along to the rhythm. Her long magenta locks tumbled over her shoulder, hanging limply just above the floor. An itch picked at her upper foreleg, and she tried to scratch it, while attempting to ask: “How do you, like… deal with it?”
The smile Luna wore had been a nervous one, and that question was enough to shake its foundation. She waited for her to meet her eyes once more, pondering what to say to that. “How, erm. How do you mean?”
“I feel so awful about what I did to you.” Pinkie admitted with a heavy heart. Her voice cracked, though her eyes stayed dry for the time being. Gripping at her chest, she said: “You always seemed so collected, though. H-how do you go about your day with this weight?”
A dry little laugh escaped Luna and she gave Pinkie a most incredulous look. “I’m sorry, did you miss the part where I got upset and threw a book across the room?” She shrugged, holding out a hoof to invite her to ponder. “Or the time I flew off to fight a bloody dragon to avoid seeing my sister too soon?” Making a show of looking around, Luna chuckled and added: “I would love to meet this level headed Luna you’re referring to.”
“Luna, how long are you going to keep beating yourself up over that darn book?” Frustrated, she reached up and gently pushed aside Luna’s hoof where she pantomimed shading her vision to search the distant horizon. Once she had her attention again, she begged her to consider: “What about the Luna that went back to comfort that rude magician girl? Or the Luna who didn’t resort to violence, no matter how mad Gilda made her? Or the Luna that’s really good with kids, or when she mediated between an angry dragon and a desperate mage, or, or…” Pinkie’s antsy tail swished, betraying her nerves. “What about the Luna that asked if I was okay, even after what I’d done?”
Luna opened her mouth to speak, but her teeth clicked back together. No words escaped her. Instead, she simply hummed a thoughtful “Hmm.”
“You’ve stumbled along the way, but you’re a good person. I just wish you could see that yourself.” Pinkie sighed, losing track of Luna’s eyes again. “And I wish I could be like you.”
“Then do it.” Luna’s words came so readily, she surprised even herself. “You’re already taking the first steps. I know all too well how heavily the shame can weigh upon your heart. But it’s a good sign that you feel remorse for regrettable actions; it means you’re past the low point—that you’re no longer the monster you became.”
Pinkie gawked up at her a moment. But she remained unconvinced. She scoffed and complained: “You make it sound so easy.”
“Regret is the easy part. Carrying that weight, saying that you were wrong; those are hard.” Luna wished she had a mirror right then. It almost felt like she might actually find that Luna which Pinkie had seen.
Mouth tight, Pinkie’s nostrils flared as she drew a hard breath. She was right; it wasn’t easy. “I was wrong,” Pinkie mewled, wincing, “it wasn’t my place to decide for you if you were ready to see your sister again. It was disrespectful of you as your own person and… I wish I could take all that back.”
“Well, you can’t exactly do that.” Luna reached up, tucking some loose locks behind her ear. Then, a great weight of hesitation waylaid her movements. In the end, that same hoof fell to Pinkie’s shoulder. “But I appreciate hearing you say that, and the sentiment besides.”
Pinkie clamped her eyes shut. First, she placed her hoof over Luna’s where it rested upon her shoulder. Then she leaned her head upon it and drew a long, steadying breath. “Will things ever go back to the way they were?”
“No.” There came a pause. “Things will always be different. Things are always changing. Maybe it shall be close to what it once was, but maybe it shan’t.” As the words left her, Luna’s own shoulders somehow felt so much lighter. Her world was very different now, but then so was she. And certainly, there were some changes she rather liked; some changes she’d made in her own life which made her feel all the more herself.
A breeze of air left Pinkie’s lungs as she breathed a little easier. “You’re right.” she said. “You’re right.”
None too far off, Luna spied that magenta server out of the corner of her eye, still managing his counter. He’d just finished pouring some punch and seemed to be gauging her and Pinkie’s interactions. After receiving a nod and wink of approval, Luna drew Pinkie the other way, continuing less confidently with: “Ahem, ah, anyway. Listen, I was pretty upset at the time. And, well, I won’t say I’m completely over it as such, but this is a good first step.”
“Yeah.” agreed Pinkie quietly. “I’m sorry I avoided having this conversation with you sooner. I…” Pinkie felt at the wrinkling pleather lapel of her jacket. She hadn’t felt particularly warm in here until now. “I hope you can forgive me someday.”
“With time and effort, it’s certainly possible.” It hurt to say. Deep down, part of Luna wanted to say all was forgiven then and there. She resented what Pinkie had done, but she didn’t hate her for it. She couldn’t hate the mare who’d taught her how to be happy again. All the same, while talking again was nice, she knew she needed more. More than a good apology.
“Mm, maybe I can think of an okay step two?” Pinkie cast her gaze over the noisy scene with a sheepish grin, saying: “You probably came here for the same reason I did, after all.”
“What might that be?” Luna blinked down at her.
“Fun.” she said simply. Turning to go, she added: “I’ll let you get back to your friends so you can dance the night away.”
“Well, that is rather the issue.” She tapped her hooves together. This was almost as embarrassing to say as she’d felt on stage with so many gazers and gawkers alike. “This music has so much energy, a sort of… buzz. I haven’t the foggiest idea how exactly to dance along.”
Pinkie’s head slowly tilted up, her grin growing along the way. Narrowing her gaze from beyond the pompous ridge of her smug little nose, she said: “My, my, how the tables have turned. I seem to recall a certain alicorn mocking me for not knowing how to dance to a genre of music I didn’t prefer.”
“Alright, I suppose I deserve that.” said Luna, bemused. Her eyes rolled with a little chuckle, but softened readily once more. “I don’t guess you’d show me how, though? For old time’s sake?”
“Sure.” gladly agreed Pinkie. She held out one hoof. “I’m always up to help a friend.”
An hour had passed. A couple beads of sweat formed upon Luna’s brow, just as much from nerves as the pressing of her stamina. Try as she might to follow Pinkie’s movements, she simply felt awkward as a newborn fawn on spindly little legs by comparison.
Up on stage, Red and Onyx went quiet, and one drum’s head after the other knew pain anew. It was Cherry’s turn for a solo, and her hair undulated as she rolled along from drum to drum and then back again. Luna had no clue how to move a single part of her body, so stood there, near as dumbstruck as she was awestruck. A few hoots and chants sounded off to encourage the drummer to keep it going.
Baddle-ah bada bah -tu bah -tu kishhhhh!
Glancing back, Luna looked on in a most bizarre mixture of dismay and confusion. Pinkie was proving her assertion of this being more feeling than process. There were no steps. There was no structure. Her face contorted with effort as she moved her body to the rhythm, practically posing on the beat.
Cherry Bomb slammed her kit to close out her solo, and a loud snap punctuated the set. She wrenched the broken drumstick free with her teeth and tossed it to the cheering crowd, before seemingly attempting to drown her exhaustion with her water bottle. As the roar of the crowd settled to a rumble, her two bandmates took after her example and quenched their thirst. A little break was in order.
“Whew.” went Pinkie, following their lead to relax a moment. “So,” she asked, turning to Luna, “how was that? Feel like you’re getting it?”
“The only thing I’m feeling is regret for having two cups of punch one after the other.” abashedly admitted Luna. She peered around, trying to find reprieve.
“Over there, toward the corner.” pointed out Pinkie to help her out. She hesitated a moment, thinking to offer an escort, but thought better of it.
“Ah, thanks. Be right back, dear.” Luna scurried off, hesitating for only a moment’s regret in calling her “dear” again so soon. She scurried away before either of them could comment on it.
Upon entering, she saw a couple fillies in the corner by the sink, interacting in a way that made her blush. Cheeks rosy, she rushed to find a stall so as not to interlope. It wasn’t until she was done and made to wash her hooves that she realized how familiar the gray mare was. “Hope?”
Hope-Heart’s head whirled around, her black bob cut swaying like a churning sea at a storm’s climax. Her red eyes were wide, and only slightly redder than her cheeks. “Oh. Luna. Um, hi.”
In the corner, Ruby had the look of a young mare who would much, much, much rather be literally anywhere else right then and there. Her eyes swiveled back until they could view only ceiling. “Moon above, why?”
Luna’s eyes searched between them, and the pieces readily came together. “Oh,” she said, a churlish little smirk appearing, “oh, heheheh, oh my. I must say, I’m not surprised, but this certainly happened rather faster than I anticipated.”
“Please don’t tell my mom.” blurted Ruby, mortified. She sank to her knees and pleaded with clasped hooves.
Hope’s mood sank all the further. She turned the other way and crossed her hooves. Rolling her eyes, she groaned out: “Ugh, not the ‘don’t tell my parents’ routine again. Happens with every girl I’ve…”
They looked on to see if she felt like finishing that statement. She didn’t. So turning, Luna said: “Please let me wash my hooves of this. I didn’t mean to judge. And I hardly get along with your mother, so why would I tell her your secrets?”
“Heh, I know that feeling.” While Ruby may have intended to lighten the mood somewhat, she instead found herself between a red and blue set of concerned eyes.
“You should really talk to her.” Hope huffed, still a touch aloof in the other direction. “I mean, do you even want to be a knight like her?”
“I’ll admit, I have similar reservations.” Suds gone, Luna dried her hooves. “Today, these have been the highest spirits I’ve seen you in since I met you. It’s also the first time I’ve seen you without the armor.”
“I don’t wear the armor when getting into my bedroll.” complained Ruby.
Narrowing her eyes a touch, Luna solemnly said: “My dear, that’s not really the point. Especially since I try to give either of you some semblance of privacy.” In a far more bitter whisper, she added: “Not as how you invaded mine.”
“What was that?” Ruby’s ear flickered.
Rather than repeat that snide little comment, Luna leaned against the counter rather casually. She pointed at her and said: “What I mean is, you seem happier when you don’t need to wear it.”
“Like, what’s your special talent, anyhow?” asked Hope, leering back over. One could tell she was still a little disappointed things turned around so suddenly.
“Hold on.” bade Luna, shrugging at Hope. “You don’t even know that much about her?” One brow rose on high, a mighty peak of judgement.
“You don’t either, and you’ve known her longer.” pouted Hope, embarrassed. She turned back about to avoid eye contact with a “Hmph.”
“True as that may be, you’ve certainly gotten closer to her.” rebutted Luna. Her tone, though somewhat judgemental, was softened by an air of amusement.
“It’s juice.” interrupted Ruby, dejected. “My special talent is juice.”
Luna dropped it, returning her attention to Ruby. “Juice?” she asked aloud. “What, as in… squeezing fruits?”
Ruby put on a stiff upper lip, turning up her nose as she left the corner. “You’re just being dismissive because you haven’t tried my great recipe for raspberry tea.”
“Aw, c’mon, she didn’t mean it that way.” assured Hope, following her along.
“Y-yes, I’m so sorry if that came out rudely.” added Luna as she chased after them. Catching up didn’t take long, as Ruby hesitated by the door.
“Okay.” she mewled. “I guess I assumed you were because… mom can be pretty dismissive.”
Hope-Heart put her hoof over her shoulder, and when Ruby turned to look, she pulled in close until they were nearly nose to nose. “I for one would love to try your raspberry tea. Plus, juice bars and the like are all the rage these days. You could easily find work in that line, and I bet you’d be a lot happier.”
An idea struck Luna. “I might even know of a place right here in Ponyville that could make great use of your talent.”
The excitement of possibility crept ever so slightly into Ruby’s voice. “Really?” That light in her eyes faded almost immediately though. “Wait, no, I can’t. Mom would be disappointed.”
Teeth grinding, Hope-Heart wore a look of fury like neither of them had yet seen before. Nearly shouting, she asked: “Who cares what she thinks?”
“Hope?” recoiled Ruby, taken aback.
“What about what you want, Ruby?” Hope sighed and stepped back, letting go of her. Collecting herself, she continued. “Sorry about that, but just… you can’t, like, let your parents live their lives through you, especially if it makes you as miserable. And please, I’m not just saying this because I find you attractive, but, like… I’m kinda speaking from experience here, okay?”
“She’s right.” added Luna somberly. “We’re trying to look out for you, as friends.” Placing her hoof over her chest, she admitted: “I too know what it’s like to have a parent overly dictate what you can do with your life. It made me very unhappy then, and it’s clearly making you unhappy now.”
“But…” Ruby trembled ever so slightly. She choked up a tiny bit. “But how can I talk to her when she’s so… ugh!”
“We’ll be here for you.” assured Luna, smiling softly. “Never forget that your friends are here for you.”
Hope sidled up beside her, leaning one hoof on her shoulder. “I’ll help in any way I can too. I don’t know where things are going with us, but I want you to be happy.”
Ruby could hold back no longer. She threw her hooves wide open and embraced the two of them. “Thanks, you two, so much. I-I feel like… I can do it, I can finally become my own mare.”
The door swung open, and the three of them craned their necks to see a young blond filly with piebald patterning. From where she stood, silent a moment, she looked on with a mild mixture of apprehension and bemusement. She made to let go of the door, saying: “Actually, I can hold it.”
Hope was the first to the door. Laughing nervously, she said: “Oh no, heh, we were uh, just leaving. C’mon, girls.”
Luna watched Ruby rush on through and excused herself to the stranger: “Beg your pardon.”
“Oh it’s all good.” She gave her a carefree wave of the hoof. “We’ve all been there, girl.” Luna, she gave special attention to. “Loving that pigment on your lips, by the by. Striking look like that really works for you.”
“Oh,” peeped Luna, skirting on by, “thank you.” To this stranger, she offered a timid smile, which faltered in flattered surprise from the wink she received in kind.
“Any time, gorgeous.” Her smile flashed wickedly in the low light, and like that she was gone.
At this point, Luna was as much flummoxed as she was flustered. Catching up to the others, she announced aloud to no one in particular: “Alright, I don’t get it. I’ve always been moderately confident in my looks, but this is ludicrous.”
“It’s because you’re tall.” Hope replied nonplussed without missing a beat. As Luna fumbled and stumbled for a response, she fished out a couple coins and passed them to Ruby. “Would you mind terribly getting us some punch?”
“Tall?” squawked Luna with arched brows as Ruby happily acquiesced off for drinks. Luna suddenly became extremely aware of her stature above Hope, how she practically looked over her. Reflexively, she lowered her head to level her gaze, adding: “What, pray tell, has my height to do with any of… all this?”
Hope grimaced with a great ponderance pronounced by the creasing of her brow. “I’m not sure why it happens, really. But trust me on this. In this, uh, ‘circle,’ let’s call it, tall girls get a special kind of attention.”
“She’s not wrong.” piped up a familiar voice.
“Ohhhhhh,” nervously mused Hope with a crooked attempt at a face-saving smile, “hey Pinkie. Funny, running into you, isn’t it, Luna?”
“Actually, I managed to bump into her earlier.” Luna tapped her hooves together, apparently finding something terribly interesting to look at in any other direction than facing either of them. “Rather literally.”
Glancing from one to the other, Hope watched them squirm away from eye contact as though it might petrify them where they loosely stood. “So, are you two, like… good now?”
“Well, I…” began Luna.
“Y’see, it…” attempted Pinkie.
“It’s just…”
“And she…”
Luna looked at Pinkie, a look upon her face betraying every knot in her stomach, so intricate and layered, they’d put an experienced sailor’s work to shame. And upon her face, Luna read similar uncertainty. Turning back to Hope, Luna said: “We’re taking it slow right now.”
“Yeah,” Pinkie agreed, “slower than molasses drips off a spoon.”
When Luna snickered at that, smiling down at her, and Pinkie smiled back, Hope-Heart arched a single brow. She didn’t press, though, feeling perhaps she wasn’t in any position to do so. “Well, it’s good you guys are talking again at least.”
“Look at the crowd!” Ruby shouted with glee, rushing in between them with the two cups Hope had requested. She gave one to her and downed the other. Wiping her lip off on her wrist, she said: “I think it’s time to mosh.”
Pinkie moved to grab Luna by the foreleg and take her off to have fun with her, but stopped shy of contact. Pushing that grabby hoof back behind her neck, she timidly asked: “Wanna come mosh with me?”
Gently, Luna pressed back on some locks of her powder blue hair that tumbled past her ear. Her smile was soft, unlike the music that ramped up. “Sure,” she said, abashed, “though you’ll have to show me how.”
“You coming, Hope?” waved Ruby as she made to follow after them.
“Actually, Ruby, could we hang back a moment and, like, ya know, talk for a moment?” Hope’s magic grasp suspended her punch so she could scratch at her shoulder. Things had been going well enough, she supposed, but this needed saying.
Ruby watched as Luna and Pinkie joined the excited crowd, and turned, moving closer to hear what Hope was saying. “Sure, what’s up?”
“You’re really cute, and back there, that was kinda nice, don’t get me wrong.” Her throat suddenly very dry, Hope sipped at her punch.
“But?” asked Ruby. Never had she felt like the brightest pegasus, but she wasn’t oblivious enough to not realize there would be a follow up to that statement; one she aimed to get to right away.
Astonishing even herself, Hope polished off her own cup as well. The nerves were worse than she realized. “Ah, ahem, it’s just that m-maybe we skipped a few steps, ya know.” She tapped her hooves tentatively together, eyes veering off with the slightest hint of shame. “It may have been a while since I was with somepony.”
Ruby had to cover up her mouth, barely able to stifle her snickering. “Oh, is that what that was about?”
Hope lurched forward, soundly giving her forehead a solid thunk, mortified. One eye obscured by that lingering hoof, her other peeked through her bangs. “Look, what I’m trying to say is… if you want, we can try again sometime. A-and take it slow, I mean.”
Red covered gray, and Ruby took that embarrassed hoof of Hope’s in between hers. “Don’t just blame yourself. I kinda fell a little head over heels too fast too. Especially after you complimented my hair.”
“That does tend to work pretty nicely.” The smile Hope-Heart wore was playful, but utterly full of itself. Yet all the same, it faltered into an abashed and sorry state. “You know, I even tried that on Luna when I first met her.”
“Oh my gosh,” sputtered Ruby, incredulous, “no.”
Solemn as she was sullen, Hope nodded meekly. “Afraid it’s true. Sometimes I feel as hopeless as my sister.” Seeing how that amused Ruby, Hope took her hoof back and groaned. “Anyway…”
“You’re right, sorry, back on topic. I guess I agree, that was maybe a bit much back there.” Ruby tapped her hooves together. She hesitated, pondering if she wanted to make this next move. Deciding it wouldn’t be too much for the time, Ruby leaned in and kissed her on the bridge of her nose. She could only reach despite their slight height disparity thanks to that sunken state of her posture, but she took it all the same. “But I’d really like the chance to get to know you.”
“Heh.” stuttered Hope-Heart, her name sake thudding in her chest. Though maybe that was the music ramping up. Beyond Ruby’s more squat statue, Hope could see the crowd finally writhing. “Oh, oh, it’s time for the mosh pit, wanna go?”
“Uh, sure?” Though Ruby was pretty sure she wasn’t going to enjoy thrashing around with strangers very much, she wanted a little more time alone with her, before she’d have go back with her mom and think about confronting her all over again. But Hope stopped short just ahead of her.
“I think something’s wrong.” Hope said, staring onward.
Ruby searched the scene ahead of them, seeing only the thrashing about she expected. Laughing, jeering ponies shoved each other back and forth, whooping with the anxiously high wails of the music. One all too excited blue pegasus hollered something before diving in. Ruby gulped, not really wanting any part of this. “W-what? What is it?”
Author's Note
Sorry, folks. Things have been kinda rough. And that's all I feel like saying on that. But I found some time (willpower, really) for more creative ventures. Lookit this miniature I painted.
Part 7: It's a dark night.
Luna’s head peaked above them all thanks to her height, and her wide eyes gawked all around her at the thrashing, writhing, screaming bodies of the mosh. Try as she might, she couldn’t seem to push in any direction and escape. She was trapped—trapped again, their position flanked, and the crunching of metal armor splitting open in the ensuing press, it sounded so vivid. A desperate horn blew for reinforcements which would never make it in time, and a scent like that of copper and iron seemed to fill the air. She shook in place, knowing full well the poor positioning was entirely her fault, and—
“Luna!” Pinkie prodded her over and over, slowly bringing her back into the here and now. Those eyes, wide as saucers, shook as they affixed onto her. Pinkie could scarcely sound above the crowd, so she merely pointed upward, showing Luna the one way the pit couldn’t keep her from reaching. Moments passed as they struggled to stay together despite the playful pushing and shoving, but finally it seemed to sink in.
Luna spread her wings out wide in a whipping motion, throwing back moshers who merely laughed and hooted back. She leapt into the air. Free. She was free.
On stage, the bodies writhed nearly as much as they did below them. Sweat poured from each member of Lined Lips, their torsos shuddering with strain as they screamed their hearts out in unison, unaware of the dark wings spreading before them.
“Up from! The ashes! She rises! Oh angel, dark angel, we loooove youuuu! Deliver! Us from the! Darkness belowwww-oh-ohhhh! In! To! Liiiight!”
Pinkie Pie sprang into the air with a high vertical leap and laid herself out flat to surf the cheering crowd as the tide subsided. She tumbled over the ledge of its more gently lapping shore and darted over to where Hope and Ruby were holding Luna upright on her trembling legs. “Luna? Are you okay?”
“I think so?” she mewled, leaning upon gray and reddish shoulders, her hooves still shaking. But her mind was not done remembering that dark day. Worse images still came to mind, and her stomach twisted up into a tight knot, just like it did so long ago. A belch came up and she clamped her mouth shut, knowing what was going to follow. She wriggled out from her supports and hurriedly made for the restroom once more.
The three young mares exchanged a quick look of concern and confusion combined before they all turned in unison and gave chase. A little ways off, a young colt watched them rush across the floor. His wings ruffled slightly as he peered down into the cup he’d just gotten. “Hey man, I thought you said tonight was an all ages thing.”
“It is.” said the server pensively. He anxiously stood in place, wondering if he should leave his station and see what the trouble was.
The patron gave the punch a nervous sip to confirm. “Alright, sorry to give you a hard time. I’ve gotta get up early to turn in a paper is all.”
“No worries.” he replied before placing a sign upon his counter which read “Back in 5” and making pace across the floor.
“You sure you don’t want someone to hold your hair back?” asked Hope-Heart, pressed against the closed stall. Her head sprang upright when she saw the door swing open to reveal a nervous magenta coated stallion in a black apron.
“No,” called back Luna weakly, “I’ve got a hair tie. But could you girls hold onto my jacket? I’m feeling rather warm.” Before a response came back, she flung it up where it caught on top of the stall door, hanging in wait.
The server cleared his throat. “So sorry to intrude, ladies. Just wanted to make sure everyone is okay here.”
Luna groaned, recognizing his voice from before. “No, no—I mean yes, I’m quite alright, thank you, sir. Something, er, I must have eaten earlier disagreeing with me, th-that’s all.”
“If you’re sure, miss Luna.” he said, door creaking as he hesitated. Looking to her friends, they silently shooed him away, waving their hooves and mouthing the word.
Luna felt another retch coming on, but gulped, dizzy as she wiped the sweat from her brow. “I really appreciate your concern, sir, but I’ll be… just fine. Momentarily…”
“Hey, just part of the job. But I can see you’re in good hooves, so I’ll leave ya be.” He nodded at her friends and turned to go. “You fillies have a good night.”
Once the door closed behind him, Hope took hold of Luna’s jean jacket and turned to Pinkie. “What happened back there?”
“I don’t know, honest. We got into the mosh, and I could tell something was wrong, and, well, I mean, I-I dunno…” She loped backwards until she hit the corner and sank in place. It seemed just as she was trying to make amends, she let her down again.
“Whoa, whoa, I’m not blaming you, okay? Take a slow, deep breath for me.” Hope tossed the jacket over one shoulder and beckoned Pinkie to rejoin them.
“It’s true,” droned Luna, coughing, “that wasn’t your fault back there.” It was all over for now, so Luna finished up and unlatched the stall.
“Oh dear, you still look really pale.” pointed Ruby. She put her hoof to her round little chin and asked: “You sure you’re okay now?”
She put on a wavering smile for them, cold sweat still forming a couple last beads on her brow. A weak laugh came up, and she explained: “I panicked for a moment at the color, but then I recalled the punch, and the bright pigment on my lips.”
Hope tore several paper towels from the roll on the counter by the sinks, passing them along. “Here, there’s still a little red in the corners.” She paused. “Do you… want to talk about what happened?”
“Hrmm.” pondered Luna, looking at her sorry state in the mirror to clean off the last of the red. She seemed so pale, her face almost blended into her mane. Funny, she thought, a tiny laugh burbling forth, it almost looks like I’m disguising myself again. Her eyes glossed over Hope, veering off to see Pinkie, dejected in the corner. “I rather… would not have participated in the mosh pit, had I known it would be so…” She faltered, gaze trailing back to the sad, weak mare who stared back from the mirror. “Intense.”
Hope watched her move to the sink to clean her hooves and splash cold water over her face. “This is all my fault. I dragged you out to this. I never told you what a mosh was.”
“None of us did.” chimed in Ruby. She gripped at her shoulders, wings ruffling pensively. “I was so caught up with the kind of night I wanted to have, I didn’t think…”
Luna patted her face dry. The color was starting to fill back in, much to her relief. Turning about, she said: “Girls, none of you could have predicted this. Even I thought I was over… well, I simply thought myself more resilient.”
“Over what?” pressed Pinkie. She’d stood from her corner and a curiosity burned within. She wasn’t sure at first why she wanted to know so badly, but figured knowing was key to helping. Yeah. That was it.
Luna leaned back against the counter with a long sigh, her head falling back. She counted the spots of the speckled ceiling insulation a moment. “I was still fairly young the first day my father saw fit to put me to battle. I led the vanguard. Poorly.”
Ruby’s eyes went wide and she covered up her mouth. She was lucky to have never seen pitched combat, but her training, loathed it as she had, made her aware enough of what Luna was getting at. “Oh no.”
“And I suppose, well…” She pushed off from the counter and took the first few steps toward the exit. Luna was tired of being here, stuck in the past.
“I-I don’t understand.” squeaked Pinkie. “You’ve handled crowds before.” She wasn’t sure what she had been hoping to hear, but it surely wasn’t this.
“Crowds are fine.” Luna hesitated at the door. “But I suppose the thrashing and screaming and being stuck in the middle… it brought me back to that day, worse than I thought.” She made to reach out for the door, to be done with this trudge down memory lane. A weight landed upon her, then another, and then a third. She gripped tightly at the hooves hugging around her person. It was warm, so she lingered a moment still. Would that it could have lasted the rest of the night.
The door swung open again. That same blond filly from earlier took one look at the scene before her and let go of the door. Embarrassed mares squeezed through the closing door one after the other and nervously rushed past her. “Hey, don’t worry,” she called after Luna in a lighthearted tone, “we’ve all been there, girl.”
Luna started to laugh, thinking on how very wrong she was as they left her behind. It was so bitterly funny. The snicker rose beyond a giggle, grew to a chuckle, and ended up at a hearty guffaw. When she opened her eyes again, she realized how blurry her vision was. Crying. She was crying. But it was still so funny. And the lights above the stage twinkled like stars piercing the dusk as a far more reserved encore played to the much more peaceful crowd. A far calmer sigh escaped her.
“Are you going to be okay?”
Luna held onto the pink hoof upon her shoulder and breathed easy. “I’m getting better all the time.” She glanced around at her friends. “And don’t anyone go blaming yourselves for this, alright? You couldn’t have known. Even I didn’t.”
“I can take us through the backstage again.” offered Hope. “We can get some air, away from the crowd.”
“I think I’d like that.” nodded Luna, graciously taking her jacket back from her. The final set closed to cheers. Red-Heart flirted with the crowd. Onyx thanked them very politely. Cherry Bomb dragged cases of Lined Lips merchandise forth and shouted for an orderly line off to one side of the stage. It all grew so distant as they disappeared into the darkened hall, past the stagehoof.
Cool autumnal air tugged at manes, coats, and scarves. The stars shone through the blanket of darkness. Luna smiled up at the moon, which had no face to glower down upon them with, not since she got back and became fully herself. She rather preferred the pony she got to be without the armor and the crown and the worshippers. Hopefully, she’d get to stay her.
It didn’t take long for Marble to come through the double doors to find them sitting quietly by the band’s carts. She could tell all was not right, but kept in mind her faux pas in blurting out in front of that griffin. Choosing her words carefully, she began to amble forth. But then a maroon figure shoved by.
“You guys didn’t stick around for the encore?” moped Red-Heart, dejected.
“We wanted to, truly.” said Luna, rising to meet her. “I’m most sorry, Red, the crowd simply got to be too much for me, and I had to step out.” She swept her hoof towards the others as they stood too, adding: “And my friends here were gracious enough to keep me company.”
“Is that what that was about?” Marble had seen Luna flee the crowd, but tried to remain calm at the time to avoid suspicion. She approached the group, more mindful of the rude bassist than she had been of her.
Luna started mouthing the sharp remark she’d been preparing just for Marble, but paused. It was the softest she’d seen those flint eyes of hers. Loathe as she was to admit, she was likely the only mare here who could truly understand what she had gone through back inside. She reflexively unfolded her wings when Ruby curtly stepped in front of her.
“Keep your judgments to yourself on this one, mom.” Ruby spat, feathers bristling.
All sound fell away but for the whipping winds of the fall night. Mother and daughter locked eyes. And off to one side, Red pointed from one, to the other, then back again. “Wait, ‘mom?’ How old are you, kid?” She seemed completely ignorant of the confused or indignant stares she got. Blistering forth anyway, she smacked her hoof against her messy black mop, saying: “Oh duh, this was an all ages thing cause it’s a weeknight.”
“It’s none of your business if she’s old enough for you, Red.” said Hope, glaring at her from over the bridge of her nose. All eyes traded one sister for the other.
Red threw her hooves up and shook her head. “Whoa, hey, whoa, I didn’t even say nothin’ to this one, honest.” Bitter memories surged forth of the day Hope had enough of her antics. “Hey, she’s a looker, but I could tell you liked her, so I wasn’t gonna, I promise.”
“I’m sorry,” interject Marble, looming over her, “what did you just say about my daughter?”
“That she seems very lovely, ma’am.” squeaked Red, her mouth tightening. The speed with which she was able to blurt this response made it seem as though this was hardly the first time she’d had to say that to a parent.
“Gosh darn it, Red.” whined Hope. She backed away, slowly at first, mortified as the scene she’d tried to avoid unfolded before her and just kept going on and on. But she couldn’t let them see if she’d start to cry, so she turned about and dashed down the street.
“Aw, Hope, no.” called Red-Heart. She started after her, hesitating just long enough to throw a large shirt at Luna. “Ah, Luna, the band and I wanted to give you this free shirt as an honorary member, yadda, yadda, it was nice meeting you, bye!” She gave chase, disappearing around the same corner Hope had taken.
Marble started to say something, but stopped when she saw her daughter plunk down on the cobbles and bury her face into her hooves. She moved to be the first one to reach out to her, cutting Luna off. “Sweetie.”
Ruby jerked away from her, hunching down harder to growl out a scream into her hooves. The face which arose from them was a ruddy snarl. “Ugh, you are the worst! Why don’t you go back to Canterlot already and let me live my life?”
Before Marble could say anything to that, she watched Ruby clamber to her hooves and scurry off, taking the opposite corner. She let out a resigned sigh, turning to Luna. “I… hate to ask this of you, my lady. But might I get the library key from you? She’ll… need to be let in.”
Luna wrested them from her jacket pocket and tossed them with a flick of her horn. “I trust you, Marble. Just go easy on her, will you?”
“Of course.” came a reply in a defeated tone, especially for one usually so high and mighty. All the same, she resigned herself to fate and sped away on heavy hooves.
Pinkie and Luna were left there, alone. They gawked at the intersection a moment longer before turning to look at one another. Pinkie spoke up first. “Wow.”
“Yeah?” replied Luna, her brows arched high enough to support a bridge.
“No. That was it. Just wow.” She idly smoothed down some of the loose locks that had curled up throughout the night.
Luna unfurled the shirt to have a look. It was quite nice. Probably a perfect fit to boot. Though, she was undecided on how close she wanted to keep a reminder of the night she’d just had; so she tossed it over one shoulder and said: “I suppose I’d better start for home as well. Putting it off won’t make it any less awkward.”
Pinkie pondered. “Yeah, that tall one said the library?” She scratched at her head, peering up at her. “Those two are staying with you?”
“It certainly wasn’t my decision.” huffed Luna, ambling towards the crossroads. “My sister seems to think I need protection.”
“Protection?” balked Pinkie, shuffling along beside her. “That’s crazy talk. You’re plenty capable of defending yourself.”
Luna paused a second, but put her next hoof forward to keep pace. It was thankful Pinkie hadn’t asked her what it was she might need to defend against. That filly could be plenty savvy when she wanted to. But the trick was she had to want to be. “Thank you, my sentiments exactly. Of course, I know I didn’t seem it back there, but you’re witness to my bravery, aye?”
On they went, idly chatting as they maintained a sleepy pace. Luna always did find Pinkie so easy to talk to. In her she found no pressure to perform the best pony all else might expect of her. She could simply be. It was a quality that made her such a good friend. And being the best of friends, as she had so easily fallen into over summer, it was the perfect foundation for… for…
For all the chirping of crickets and little laughs they shared along the way, Luna hadn’t even realized she was already fast approaching home. She peeked down as Pinkie continued her story, oblivious as she herself had been that this should end so soon. Part of her wished it wouldn’t. But deeper still, she knew it should. So when her stoop moved to pass her by, she stepped up onto it, lingering at her door.
Pinkie continued on a moment longer, before realizing she had left Luna behind. Whirling around, she saw why. She hesitated, several paces away, growing quiet.
“I think it’s time to part ways for the night, Pinkie.” she told her, tall upon the corner of the low wooden steps, as though they were the deck boards of a ship parting from the bay. Dull, warm light from within bathed her from behind, beckoning onward.
Pinkie approached in a hush. “Yeah, it’s getting late. I had a good time.” Her shuffling hoof knocked a loose pebble. “Well. A time.”
“Yeah, I think I’m going to avoid big events for a time.” said Luna, looking off. Her recollection was as unfortunate as it was fond. “Between the Summer Sun, your welcome party for Gilda, the gala, now this…” She chuckled dryly. “Seems I have bad luck with celebration.”
“That’s a shame.” mused Pinkie. She stood a little taller and smiled a little brighter. “As an expert party thrower, I’d love to break your bad streak.”
“My, my,” said Luna, craning slightly for her, “is that so? Well, I suppose this night wasn’t all bad.”
Pinkie tentatively rose onto the first step, her most impatient hoof reaching for the second. “Yeah?”
“It certainly had a lot of what I really did not need in my life right now.” She smiled, meeting her eye-to-eye, blue-to-blue. “But it also had some of what I did need.”
A tiny, insistent voice at the back of Pinkie’s mind urged her on. She gulped, uncertain, so on it pushed again. She let her lower lip hang open, and eyes still met. On the urge pushed. She slowly moved her face closer to Luna’s. The thudding of her heart felt like it was pounding throughout her entire nervous frame.
Luna pulled away, surprised. “Um. What are you doing?”
Pinkie’s eyes widened and she swallowed down her beating heart as quick as she could. “O-oh, I was just, I mean, I thought—”
“Oh, no, I am so sorry if I gave you the wrong idea just now.” Luna covered up her mouth and her ears drooped. “I rather meant that I was glad you were willing to make amends. I… I’m sorry, I just don’t think we’re at a point yet where we should… do that.”
“No,” blurted Pinkie with a huge, nervous smile, “you are totally right, haha, I don’t know what I was thinking, anyway, I’m just gonna go now, okay bye see you later I love you.”
Luna fumbled for words, unable to find any before Pinkie could hurry off. She groaned, giving her forehead a quick smack. Briefly, very briefly, she considered flying after her. But what would she even say? Sorry for seeming like everything was okay now and that we could kiss.
She shook her head and sluggishly pulled around for the door. Inside, the light came from her desk lamp, where she kept it by the window. And as she closed the door and locked it shut, a pale, but sturdy figure timidly rose to peek over, making sure it was her.
“Welcome home.” droned Marble. “I… decided it best I move my bedroll down here for the night. Hope you don’t mind.”
Removing her jacket, Luna hung it over the opposite shoulder to her new shirt. She gently laid them over the desk as she drew closer. “I think that might be a wise call for now.” She glanced over at the stairs. “You’re going to have to talk with her eventually, though.”
“In the morning,” Marble told her, leaning upon the counter, “when she’s calmer.”
Luna watched her trace the knots in the wood grain of her desk. She wondered about how much intervening she ought to do here. After a moment of chewing her lip, she told: “She doesn’t want to be a knight captain like you. You do know this, right?”
Marble’s hoof fell limp upon the surface between them. She finally met her eyes, saying: “That’s just it. She did when she was younger.”
That caught Luna off guard. She couldn’t help but press. “Really now?”
“Listen,” sighed Marble, losing her wandering gaze once more, “I won’t burden my charge with the details. I’m supposed to be here for you, not the other way around.”
“You’re not a burden.” said Luna, patting her hoof. She snickered, adding: “True, you two did rather impose upon me to quarter you for your job. But your emotions are not this loathsome burden. They are what make us whole.”
“I just wish they came easier.” She slid her hoof away from Luna’s touch. She took a moment to close her eyes and draw breath, as though it might be her last. Finally, she looked her in the eye again and said: “When Ruby’s father left us, she cried for days. And when the tears wouldn’t stop, she begged me to make her strong like me. She said she never wanted to shed another tear again. So… I started training her the next day. And now here we are.”
“Oh, Marble.” Luna gently shook her head. She made sure to keep her hooves off as she approached a little closer. “Strength isn’t about the absence of weakness. Sometimes, it’s about knowing who you can be vulnerable with, and facing them anyway.” She turned her new shirt over to look at the Line Lips logo. “Back there, in that crowd, I had a pretty big lapse in strength. But I had friends nearby who cared.”
Marble simply grunted, her jaw stiff.
“Did you… not cry at all for your lost lover?” Luna tried to maintain an easy tone, so as not to press too hard. She wanted Marble to feel free to quit this at any point. “Or, rather, did you simply not cry in front of Ruby?”
Again, she didn’t respond.
“It’s okay to cry.” said Luna, even if she didn’t feel like admitting how often she had. “It’s okay for loved ones to see you cry. I know you probably meant to be strong for her. Firmness can be good at times. But even a weapon, if too rigid, will snap before it bends.” Luna felt at the shirt some more, how the fabric folded in on itself so easily.
“She certainly snapped at me. Though I probably deserved that.” Raising her head up high once more, Marble’s cold flint eyes stared off in the distance at nothing in particular. “I guess it’s ironic. I tried to make her strong like me, and she only felt weaker for it. Would that I had not been so stubborn, I might have seen it sooner.”
“You might not be able to take that back. But you can certainly try to be better going forward.” Luna took up her things and turned to leave her. “Tomorrow is a new day. You’ll get to try again.” She lingered a moment. “Goodnight, Marble.”
“I find your little font of wisdom both infuriating and humbling.” She waited until Luna slowly craned her head about. From the shadows of the stairwell, lit from beneath by the far lamp as she was, she looked every bit the dark angel, glaring down from on high in a cloud of storm. “Tell me, Luna. You speak a great deal on friendship.”
“I suppose I do.”
“What about us, then? Are friends, you and I?”
She let the question linger a moment. It hung heavy on the air as she turned to straighten, to be more upright. Her head deeper in shadow, blue eyes punched through the dark when at last she spoke. “I let flow my ‘infuriating little font of wisdom’ more for Ruby’s sake than yours. I’ll admit that, out of respect.”
For the first time in a long while, Marble let her smile widen. Her teeth flashed in the warm light of the weak yellow bulb. “Probably more than I deserve. Thank you, Luna.”
“Goodnight now, Marble.” At last, she left her, ascending into the dark. The door, thankfully, had not been locked by Ruby in a fit of frustration. No light was on within; only the pale moon guided her steps. The girl in question stirred at the foot of her bed at the sound of the door closing.
Luna waited a moment. When Ruby turned about, her eyes were closed completely shut. She gaped, jaw crooked and slack, confounded at how she could fall right to sleep so quickly, after all that. Another part of her mused with relief that she only had to play the “infuriating font” to one member of the duo tonight. And yet, even as she thought on this, the sight of her own bed stood out to her. How those pink sheets beckoned her on, her limbs growing heavy and sluggish, great creaking winches whining at the manipulation of long-standing, black-iron castle gates. She lied down, promising herself it would be just for a moment. Just a moment to breathe nice and easy and let the events of the night sink off and away. Her breathing became quite relaxed indeed, as she dozed right off.
Pinkie Pie had only made it about halfway home before losing herself down an alleyway. Where she was, exactly, who knew and who cared? There were too many folks on the street and she didn’t want them to see her, not like this. Halfway down, there sat a box. And she sat herself upon it, lurching heavily to rest her head in her hooves. She sighed.
What was I thinking back there? she thought. She needs more time, more space. I need to do more than just dance with her to make up for everything. And I may have just blown it, big time. I’m so stupid.
“Wow,” cooed an all too familiar voice, “you can say that again.” It was so, so very, painfully familiar because it was her voice. And that’s why Pinkie jumped with a start. Breath hissing through gritted teeth, her eyes darted around. The alley was empty, save for her. Her legs went stiff. This wasn’t right. She looked all around again. It had to be some trick.
“Ugh, I’m so fed up with this. Whoever you are… whatever you are, come out and face me, already!” She panted, her breath hot on the cold night air, practically steaming. “S-so much fun, taunting me from your little hiding spot, huh?” Snarling like a wolf, she grabbed the crate she’d rested on and tossed it aside with a shout. It smashed against the cobbles, splinters and a couple rusty nails scattering further down into the dark abyss, where the light of street lamps dared not touch.
“Wow, such a temper, Pinkie. No wonder your friends all keep their distance.” The voice giggled, and the noise of it grated against Pinkie’s very soul. It was her own laugh, she knew it was. She’d heard it so much, usually after hearing the delivery to one of her own jokes. Now the expression, the purity of joy she felt giving it unto others, shook her to her very core. She shuddered, her eyes clamping shut until the laugh faded.
“Wh… what do you know about my friends?” Her knees felt weak. Her head hung lower, limp magenta locks brushing against the dirt and the cobbles.
“Why, they all seem to have abandoned you.” spoke the darkness, growing louder, more oppressive. “How cruel, and all over one little mistake, too.”
Pinkie wasn’t sure what she hated more: that she’d finally cracked, or that this extra voice of hers said aloud things she regretted having actually thought. She tried to push upright, to stand tall against it. “It wasn’t little. And… well, they don’t owe me their time, and, and… Rainbow reached out to me.”
“Ohhhhhh,” cooed her voice, “good old Rainbow, dragging you out because she needed someone to help her avoid going to a concert all alone like a total loser. Wow! What a great pal!”
Her lip quivered. Was the shade of the alley always this dark? Had she somehow gone further in? Was there something there in the dark with her? She gulped. “It isn’t like that.”
“Ha, just like it ‘wasn’t like that’ back there?”
Pinkie’s heart beat faster, faster. She stared long into the abyss as it seemed to grow. Something was there. Distant, very distant, it couldn’t be, but it was, she was sure of it, she saw a pair of blank, white eyes, staring back, ublinking. And yet, she couldn’t turn away from them. And they seemed to know it, too. She heard her own laugh again, like knives on a chalkboard. She closed her eyes up tight, refusing to see. “Don’t. Please.”
“Don’t what, Pinkie? Don’t point out how she led you on like that? How she tugged on your strings and played you like a fool?”
Something made Pinkie look. It forced her to open her eyes. Those other eyes were closer, and smiling now. How she wanted to be anywhere else but here, to turn tail and run. She wasn’t some centuries wizened wizard like the mare she admired, she couldn’t fling magic at the monsters in the dark and put them down. Her legs refused to lift. In fact, they only got weaker. Down on her knees, Pinkie shook her head, and the pale white smile which punched through the inky black all around it was only all the closer still. Sad, sorry essence flowed from the eyes, like ever-flowing fonts of candle wax, yet all the same it smiled on as it loomed closer without moving, closer still, so very painfully happy to see her, to not be alone any longer.
“But don’t worry.” it told her sweetly, still stealing her voice. “We’ll show her. We’ll show them all.”
Closer, and closer, and closer still the eyes and the smile and the tears, all the tears, a millennia of them flowing out onto a sea of white, white which eroded away all the black of the dark, empty, loneliness of it all. And then nothing. She was whole. Alone no longer. Warmth finally emanated from within again. Good. It felt good. And nice, and cozy, and… right. So she smiled.
Author's Note
Two updates in one day, because I originally kept on writing until I'd gotten all the plot points I wanted on the page, and then it was nearly twice as long as the other chapters, yadda yadda.
Writing this did make me ask myself some funny questions, though. "Hey is this getting a little too into some soap opera 'who's smooching whom' melodrama?" "Yes." "Do you want to change course?" "No."
"Hey these fake song lyrics you wrote here are so edgy and cheesy they should be called sharp cheddar. Do you think they're too much?" "Buddy you literally made up a fictional band of misfits, each their own special flavor of outcast, who wear their nonconformity on their sleeves, and their lyricist is the Town Goth with a penchant for poetry. If anything they're not enough."
Part 8: Right under your nose.
Luna stirred. Looking up, she saw Ruby prodding her in the dull predawn. She turned over, starting to say something, but paused, realizing she still had on the plain white dress she’d worn last night. It was wrinkled here and there from a still night of lying across her back in it.
“Sorry to wake you.” Ruby’s tangerine eyes were sullen, seemingly still exhausted. “The library is supposed to open soon. I didn’t want you to sleep through it.”
Heaving over the side, Luna slipped out of the dress and left it on the messed up pink sheets. Lingering in the doorway to the bathroom, she beckoned. “Come, then. Let’s get ready to meet the day.”
Side by side, they stood in the mirror, taking turns splashing their faces with cool, refreshing water. Both were quiet, dragging their brushes across their manes. Wandering eyes glossed across the mirror’s surface, catching the other’s reflection. They couldn’t help but notice it, given their height disparity meant a greater distance for their wandering gazes to find the other. Still, they said nothing.
Decently groomed enough for the day, out they went, across the floorboards for the door down to the books and the outside world besides. Luna reached for the latch, but lingered. Her hoof sank back to the floor. “Ruby?”
She looked to Luna, quiet for a moment, trying to ponder what might come next. “What’s up?”
“I notice you left the armor behind.” said Luna, nodding over to where they’d been keeping their things in the corner.
Ruby followed her gaze. She considered that helmet, its shiny, polished steel. Shaking her head, frizzy curls of pale blond swayed like summer stalks of wheat. “I don’t want to wear that stuff. Not ever again.”
“And that is quite alright.” Turning, she placed a firm hoof onto Ruby’s shoulder. “Listen, I know I’ve made your staying here seem like this big imposition. And I certainly don’t know what your plans going forward are…”
Watching Luna fumble for words made Ruby a little nervous. Especially after learning what she had about her last night. “But?”
“If you, I don’t know,” she said, rolling her hoof in a cycle, “needed someplace to stay for a little while? You know, while you work at getting your hooves firmly back under you. Well. You know where to find me.”
Ruby’s mouth formed words that wouldn’t come. She tried to smile but couldn’t keep it. Her eyes felt moist, so she blinked them shut. She leaned in and clamped her hooves around Luna’s larger frame as best she could manage. “Thanks. That really means a lot to me.”
Luna pat her on the back before pulling her away to level with her. “Don’t thank me just yet. I certainly don’t want to overpromise; the building technically isn’t mine, you see. I’d have to check with the mayor.”
Ruby shook her head and laughed a sweet little laugh. “Still, though.”
“B-but if she can’t do me this favor, I might have a friend who can.”
“Luna, it’s fine.” laughed Ruby, playfully nudging her ribs. “The sentiment still means a lot. And hey, I’ll make sure I let you know ahead of time, instead of showing up the day of, huh?”
“Heheh. I’d certainly appreciate that.” She turned back for the latch and led her on to greet the day that awaited them. Below, they discovered the library absent one Marble Glade. Luna found her bedroll dutifully and tightly rolled to the side behind her main desk.
“Seems like mom locked the door behind her. Wherever she went.” Ruby scuffed the floorboards, peering around to be doubly sure she wasn’t hiding someplace else.
Luna tapped the side of her head, seemingly embarrassed. “Oh, right, she still has my keys. Hrm.”
Ruby ambled around to the side of the main desk. There sat a cart. Grabbing the printed chart from it, she looked it over and said: “Well… why don’t I help put some books away while you get ready to open?”
“Ruby, you needn’t do that.” assured Luna as she reached for the return bin.
“It’ll help take my mind off things.” Ruby wheeled the cart around, adamant about having the distraction. Once Luna loaded it down for her, she went on her way through the shelves.
That sorted, Luna got the lights and found she had nothing left to do to prepare the library to open in half an hour. So she found the latest in the line of books her little club had decided upon. The tale of a sad stallion having finally made it in life, only to find his lost love in the hooves of another. Rarity regarded it as a heart-wrenching classic. Luna, however, found she hadn’t a taste for stories fraught with fictitious, forlorn lovers lately. Nevertheless, she forged on, terribly behind if she was ever to finish in time for the week’s end.
Thirty minutes before opening the doors swiftly became five. Ruby’s attempt at busying herself didn’t last as long as she had hoped. She ended up taking the last book from the cart, rather than placing it in its correct space. But she and Luna both lifted their faces from the pages that had kept their attention when the front door audibly unlocked.
In stepped Marble Glade. She looked at her daughter, but moved her gaze over to Luna in a quick second. She cleared her throat as she ambled her heavy frame over to the desk, onto which she placed Luna’s ring of keys, and then a trio of paper cups. “Your keys, Luna. Sorry I borrowed them for longer than either of us intended.”
Closing her book, Luna took them, saying: “It’s quite alright, ser Marble. I knew I could trust you with them.”
“I… also went and got coffee for the three of us.” She slid one cup towards Luna, pondering it as if it might jump to life and undo her intentions by spitting toxins or some such. “I wasn’t aware of how you take yours, but one Marlo insisted you’d taken a liking to it this way. She sends her awfully familiar regards, by the way.”
“Oh, Marley is just an absolute sweetheart once you get to know her.” chimed Luna, graciously accepting her cup.
“That is certainly one way of putting it.” whickered Marble. “I had never even heard of this particular brew. Roasted with fruit pulp?”
“The honey-like tones remind me somewhat of breakfast teas.” offered Luna with a shrug. “Still, thank you.”
Marble took one of the other cups, and ice shook around inside. She craned her head about to where Ruby halfway kept paying attention to the words on the page. Holding the drink aloft, she called over to her: “Ruby? I got your favorite.”
Ruby closed the book and finally placed it into its proper place, making a note to come back for it. She was skeptical that her mom remembered her favorite, so approached sluggishly at best. “Oh. Thanks, mom.”
A knowing look crossed Marble’s face when her daughter was obviously pleasantly surprised she knew her favorite kind of iced coffee, but quickly tried to hide it. And when greater surprise shot up at her smile, she only smiled wider, despite strangely feeling very aware of her age. She looked back at Luna for a moment. “I had a little chat with our lady—er, rather, I spoke with Luna last night. It made me… think on a few things.”
After another thoughtful sip, Ruby looked from one to the other. She swirled her drink around, and the cold ice rattled pensively. “Oh yeah?”
“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to take a walk. So we can talk, just you and I.” Marble felt at her chest, trying to stem the ache of regret built up over the years which finally bubbled up. But, as always, she swallowed it all back down to keep a stoic face.
Tangerine eyes sunk into their pinkish red bowls as Ruby considered the cold drink in her hooves. She mulled it over, carefully, holding the moment in the swirling sweet ichor within. “Mm, okay, I guess.”
Marble breathed the sigh of a mare both exhausted and relieved. She took her own cup and followed her daughter toward the door. Lingering in the frame ringed by the dull first light of morn, she called back to Luna, saying: “We’ll return in a little while. Thank you, Luna. For putting up with us.”
Luna waved them on with a smile as Marble switched the sign around to “Open” for her on her way out. It was right about that time, after all. Not long after they’d gone, a young colt came in to ask about reference material for the next paper he had to write. She led him to the sections that would contain the most relevant information. And so another normal day began for Luna. It was exactly what she wanted.
The door violently swung inward, clattering against the rubber stopper on the far wall, well beyond the usual bend of its poor hinges. A figure blurred over the shelves, sending paperbacks and hardbacks alike to the floor with presiding thuds along the way. When Rainbow set heavily upon her hooves before Luna, she was awkwardly navigating a conversation with a young mare asking about the medicinal books and expecting a foal. “Luna, I need to talk to you!” she blurted. Turning to the mare she halfway recognized, she added “Oh, hey, you, congratulations, by the way.”
Mildly embarrassed, she put the book back onto the shelf where Luna had shown her, scurrying away with: “Uh, thanks for your help, I’ll just pick that up for my sister later on, see you.”
Luna started to call out to her, but she was moving pretty quick. Turning, apprehensive of what was to come, she asked: “What’s the matter, Rainbow?”
“Did you see Pinkie Pie last night after the concert?” she asked, somewhat frantic, pointing her hoof.
“Oh, dear. That.” Luna said, anxiously. She winced, grabbing at her haunch. “I hate to have hurt her feelings like that. I just wasn’t ready to be that close again.”
Rainbow squinted, losing some of her urgency. She shook herself out of it and placed a hoof onto Luna’s free shoulder. “Look, I don’t know what went down between you two, and I don’t need to. I went to check on her this morning, and the Cakes say she never came home last night.”
“Oh no.” Luna’s posture sank in on itself, her frame seemingly no longer strong enough for her own height. Her hoof rubbed at the tensing muscles along the bridge of her nose. “She… walked me home last night, but left in an embarrassed state when I didn’t reciprocate her affections.”
A grimace spread across Dash’s face. “I think I know what you mean, but run it by me in new Ponish just to be sure.”
“She tried to kiss me, Rainbow.” huffed Luna. “Ugh. I should have been clearer about where our boundaries still are last night.”
“And she didn’t say anything at all about where she might be going after that?” Rainbow tried to give her space, but her concern showed through her tapping hoof, impatient for the moment she knew her friend was okay.
“No,” she told her solemnly, “I assumed she was heading home.” She shook her head warily, hoof to her cheek. “More the fool I. I should have gone after her to talk about it like I thought to, I was just so tired from…”
“Hey.” snapped Rainbow, grabbing hold of her. “This isn’t your fault, okay? Like, maybe she went somewhere to be alone and just sulk it out for a little while. Practically what she’s already been doing since the gala.”
“Perhaps you’re right.” assented Luna. She pondered a moment, only to draw a blank. “But then, where do you suppose she would have gone? Where’s more quiet and private than her own room?”
“Aw, I don’t know.” admitted Rainbow, feeling more defeated by the moment.
“Have you tried checking with the other girls? Maybe we should start with them.” Luna tapped at her chin, longing for an easy answer.
“Right, right, good idea.” Rainbow stood and stretched her wings and rolled her shoulders. She’d need to be limber for the day she was about to have. “I’ve got cloud kicking today, so I’ll be flying all over Ponyville. I can easily do both in an hour, no prob.”
Luna took hold of her shoulder. “Rainbow. Don’t push yourself too hard.”
“Hey, I got this, no sweat. Wherever she is, I’ll find her.” She flashed Luna a confident grin. “Why don’t you stay here though, see if she comes around. Who knows?”
“Okay. Thank you, Rainbow.” Luna felt at her chest. Something dark and sharp seemed to clutch round her heart, threatening to squeeze all the tighter. The hairs along the back of her neck stood on end. Something wasn’t right.
Rainbow put her hoof up to Luna’s sinking chin and lifted. “Hey, chin up. I’m sure she’s fine. I’ll go get her.”
Before Luna could elaborate on her growing trepidations, Dash made good on her namesake and was out the door both with a wink and in a wink. Bereft, Luna ambled about her books, trying to take her mind off it. When Marble and Ruby returned, she told them. The conversation was a blur, the all too steady beating of Luna’s heart overriding the words. Marble offered to look about town so she could look after her library.
Her library, and Ruby.
Looking at her as though she’d just entered the conversation, Luna asked: “And Ruby?”
“I’m asking a lot of you. But you’re a better caster than I’ll ever be.” She knelt before Luna, clasping her hoof between hers. “I know I’m being paranoid. But it is still out there. I just got my daughter back, Luna. And you can keep her so much safer than I can.”
“Mom.” whined Ruby, trying in vain to hoist her back onto her hooves. “C’mon, don’t you think you’re being a bit dramatic?”
Rising, her daughter stumbled back a few steps, but managed to keep her balance. She smiled, proud that some of the things she taught would still be practical. She brushed away some of that sweet hair that still reminded her of Ruby’s father, and kissed her on the forehead. “No.” she said softly, but stoically. “I fully intend to account for every unknown. And if this thing is any remnant of Nightmare Moon, then it’s entirely possible this is some cunning ploy to draw defenses away from Luna.”
Luna shifted uncomfortably when Ruby looked up at her. Nodding with great shame and reluctance, she admitted: “Well, that is what I would do. Divide and conquer.”
“So I can count on you? Should worse come to worse?”
How someone of her frame, heavy with muscle and might, could ever seem so frail and vulnerable, Luna could hardly grasp. But then, she knew well what it was like to hold a head high and still be brought so low. So she nodded her assent. “Ruby is my friend. Of course I won’t let anything harm a hair on her head.”
Marble was gone. Luna and Ruby tried to busy themselves with little tasks around the library. When there were no books to place, Luna got out a duster, some rags, and a bottle of cleaner. When there was nothing to clean, they read. But the words passed slowly, slower still than the minutes that felt like hours and the hours that felt like days. Every pony coming in for a book or two was a blur, their features forgotten as soon as they were gone. The sun would begin to set soon, and still no word. Luna couldn’t even remember if they ate anything for lunch. But her stomach ached in different ways.
With the setting sun racing for the horizon, Marble considered turning back. But a thought occurred to her, to at least let proper authority know of the lost pony before nightfall. There was always the risk the town guard might come across the nightmare entity in her stead. But had they not signed up to protect their home from the chance of monsters?
Past the square, around the way, she found the town hall building. Here, she’d be able to alert the authorities. But on the outside of the premises, something gave her pause. A pale blue pegasus, even paler in the face, halfheartedly climbed the steps, panting like a dog in the hot sun. She moved up to her side. “Are you alright, miss?”
“I’m good, I’m good.” huffed Rainbow, the hair of her namesake equal parts matted and frizzy from the day she’d had. “I’ve just been flying all over town today, so I’m a little, whew, tired.”
Marble considered the ache in her old hooves. A similar trek on ground had not been much kinder to her. “Whatever your reasons, miss, you shouldn’t push yourself too hard. Here, I’ll help you up the steps, if you’d like.”
“Heh,” said Dash with a grin, brushing a colorful mess of hair back off her brow, “you sound just like my friend, Luna.”
“Ah, you must be Rainbow Dash.” She had fit the description she’d gotten, but Marble always liked to be certain before engaging. “I’m a… an acquaintance of Luna’s.”
“Small world.” mused Rainbow continuing up the steps. “Don’t suppose you were also searching town so she could look after the library?”
Marble could tell that was meant as a joke. But it stopped being funny when she nodded. She got the front door for Rainbow, saying: “Let’s fill out a missing pony report and then get you home. You looked like you could use the rest.”
Rainbow’s wings fidgeted. Her mouth tightened. “M-maybe just one quick loop around town. There’s gotta be something I missed.”
From what Marble had learned about this one, she should have been able to escape before she could react. That she was able to take hold of her before takeoff was as clear and indication of her exhaustion as anything. “Whoa, now. You won’t help your friend by rushing around until you collapse.”
Squirming in Marble’s hold, Rainbow said: “But filing this report feels like giving up. I can do it myself, I can find her, she’s my friend.”
“Then don’t think of it as giving up.” said Marble, holding her firmly in place. She was a quick one, but Marble was stronger. “Think of it as casting a wider net. You’re only one pony, after all, and there’s strength in numbers, Rainbow. Numbers your friends can provide you.”
She settled down, wondering if she might have struggled on longer had she not been so tired as is. Rainbow wasn’t sure. Instead, she put on a weak smile, saying: “Wow, you really have spent some time around Luna, huh?”
Setting Rainbow down, Marble beckoned her through the door as she opened it once more. “Hers is a sort of wisdom that comes from a mystically long life and plenty of mistakes to learn from.” She followed in after her, adding: “It’s both infuriating and humbling.”
“I know that’s right!” For the first time all day, Rainbow burst into a laugh. With a hoot, she wiped a single tear from the corner of her eye. “Hoo, I needed that. Hey, you’re pretty alright, lady.”
For a moment, she considered puffing up her chest and giving her the full title she enjoyed, of knight captain ser Glade of the royal guard. Instead, she quietly pointed at her chest and said: “Marble.”
They made their way across the foyer to a round desk where sat a blond filly filing at her hoof. The tag upon the desk merely read Belle. She tucked the file away, making sure not to mix it in with any real files that mattered and welcomed them with a smile. “Hi there, ladies. What can I do for you two?”
“I’m afraid we need to fill out a missing pony report.” announced Marble solemnly.
“Oh dear.” she drawled, piebald patterned hoof raising to her mouth. She wheeled her chair to her farthest drawer, quickly retrieving a paper. Sliding back to them, she plucked her pen from its stand. “We don’t have to handle these too often, thank goodness, though it may take me a second to go over it with you.”
Rainbow craned her head to look over the prompts with the secretary. Description, last sighting, next of kin, it was all pretty straightforward. “Okay, I got it. What… what do we do after we fill this out?”
“I’ll get it to the head of our town guard, and personnel will be sent out in search parties. Hopefully these details will provide a good starting point, though.”
“Right, right. Well uh, her name is Pinkie Pie.” Rainbow shuddered. Why was this suddenly becoming harder to say? “Sh-she’s my best pal, and she’s, like, a pastel pink, with magenta hair.” She waited a moment as the pen scratched away, but she nodded for her to keep going. “Her hair is normally really curly, it’s honestly kind of a mess, heh. Oh, but lately, she’s been wearing it straight.”
“Say, does this filly have sky blue eyes?” asked the piebald, tapping her chin. She got a confused nod back, and nearly just as dumbfounded, said: “You would not believe this, but I bumped into her a couple times at a concert last night. Was she still wearing that white jacket last you saw her?”
Marble nudged Rainbow. “Small world, eh?”
“Yeah, and my friend, Luna, she saw her last. She said she was still wearing it when they parted ways.” Rainbow followed along the swoops and swerves as the pen went on, black ink spreading on white paper.
“Okay, good to know. And do you have a rough idea of what time frame on this last instance where somepony saw her?” Belle’s pen hovered, awaiting the next bout of information.
“Uh, lemme see, it had to be after the concert, so like, between ten and eleven? I know she was at the library.” Rainbow sighed, wishing she could narrow that down.
“Luna came in at approximately 10:47 last night, so she had to have spoken with Pinkie about a minute prior.” added Marble, not realizing she’d answered Rainbow’s wish. The confused look she got, however, wondered at how she knew that.
“And lastly, are there any next of kin that need to be kept informed of this?” asked Belle as she finished marking the last details.
Rainbow’s view swiveled back around. Her curiosity about this Marble lady would have to wait. “Well, none of her family, uh, actually live here in Ponyville, see. But she’s been staying with the Cake family in their loft. They’re definitely pretty worried about her. Oh and, her friends. Me, Applejack, Rarity, Fluttershy… and Luna.”
The jotting ceased, and Belle gently set the paper aside. “Thank you for all the info. I know this hasn’t been easy, but the city will do everything in its power to find her.”
“Yeah.” quietly mewled Rainbow, feeling at her shoulder. She felt so deflated, hardly able to stand on her own. Though, perhaps that was from dashing across the skies above every corner and quarter of the town to the other and then back again for good measure.
Marble pat her gently across the back, mindful of her wings when they fidgeted in response. “Why don’t I escort you home so you can rest, Rainbow.”
Dash sluggishly followed her along to leave through the way they’d come in. She bowed her head in thanks when she opened the door for her. “Hey, I really appreciate it, miss Marble. And uh, it’s been nice meeting you.”
“Would that it was under better circumstance.” said Marble. She followed her out the door.
Belle watched them leave and sighed. She’d heard of this Pinkie gal before, even prior to the incident in the summer. Apparently, she was pretty well liked here in Ponyville. Not that she truly knew the extent of this, having only moved here last winter. But for all else she could say, it had definitely been an interesting year.
Taking up the paper, she hurried along. Mayor Mare would doubtless want to know about this. This throng of six friends were of great interest to her, given their involvement in that aforementioned Summer Sun fiasco. And this was quite the strange new development. She walked a little faster, thinking: I’d better catch her before she heads home for the evening
Belle stopped short. The mayor’s office door was closed. But she couldn’t have left already, not without at least telling her. With great trepidation, she approached. Through the door, she could just make out hushed voices. She raised her hoof and knocked, unsure why she suddenly felt a cold sweat coming on. “Mayor Mare?”
A pause hung over the air like the first chill of winter, quiet and cold. Someone inside cleared their throat, and Mare’s voice came through: “A-ah, miss Belle. Could you come back a little later? I’m… in a meeting.”
That didn’t seem right. Belle hesitated though. Was the mayor nervous? “But you didn’t have any meetings planned this late.”
“Ah, right, well, an old friend dropped by, so, you know. Don’t mind us, we’ll be done in a bit and I’ll just be heading home.” Mayor Mare’s voice sounded very slightly strained, as though something tightened around her chest.
Something was amiss. Belle reached out for the latch and quickly pushed in. She saw the mayor in her desk chair as per usual, but she was sweating entire beads, looking at whoever sat across from her. But as she came in, Mare lost eye contact with them, frantically shaking her head for her not to come in.
It was too late. The door hung halfway open. Belle could just see a portion of a figure sitting in the chair across from Mare, her back turned to Belle. Fake leather of pale white crinkled thoughtfully at her undue arrival on the scene. No cue had prompted her, and she wasn’t even standing on the correct mark. This wouldn’t do at all.
Ah, but what’s a little improv?
“Come in, won’t you? Join us.”
She was still obscured by the door. But then Belle realized it was creaking open further. She wasn’t aware of how until she looked down to see her own hoof pushing inward. She hadn’t decided to do this, yet her body felt compelled all the same, like tiny wires tugged ever so gently at her. In she stepped, closing the door behind her, breath quickening as she did so.
Loose locks of magenta draped over the back side of the chair. The jacket crinkled noisily again as she reached up and flipped some of it back over her shoulder. Fading light of golden pale peaked through the office blinds. And when she turned her head to see what she was working with, it glinted off a gilded face. But it was a fake face, with a fake smile, sitting comfortably over a real one, teeth glinting white and sharp, glistening not with intent, but the will to lash out and bite down hard. All she’d need is the right push.
“Do you have a name, miss?” She gestured her on and she moved as directed, enunciating with gusto and feeling. Oh yes. She had the looks of a potential leading lady.
“Rena Belle,” she said, “but my friends just call me Belle.” There was something so commanding when she spoke. Belle felt the shiver run down her spine when she turned to face her. Those eyes were cold as ice, piercing a veil of shadow which seemed to rest just under the smiling mask that taunted her so. Under the left eye sat a sparkling blue stone in the shape of a tear.
“Pff, there’s a name that rings a bell, eh?” she said in a blithe, mocking tone. She reached out to take her chin and get a nice look at the features of her face. “Well, Belle. I was just having a little chat with the mayor here about our plans for Nightmare Night. Perhaps you’d be interested in helping out.”
Belle smiled very nervously. Something told her she couldn’t really say no.
Author's Note
Hit some real "I do not control the hyperfocus" hours working on the last few updates.
Long hours had it been since the sun had gone and Luna followed after it. Weak moonlight kept her company as she swam around in her own mind. Every position under those pink bed sheets felt stiff and unforgiving, so she tossed this way and turned that way. The minutes felt like hours.
It’s true that Pinkie had gone some time without keeping in touch with others before, but not like this. Glancing at her window, Luna half hoped she’d see her out there, smiling away on the branch like before. Though, perhaps that might be a more welcome sight once the sun was up again, given the circumstances she found herself under.
Again. She was dealing with the nightmare she’d created again. Perhaps the folk of Ponyville had been all too quick to give her this second chance, and nestle her into their community how they had. The mistakes of her past still haunted her, try as she might to grasp at a new life and hold onto it so gently. And just when she started to like the mare she saw looking back at her in the mirror, too.
Mayhaps she ought resign herself to fate; wear the crown anew and decree the ushering of the next royal Equestrian era. One of such power as she could do much from a throne. But, well, no. What help would she really be upon a throne? She could hardly have met her new friends from some high chair in the mountains, nor face down the nightmare which had stolen her likeness.
That wasn’t right, though, was it? Hardly had the nightmare stolen a thing from her. She had given and received everything readily, willfully. Such was the great hunger within a different her from a different time. Hunger that thrones and crowns had only exacerbated. Useful as those things might well be, Luna still found no desire to ever be near one again.
Luna sat upright with a jolt. She thought back to what she’d said earlier, about the nightmare likely thinking how she did. A hushed voice escaped her: “Divide and conquer.”
What if Pinkie hadn’t simply wandered off to sulk and gotten lost. What if the dreaded shadow had found her? What if she was trapped right this second, being used as bait and leverage?
In Luna’s heart of hearts, she was still somewhat upset over what happened at the gala. But all the same, she cared for Pinkie dearly. If their fate was not to be each other’s beloved, she hoped to still share in many more laughs, like a duo of jesters true. She had to find her. She had to save her.
Whispered incantations filled the room and a dull blue glow followed after them. Ruby stirred in the weak iridescence, but scarcely noticed as Luna disappeared. On she slept, none the wiser.
Drearily, Sunset hoisted her head up. It weighed a ton. Peering down, she saw she’d dozed off at her desk again. Off in the corner, she saw Twilight having done the wise thing and pulled out the cots; doubtless she’d have slightly less of a crick in her neck come morning.
Something had roused her, though, hadn’t it? That’s right, some noise… a magical discharge? Alertness came through stronger as her heart rate picked up. Memories graced her mind’s eye of the shadow and those burning white eyes.
Sunset tried to keep her short, nervous breaths quiet as she crept through the normally sealed off entrance to the secret section of the archives. Her eyes darted this way and that, and her quivering lips mouthed the beginnings of a defensive spell. Silent words became a whisper when a small orb of witch-light appeared from behind the precipice of a tall shelf. The words faded when she saw Luna follow after it.
Luna’s magic grasp held several books before her, her eyes furiously scanning page after page, trying to hook onto the right words and reel forth the information she needed. She was so focused in this endeavor, pausing only to pull another from a high shelf, she didn’t notice the bright goldenrod alicorn pace right up to her in the dark.
“Luna?” Sunset hopped back to give her space as half a dozen books tumbled to the ground and Luna whirled around in a brief panic.
“Oh,” she wheezed, hoof over her heart, “it’s you. Moon above, but you startled me.”
Sunset couldn’t help but smirk once the excitement passed. “I guess you were right, then. Jumpy alicorns are pretty funny.”
“Hm?” It took her a moment to parse her meaning. “Oh, right. Fair enough. At any rate, what are you doing here?”
Sunset scoffed, agape at her. “I could ask you the same thing, girl. You just blipped right in here unannounced. I almost thought that thing had returned for me.”
Luna’s head sank somewhat. She looked over the books she’d dropped. One had a dented spine now because of her. Sighing, she said: “No, you’re right. This was rash of me. But I had new concerns regarding… my shadow, and felt desperate to see to them.”
Sunset felt at her frayed locks of red hair. Her mistakes crawled across her shoulders like so many bugs, and she instinctively scratched at them. “Twi… I’ve been working really hard to make this right, with Twilight’s help. We’re making decent progress, too. We almost have a way to track it, just…”
Reaching out, Luna laid a hoof upon her shoulder. “If there’s anything I can do to help at all, please.”
Sunset met her desperate gaze, mouth widening into a frown. “I don’t know. You have your life, and I’m the one who messed this up. I need to make this right.”
Nearly trembling, Luna sat before her, grabbing at both of Sunset’s shoulders now. She drew a long breath and her eyes began to water. “It’s my monster, Sunset, and I think it might have Pinkie, alright?”
Sunset’s mouth tightened. She knew this battle of pride and the need to fix one’s mistakes was not one she was like to win. And while Pinkie might not have been her favorite mare in the world, she hardly wanted her to suffer what she’d gone through, or worse. She sat down too, placing her hooves over Luna’s. “We think dream walker magic could help, but even Twilight is having a hard time wrapping her head around these old spells.”
Ponderance overtook Luna. She scrunched her face, thinking back to her forgotten specialty. Tapping her chin thoughtfully, she said: “That doesn’t surprise me, really. Twilight is a very analytical sort; she latches onto the numbers behind things. Dream walking requires a mind well steeped in abstractions, and—”
“Wow,” dryly mused Sunset, “great advice so far, but why don’t you come back here and just show us?”
Celestia, giddy in her sundress, idly trotted over the rolling hills where the grass swayed like gentle ocean waves. Cresting one such hill, she basked in the winds which whipped at the tails of her black and white skirts. Her hair of warm, sunrise pink billowed out behind her and she closed her eyes, drinking in the sun with her wings outstretched. What a beautiful day.
She turned to peer over her shoulder and called out: “Come on. This way.”
Luna came up the hill behind her, wearing a similar black and white sundress. Her powder blue locks were tucked under a sun hat of bound and woven straw, which she kept on with a pressing hoof in the face of the winds that greeted her. “Lovely as the view is, don’t you think it’s much too windy up here?” In the crook of her forelimb, she presented the large basket she was carrying, adding: “Why, the picnic is like to blow away on a gust, basket and all.”
“Then forget the luncheon, dear sister.” Celestia threw her hoof across Luna’s shoulder and drew her in side by side. “I’m just so happy to finally get the chance to catch up, just the two of us.”
“Easy for you to say. I was looking forward to this wine you insisted on bringing.” said Luna dourly, grimacing as Celestia guffawed loudly.
Above them, though strangely not really all that high above, another Luna stood upon a cloud next to Sunset Shimmer, watching the scene unfold below. Sunset looked from one Luna to the other and then back again. “Well,” she said, “this is awkward.”
“Perhaps my sister was not the best choice for your first dream walk.” admitted Luna with a sigh. She’d been so wrapped up in her own life, she’d hardly caught up with her. No wonder the dream conjured this up for her. Her ear flickered as music carried over the hills. Where Celestia led the dream of her sister, a stage and curtains sprang up. They reeled back to reveal rows of woodwinds and strings and brass, playing just for them.
Then Twilight Sparkle drifted by, hooves squirming and flailing for something to latch onto. Idly spinning round on wings that didn’t flap, she whined: “Ugh, why can’t I just… my hooves won’t stay pointed down.”
“You’re thinking too hard about how and why the world works the way that it does.” Luna’s wings stayed comfortably folded as her own hooves rose off the cloud. She gently floated out onto the open air where Twilight craned her head about to compensate being upside down. “You have to let go and embrace the logic of the dream world.”
Twilight’s eye caught her hair. It still flowed down towards her hooves, even though those pointed skyward at the moment. “I’m trying, Luna, but there is no logic. That’s my problem.”
Luna spun her horn in a tight circle and Twilight reoriented correctly. She floated herself beside her, one wing unfolding over her shoulder to keep her in place. She gestured over the scene beneath them as the sun suddenly rushed toward the horizon, skies dimming from blue to orange. “There is, it’s simply an abstract logic, influenced by feelings and desires. Celestia wanted music and cozy lighting. So the dream world bent to these whims.”
“Seems she also wants some time with her sister…” Through one eye struggling to stay open, Twilight peeked downward. Her hooves were touching nothing. That wasn’t right. They trembled. As soon as she thought that gravity should be kicking in, she slipped out from under Luna’s wing. Her scream was brief, as she disappeared right away.
“Sun above!” cursed Sunset as she trodded slowly over towards Luna. Her nervous hooves hit the open air as if touching solid stepping stones. She closed her eyes and walked forward. “I-is she okay? What happened?”
Luna sighed, shaking her head. “Have you ever woken up feeling like you were falling for half a moment? She thought that she should fall, so she did. She’s completely fine, just waiting for us back in the waking world.”
“As long as she’s okay.” Sunset bumped against Luna’s haunch, so she opened her eyes. Instinct saw her wings splaying out and her hooves threw around Luna’s back. She stayed stable well enough, desperately transfixed on the idea that an invisible platform kept her standing right where she was.
“You’re doing well, though.” said Luna, somewhat despondent. Peering down, she could see that Twilight’s little yelp carried over the music. Celestia was looking up at them, and the surprise quickly turned to disappointment. At what, Luna couldn’t quite tell from up here. “I suppose we should say hi. Here, walk down with me, okay, slowly. Remember, it doesn’t work how it’s supposed to. It works how you think it might if you simply… did it.”
“To what do I owe the pleasure of hosting you, hmm?” Celestia sat back on the picnic cloth, crossing her hooves as Luna and Sunset slowly descended to join her. She pursed her lips to one side, ear idly flicking, unsure if she ought to be glad or frustrated to see her sister. Or, rather, her real sister.
“Sister, dear,” chimed in the smartly dressed, dreamed up Luna, “who are these tacky interlopers? Why, they’re hardly dressed for the occasion. I would certainly hope they shan’t request a share of the wine.”
Nonplussed, Luna looked to the version of herself conjured up by her sister’s mind. Focus shifting back to Celestia, Luna’s brow rose. “Is this how you still think of me, then?”
“Psh.” spat back the dream Luna with a scoff, lip curling in disgust. She turned up her nose at the newcomers, magic grip swirling the dark red contents of an elegant glass. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood. Otherwise, I’d properly discipline you. One should always mind when speaking to their betters, after all.”
“Wow.” blurted Sunset. She hadn’t meant to, but figured there was no point stopping the thought at this point. Pointing at the dream Luna as she drank the dream wine, she asked the real Luna: “Were you really this nasty back then? Just threatening anyone who looked at you funny?”
Luna sighed, rubbing her temple. “I’m… trying really hard to not be that mare anymore.”
“Hey,” said Sunset, gently nudging her side as she approached, “same here, actually. So, ya know. Don’t beat yourself up so much.”
A cold bead of sweat formed at Celestia’s brow. “N-no, she was never this bad. I hate to say it, but…” Celestia got the sudden feeling of wanting to be alone. So the concert faded, stage and all. The picnic disappeared, cloth, basket, and food. Lastly, the dream of Luna became an apparition, fading on the wind. She sighed, and lied down across the grass on her back. “I think I was feeling bitter.”
“Bitter?” Sunset screwed up her face, looking down as her queen laid herself low.
Shaking her head, Luna dropped down and rolled over beside her. Together, they peered up as the illusion of the skies above faded. Stars arced by in smears of light that pierced the black beyond. “I’m sorry I haven’t kept in touch like we’d planned. I’ve just had so much going on, between Pinkie, and then the whole shadow thing.”
The night sky raced along, and the sun began to crest the far horizon once more. That way lied only grass and hill as far as the eye could see. Celestia hadn’t realized at first just how fake it seemed, the sea of green. By the time she looked up at the sky again, it was nearly noon. A bittersweet laugh bubbled up from her. “Isn’t it sad how often dealing with life gets in the way of living life?”
“Ugh, I know. If not for all this, I would have read so many more books by now.” Luna threw her hooves up and caught the sun before it could sail by. She pulled it down and placed it between them as their own little night light, the sky beyond turning a deep navy like her own coat. “I run a library, and I cannot give informed points on classic literature to the young ponies passing through. That just won’t do.”
Celestia propped herself up onto her side. “That’s the first thing you think about? Becoming better at your job?”
Luna let the sun float above them, offering up a smirk and a shrug for her sister. “A mare ought to take some pride in her work.”
Sunset, meanwhile, was enamored with Luna having plucked the very sun out of the sky. Leaning over the sisters while they chatted away, she reached out, thinking of it as nothing more than a common beachball. A very, very bright beachball. When she held it in her hooves, she was astounded. It didn’t burn the eyes that stared at it, nor the hooves that held it. She closed her eyes anyway, thinking of it not as a beachball, but a baseball. When she opened back up, it shrank between her hooves, feeling heavier, much more dense. It’s a baseball, she thought, but also the sun. The sun appears to go around the world, so…
Luna looked up from her sister for a moment, watching Sunset wind up and toss. The shrunken sun bolted across the way and over the hills, disappearing beyond the horizon. They were left in the dark. A few moments later, they all turned to see it racing back towards them from the opposite direction. Reaching up her hoof without a care in the world, Luna caught it with a pop. It slowly skidded to a stop against her hoof, and she smiled over at Sunset. “Now you’re getting the hang of it.”
“Yeah, I think I’m getting what you said, about things working how you’d expect them if you could just…” She looked between her hooves, eyes darting between them as she struggled to think in concrete terms, every possibility opening up before her. Dreams, reality, and abstractions all blurred through her mind at once. She darted back a few dozen paces and crouched down onto the grass until the two sisters rose above the horizon from the changed perspective. Keeping her gaze low, she ran back towards them. It took much longer this time. And because they stayed so much higher than the horizon, she herself never got any bigger from their perspective. By the time she got back over to them, she was no bigger than a doll.
Offering her hoof to the giggling little thing, Luna hoisted her above where she lied, turning her about. “Not bad at all.” she said, before setting her down on her chest while she stayed right there, laid across the grass. She hadn’t taken a moment to just relax like this for some time, and was keen on staying just like this as long as possible. “If we can just get Twilight this far, we can proceed.”
“You still haven’t told me why I had to host your little test flight.” Turning the other way, Celestia drew her knees in against her chest.
Of course it wouldn’t last. “I’m really sorry, sister. It’s rather that we all know you better, and vice versa, than some random guard. This seemed less invasive to me.”
“You who used to corral the nightmares of total strangers, you did not want to tread unbidden?” Celestia looked at her from over her shoulder, brow raised.
“That was a touch different, considering that was once my duty.” Luna said. She reached out for the tiny sun and tossed it for a few rounds of catch. “And now it is not.”
Sunset Shimmer leaned against Luna’s forelimb as it moved about to catch the sun. “Hang on, I thought Luna’s old job was bringing about pretty night skies.”
Celestia realized she probably loomed over her at the moment, so leaned down to address her apprentice. “Luna was a princess of many talents, dear.”
“I was.” said Luna with another catch. She held the sun between her hooves, considering its blinding radiance. It was an awfully beautiful thing. “But now I’m not.”
“You still could be.” When Celestia got an ugly look in response, she sighed. Looking away, she noticed the listless moon pacing across the starless sky. She reached out and made her own ball of it. She held it tight to her chest. “I wanted more than anything to rule side by side with my sister again.”
“And I didn’t want to go back to that life.” Luna squeezed the sun between her hooves a little harder. The ball of heat and light deformed. “I didn’t want to delegate anymore. I didn’t want to make bad decisions for my country. I didn’t want to lead soldiers to… I didn’t want to fight anymore.”
“Oh, Luna.” Celestia slid closer, still clutching her little moon. “You don’t still blame yourself for that after all this time, do you? It was an ambush, you couldn’t have known. A-and it was the vanguard, they’re supposed to range ahead, and—”
“I could have and I should have.” insisted Luna coldly. Her hooves squeezed so tight, the little sun popped like a balloon. Now, the only light they had came from the little moon her sister was holding over them. She tossed aside the brilliant white remnants of the sun, venomously adding: “And anyway, stop pressuring me back into royalty. Honestly, it’s like dealing with father again.”
“I am nothing like that man!” spat Celestia, her wings flaying out. She felt the cold stone in her hooves shuddering, so she calmed down, smoothing her pink aural hair back and gently folding her wings in. “I have already accepted your decision, whereas he never would have stood for this.”
Luna took up Sunset and placed her onto the moon in Celestia’s hooves. She needed her off her chest so she could cross her own hooves. “You’ve accepted it, but you don’t respect it. Like your snide remark about how unimportant my work is?” Looking the other way, she added: “What’s it going to take for you to respect the new me?”
The feathers across Celestia’s wings rippled tensely, and her ears folded back. “I rather feel I don’t think I know the new Luna. I haven’t had the chance to get to know her.” She let the moon float about her, her hooves timidly tapping together. She chewed on her lip. “And I don’t mean to belittle you, really I don’t. But new Luna or no, I know she’s still one of the only mares as powerful as I. With an origin like mine. And I do so miss having someone I can truly relate to; one who is in every way my equal.”
Luna’s eyes glazed over and one of her ears flickered as her mouth straightened out, nonplussed. She sat upright and locked eyes with her sister. “We are not equals, you and I. Not now, and we never were.”
Sunset picked up her hooves, and the tiny moon began to roll away on the air as she walked across it. “If you two need some time, I can—”
“You were always equal to me.” whined Celestia, tapping her chest. “Regardless of what our parents said, or our followers or citizens thought.”
“But you were always stronger than me. Always so many steps ahead, always more beloved by all.” Luna grimaced, but she would not cry. These wounds were centuries old. Those tears had long since dried by now. Her stint on the moon had partially seen to that.
“I care so little about raw strength.” asserted Celestia, throwing her hoof out beside her as though deflecting Luna’s words. “You did so many things I never could. You mastered dream walking, you contacted entities beyond our world thought to be myth, you handled the night sky like a master artist with a canvas.” She shook her head. “I was so proud of the mare I called my sister.”
“But you’ve no pride in me now?” Luna leaned in and her sister recoiled slightly. “Now that I’m not some pithy reflection of yourself? Now that I’ve sought a new life not under your shadow?”
“Now that’s not fair, Luna. I—”
“A thousand years on the moon to figure out who I am and what I want my life to be, and you speak to me about what’s fair?!” Luna hadn’t meant to get so loud. She felt heat, and turned to find a crescent shape of hot blue flames licking up around her. Rain began to fall, slowly snuffing it out with a hiss, but she couldn’t tell if it was her own doing or Celestia’s. Turning back to face her, she had a guess.
Celestia had stumbled back, and her breathing had grown heavy. In that moment, it almost seemed like those eyes flared with a familiar blue energy, and the pupils narrowed to draconic slits. The memories came flooding back, and it was all she could do to keep it together. She wiped away at her flushed cheek, though wasn’t sure why she bothered. The lone streak of tears ran with the rain, and neither was real anyway. At least, that’s what she told herself as she pushed herself forward. “No,” she mewled, “you’re right. What happened to you isn’t fair, and I shouldn’t lose sight of that.”
When her sister tried to stand back up, Luna took her hoof and set her aright. She could feel the flames thoroughly doused behind her to smoldering ash. Sullen, she said: “I’m sorry I lost my temper with you. You just frustrate me so much when you don’t see me. But, well, all the same, you’re still… the first friend I ever made. And I shouldn’t lose sight of that.”
Celestia withdrew her hoof just long enough to throw it around Luna’s back, leaning her head upon her sister’s shoulder. “And I’m sorry for acting as though things could simply go back to the way they were. I…” She held her sister a little tighter. “I’ve been alone for so long. And I’ve missed the first friend I ever made for even longer.”
The rain let up. Luna pat her on the back a couple times before they parted. “I promise to make some time for you once this latest crisis of mine is sorted, alright?”
“And I promise to cease my comparisons to who you used to be, a-and making you feel lesser for not rejoining me on your throne, and—”
“No, no,” chided Luna with the faint beginnings of a smile, “you cannot apologize for more things than me. I promise to be more mindful of my temper.”
“Oh, but I got mad too.” insisted Celestia, pouting. “Don’t go making yourself out to be worse than me.”
“But you only got upset because I said something so low to you as to compare you to father.” Luna pat her sister on the shoulder in a reassuring fashion. “But you’re right, you’re nothing like him. You’re better.”
“You only snapped at me because I was carelessly making you upset.” Celestia held her sister’s shoulders gently, her wings fidgeting. “The fault truly lies with me.”
“Hardly,” disagreed Luna, “the fault is mine. I’ve been neglecting you, so it only makes sense you’d be upset.”
“Nonsense,” said Celestia a little more firmly, “you’ve been plenty busy, and I shouldn’t have held that against you.”
Luna began another retort, but Sunset cut her off, rolling the little moon back over to rejoin them and say: “As fun as this whole situation is to watch, I think our time might be up?”
The two sisters looked around, only just now noticing a blaring that rang out across the hills with no origin they could find. Celestia realized with a start: “That’s my alarm! It’s almost time to raise the sun.”
“Then it’s time to wake up, sister.” said Luna with one last hug.
Celestia clung a little tighter, not wanting to let go, even as she felt her consciousness slipping away. “I hope… next time we convene, it won’t be because some other event needs us to. I want it to be on our terms.”
“Same here, sister.” said Luna, her hooves slowly meeting as Celestial faded away, back to the waking world that awaited them all.
From her tiny lunar perch, Sunset could see the dreamscape Celestia had imagined slowly fading away as well, into nothingness. Nervously, she called out to Luna: “Now would be a great time to tell me how to escape the crumbling dream world, teach.”
Luna looked up from her empty hooves. Calmly, she told her newfound protege: “Oh, dreams don’t simply cease to exist. They are, after all, an elaborate creation of the subconscious mind. Once a dream ‘ends,’ so to speak, it recedes back into its usually much more subdued state. Watch.”
Sunset found her tiny frame hoisted up and placed into Luna’s shoulder. She tried to follow some pattern of the world and light and seemingly everything that ever was flow in any given direction. She couldn’t see the currents like Luna seemed to, but found herself glad she was still tiny enough in form to be held up by her. If not for Luna’s shoulder, she felt every bit as though she might slip away once the earth itself slipped away like a rug from under, and fall forever into the nothingness below.
“There it is.” Once it was all finally gone, Luna pointed out a distant star of sorts in the oily black. It rose, then floated about in the distance, moving this way and that. “That faint light is the queen’s subconscious mind, compacted back into place behind her conscious one.”
“Whoa.” mused Sunset weakly. She reached up and pulled Luna’s ear. “Okay, so, good first lesson and all. Can we go now? This place is kind of freaking me out.”
Smirking at the little thing, Luna pondered a devious idea. Her lip wavered as she tried to hide it, saying: “Well, Sunset. If you don’t know how to wake yourself up, the quickest and easiest method… is to fall.”
Sunset narrowed her eyes up at Luna. She felt all the smaller and frailer as a wicked smile took over her face. “What are you—whoa!” She felt Luna lurch upwards with a hop and start to descend, but she didn’t stop. Sunset tried to say something biting, to tell her not to dare, but the whipping of nonexistent wind took over and her jaw opened wide with an: “Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!”
Twilight recoiled when Sunset sprang up from the cot with a terrified scream, and she tripped backwards over her own hooves. Looking up from the floor, Luna rose from the other cot with an awfully hearty holler of her own, only she was laughing while she kicked the open air.
“Whew.” she hooted, wiping away a single tear. “I’m so sorry, Sunset, but after all that back there, I really needed a laugh.”
“Sun and moon and stars above!” cursed Sunset, dragging her hooves at the bags under her eyes. “No wonder you like that Pinkie girl. You’re both a real pair of clowns.”
“A pair of jesters even?” she asked, playfully batting her eyelashes.
Twilight rose between them and cleared her throat. Dusting herself off, she gestured towards the corner of the study. “I put some coffee on, if anyone’s interested.”
Luna threw her legs over the edge of the cot. “We’ll need it, I’m afraid. Dream walking tends to lead to restless slumber, unfortunately.”
“Woof, yeah.” agreed Sunset lurching into place. “I’m definitely feeling it. How did you ever deal with this?”
Luna stood and stretched before a long yawn escaped her. “I’m admittedly out of practice. But the effect can be mitigated somewhat once you’re better at it.”
Sunset made her way towards the coffee maker, but stumbled. Slumped against the wall of the hidden study, she groaned out: “Ya know, I might turn into a nightmare too if I was this cranky all the time.”
Luna passed her by as Twilight moved to help her, and went ahead and poured her the first cup. Passing it to her with a wink, she asked: “And you weren’t before?”
“Okay, I deserve that.” she grumbled before blowing across the lip of her mug once before taking it straight. It was hot and bitter. A perfect fit for her, really. She hated it.
Luna similarly downed the scalding brew with nothing to improve it for her palate. She didn’t have time for that. It burned all the way down and left her grimacing. “Hrm.”
“I’m sorry, Luna, did I forget to get any creams or sugars?” Twilight peered over the little space she’d made for it on the desk. Several books had to be shoved to the side.
“No, but I must be hurrying along. I have to open my library shortly.” She began to turn away, but added: “Oh, and let the others know where I’ve been as well, come to think of it.”
“Oh,” said Twilight, clasping her hooves together, “well. Um. Thanks for coming by and helping us.”
Luna felt callous. So she turned and gave them both a smile. “No, I should be thanking you two. I had not realized how hard you both were working to help me with this. I truly appreciate it.” She nodded over at Sunset. “You especially.”
Sunset looked into the billowing steam and the dark liquid beneath it in her mug. She said: “I mean, it’s the least I can do. It is my fault this thing got loose of its haunting grounds.”
“I could just as easily say it’s my fault anything haunted that old castle ruins.” said Luna firmly. “You’re not escaping my gratitude that easily, Sunset Shimmer.”
“Okay, fine.” said Sunset with the beginnings of a smile. “Only happy to help.”
Luna went over and hugged her. She gave one to Twilight as well, who asked: “Will we get another lesson tonight?”
“I think it best we all get some rest tonight before trying again.” she replied as she let go of her. She made some space to cast her spell, nodding to them one last time. “Maybe tomorrow night. See you, girls.”
Pale blue light filled the room, and then Luna was gone.
Author's Note
The alt title for this chapter is obviously "I think it's very funny when alicorns fall over." Spent like a full week staring at a blank doc having no idea where to start, then suddenly cranked out most of the entire first draft in like a day. When my hands arose from the keys, they steamed and smoldered with radiance and heat. In that moment I could have slain a god. A lesser god. But a god nonetheless.
Part 10: Practice makes perfect.
Twilight sat numbly in her room, watching Spike scratch his little quill across the page. It felt like it had been weeks since she’d been able to spend any time with him. And here she was orating notes for him to copy so she could review her own compiled thoughts on dream magic. She understood it in theory. It was putting into practice that still eluded her.
“Okay, page three of direct experience.” he droned as he grabbed another paper, setting the prior one to one side so the ink could dry unscathed. Looking over with tired eyes, he asked: “What happened next, Twi?”
Twilight didn’t answer at first, instead taking a moment to revisit the memory. She opened her mouth to recall how, again, she’d failed to focus upon accepting dreams worked how they shouldn’t. Part of her regretted trying to practice without either Sunset or Luna. But failing something—especially something to do with magic—sat so poorly with her. Slowly losing out on the chance to help one of the heroes she’d looked up to for so long also ate at her, bit by bit. Even if she wasn’t fully sure why.
“Hey, hello, back to earth.” Spike snapped his clawed fingers to get her attention.
“Oh, right.” she said, slowly swiveling her gaze back into focus. “Sorry, buddy.”
Aside in his chair, he leaned upon the desk at which he’d been dictating, and looked her up and down. “I dunno, girl. Maybe princess Luna was right.”
“Not a princess.” she corrected, perhaps more pensive and pointedly than she intended. “We had a whole press event, drew up documents, everything.”
Whatever accidental offense had slipped into her tone seemed to wash over him with an easy shrug. “We’ve talked a loooootta history, Twi. Crowns are an alluring thing.” He pointed, adding: “I still say she’s right, though. You’re seeming pretty out of it. I know you didn’t get a full session outta two now, but they’ve gotta be catching up to you.”
Almost reflexively, Twilight felt at the spots under her eyes. Unable to feel telltale bags forming yet, she breathed a little easier. “I’m fiiiiiiine,” she said with a dismissive wave, “I’m not even a little bit sleepy. I swear.”
Spike’s grassy green crest twitched irritably. Reaching back, he placed the stopper into the inkpot and set his pen aside. Then, he turned back and leaned forward with his hands on his knees. “Then what’s eating you?”
“Nothing,” she tried again, “I said I’m fine.” Even as the words left her, she almost wondered if she wasn’t trying to convince herself just as much as him.
“C’mon.” he squeaked, brows furrowing. “I’ve known you longer than either of those princesses you’ve been obsessing over. You can—”
“Luna isn’t a princess.” she insisted again.
“Whatever she is, she’s like, one of…” His hands wavered in front of him, thinking on it for a moment. “Well, okay, you talk about way more than three things. But she’s been coming up a lot lately is what I’m trying to get at, here.”
Twilight bristled uncomfortably. “Perhaps because she’s my colleague, and peer, and we go to book club together?”
“A book club that was your idea.” He shrugged. “My point here is that we’re friends—I mean sorta—I guess you’re like an older sister maybe?” Shaking his head, he spat out at last: “I’m trying to say you can talk to me, Twi.”
It wasn’t easy to look into those big eyes of his. They were so full of hope and anguish in equal parts. But he was right; he was one of her oldest, best friends. Whether said relationship was like that of siblings, however, remained to be seen. If anything, she’d hatched his egg and taken care of him when he couldn’t do so himself, so perhaps she’d be more like his m—
She let go of the thought, it being very much not the point. “You’re right. You’re my little buddy, and I haven’t been super fair to you lately.”
Spike might have started to say something about it not even being this recent shadow business she was also being rather secretive about. But the words fell away with the ground as her magic enveloped him, levitating him over. Whatever protest he might still be lingering also faded when she hugged him.
“This is nice,” he told her, clinging to the hooves that held him, “but I’d still like to know what’s going on.”
Twilight sighed. “Just a lot of complicated, messy feelings, Spike. It’s hard to explain.”
“Ah.” said Spike sagely. Prying himself from her embrace, he looked up and simply asked: “So which princess is it?”
Twilight’s eyebrows shot up at first, surprised at him. Then, more curtly she furrowed them back down to say: “Would you stop calling Luna a princess?”
“She’ll come back around to royal life.” he said, very assured of it.
Pursing her lips, she sat him back down in his high sitting desk chair. “You say that. I really think she means to leave it behind.”
“Hmph.” he scoffed, amused.
“No, really. The way she talks about that part of her life, it’s always so bitter and remorseful.” Twilight shook her head at the thought. “She really does seem to want a calmer, more normal life. Free of all the responsibility.”
“She tell you about her personal life a lot, does she?” Spike’s grin was churlish, and brow quirked high. He chuckled when her ears folded back and her cheeks went pink. “You didn’t think I’d let go that easy, did you?”
“It’s not like that.” she insisted, turning the other way to pout, hooves crossing. A moment passed them by. “At least. I mean. I don’t think it is.”
Spike gaped at her, eyes narrowing. “Huh?”
Peering back over her shoulder, Twilight’s wing fidgeted. “Okay, look, I was maybe a little smitten with her that night we went to see her together.”
“That was a little obvious.” When she whirled around, he held his hands and chin up high disarmingly. “Hey, it’s not my fault you laid down on her bed next to her making googoo eyes, okay?”
“And it isn’t my fault I received an all too easily misinterpreted cheek kiss.” Twilight realized how high up she was standing at the end of that. Sitting back down, she cleared her throat. “Point being, yes, I may have been a little head over heels at first—all too easily really—but I don’t really know that I feel that way about her. At least, not anymore. I mean.” Quivering in place, her eyes stared off. She sank in her chair. “Ugh. I don’t know how I feel. About anypony.”
Spike reached out to comfort her, but her leg slipped away to drag her hooves down across her eyes.
“These dumb feelings are all so hard to understand. Why can’t love and admiration be like mathematics or science or arcana?” One hoof cut downward upon the other with a click. “Those are concrete. Easy to parse with logic and reason.”
Quietly, Spike scratched under his chubby little chin as she stewed, slumped in her chair. His crest bristled when a thought occurred to him. One finger raised, he suggested: “What if there is a logic to it, just, like, a fuzzy one you’re less good at?”
“Fuzzy.” she repeated, dryly. The idea sat between them for a moment, like a heavy stone in need of moving.
“Think about those antique clocks you like to tinker with as a hobby.” He shrugged casually, adding: “Even if I still don’t get it.”
“Having something moving in front of me—parts or a puzzle, it helps me work through my thoughts.” she said rather solemnly. Almost as if she were ashamed.
“Right, sorry, not the point.” Holding his hands out in front of him, he locked the fingers in the closest approximation he could manage. “Sometimes you have to go through your box of gear thingies because the teeth are different shapes and don’t line up right. And, well…” He pointed. “Maybe that’s you.”
She kept her eyes on him, ponderous but quiet. So he went on.
“Okay, okay, I know I joke around, but I don’t think there’s anything actually wrong with you. Like, maybe you just have different shaped teeth in you that catch and connect… differently.” Going sheepish, he scratched at the back of his neck, crest smoothing back. “I dunno. This is probably dumb and I’m explaining it bad.”
“What? No way.” Twilight shook her head. “I think you put it quite eloquently.” More eased in her demeanor and posture, she drew his chair over and wrapped her wing around him gently. Then, with a smirk, said: “Also it should be: ‘explaining it poorly.’”
In an instant, his chuffed expression gave way to humdrum, drole, nonplussed displeasure. “You really know how to ruin a moment, huh?”
Stifling a snicker, she told him: “Well, if I do, it’s not my fault. It’s my different shaped teeth.”
A knock on the door spoiled the moment further. When given permission to enter, Sunset Shimmer poked her head through. “Hey, Twi, you ready? It’s almost time for book club.”
Twilight knew the part she was leaving out was more dream walking practice with Luna after. Tired eyes gawked at her a moment. Then, she kissed Spike’s forehead, telling him: “We’ll catch up later, okay?”
He gripped at her hoof, keeping her just a little longer. “Better keep that promise, Sparkle.”
Luna’s mind went lost into a fog when she heard it. She blinked, eyes tensing, fraught with apprehension. “I’m sorry?” she asked. “What did you say the holiday was called?”
Fluttershy lowered the book in her hooves to meet Luna’s confused stare, her own eyes going wide, mouth slightly agape. She glanced around at the other participants; it had been a lackluster book club session thus far, but now they failed her all the more. “Um,” she stammered, “well, you see, the uh, the holiday, well it’s called—”
“Wait,” said Luna, halting her, “you needn’t be nervous.” Sorrow crept into her own voice, her hooves slowly coming together. “I apologize if I seem upset. Rather, I’m… taken aback is all.”
“I would have thought someone would have told you about it by now.” chimed in Twilight, mortified, ears folded back. She rested this week’s book across her lap.
Sunset Shimmer blankly stared at nothing in particular. Though, it might have partially been how tired she still felt, even a couple days later. She’d never even finished the book Twilight had given her in hopes she’d come. All she could manage was: “Yeah. Yeesh.”
Luna’s mouth was tight as she glanced around their circle of chairs, all thoughts on the book seemingly left behind. It was just as well, since she hadn’t finished it. Closing her copy, she said: “Look, girls, we’ve all been preoccupied since the start of fall.” She pointed. “Rarity, you’ve got your commissions from the gala. And AJ, you’ve had your hooves full with cider season.”
“I mean, I guess.” said Applejack, twiddling with her hair tie. The grimace she wore still spoke of some small shame she refused to let go of.
“I suppose.” added Rarity, looking the other way when she noticed at last she’d come here still wearing her little pincushion.
Rainbow glanced around at the dour faces, somewhat glad to seemingly be done talking about this week’s book. It just was not her speed at all. Far too morose. “On the bright side,” she said, attempting to alleviate the mood, “it is a pretty fun holiday. Definitely one of my favorites.” Weak smirk growing, she leaned back in her chair, adding: “So, thanks for that, Luna. I think?”
“Don’t be so nonchalant about this, Dashie.” pleaded Fluttershy, concern washing over her.
“I wouldn’t really call myself being nonchalant, Flutters.” Dash nodded her head to one side to fwip the bangs of her namesake from her eyes.
Applejack let a chuckle through. “Why? ‘Cause you don’t know what it means?”
“Oh, it usually refers to one being aloof or sometimes unconcerned.” piped up Twilight in a friendly enough tone. Once the glares Dash and AJ had given each other worked their way over to her, she realized with a start: “Ah, that was rhetorical, wasn’t it?” She smiled nervously. “Sorry.”
“More of a friendly barb, hon.” Sunset reached over and pat her on the shoulder.
“At any rate,” spoke Luna, retaking control, “you said it’s called ‘Nightmare Night?’ And this holiday, it’s… fun?”
“Super fun.” assured Rainbow. Her hooves gestured with excitement. “Everypony dresses up in costumes like monsters, all running around trying to scare the tails off each other.”
“And that’s fun?” Luna shrugged. She didn’t get it. There had been other holidays partially at her expense the modern Equestrian seemed to enjoy. She’d gotten to return just in time to experience one, after all. Perhaps she ought not get so caught up in the part she played, however passive.
Humdrum, Fluttershy slowly shook her head at Luna. “I never found it much fun.”
“I mean, you’ve grown a lot.” offered Dash. She leaned over to playfully nudge her. “Especially over summer. Spending time with Luna rubbed off on ya. Maybe this will finally be the year.”
Fluttershy couldn’t help but waver at the thought. Gripping at her elbow, she said: “I might have thought the same. But I don’t know if I can give it a chance. It’s just… without Pinkie…”
Dash’s liveliness faltered in an instant. “Yeah. It really won’t be the same.”
One by one, the circle of mares grew despondent. Timidly, AJ asked Luna: “Still no word from the guard?” She bristled with thought when Luna slowly shook her head. Her hoof went to stroke her fuzzy chin, but she ended up nervously chewing on it instead. “I just can’t figure it.”
Luna felt a wave of pin-pricks rush up her neck. Relief found her when Rarity interrupted to say: “She would have loved to hear they’re hosting a play in the square for Nightmare Night.”
“A play?” asked Luna.
“Mayor Mare was being really hush-hush about it the other day. Oh, didn’t I mention?” Looking around, Rarity gauged she, in fact, had not yet brought this up as she’d thought. “Well, she came to see about borrowing some of my wares for their costuming budget, you see. I agreed, of course, but well, she wouldn’t give me a single tip for the life of me. Seems to be the work of a mysterious new playwright, but I’m sure it’s plenty fitting for the season in some form or other.”
Luna’s shoulders tensed, like a weight had suddenly dropped upon them. She hadn’t known Pinkie was fond of theater. There were still so many things she wanted to talk to her about. Such as finally learning what a cheerleader is; they’d never gotten the chance to clear that one up for her. Chimes drew her back to the moment, though, and she noted the library’s main clock. It was closing time. She blinked slowly and drew a long breath.
“It would seem our allotted time for book club has come to an end.” announced Luna. She stood up, letting her copy rest on the chair she left behind. Watching the others shuffle to their hooves around her, still solemn, she told them: “I’m… sure some good news is right around the corner, girls.”
“I s’pose you’re right.” Applejack drew their attention, adding: “Why, I bet Pinkie’d want us to keep our spirits high ‘till she got back.”
“Yeah.” reluctantly agreed Rainbow. She nodded. “You’re right, AJ.”
“Maybe she had to return to the Pie family farm.” offered Fluttershy tepidly, hoof tapping her chin.
“Lots of things are possible,” said Rarity, “but nevertheless, let us not lose hope. Not yet.”
Luna felt their moods lift, and thought to try her luck. “I certainly don’t want that. She has a shift tomorrow morning, heheh?”
Stiff chuckles burbled up. Loudest among them was Rainbow, drawing their smiles, if only for a moment. Her own turned wry. “Oh, Luna, she would have loved that one, it was… so awful!”
Covering her mouth, Luna asked: “Are you alright, Rainbow?”
“Yeah, yeah.” She shied away from their concerned faces. Dash didn’t want them to see her like this. “It’s just… it’s hard, I guess, ya know? She’s one of my best friends, and I guess I… I feel like I let her down.”
Every urge spurred Luna to go to her. But Fluttershy was already there, wing over her shoulders, saying: “There, there, Dashie. We’ll all get through this together.”
The others moved to embrace her, but Rainbow slipped beyond their cloying hugs with a stubborn chin held high. “Alright, alright, I’m good.” she told them. Quick as she could, she brushed away at the corner of her eye. “I’m fine.”
Out she went, and Fluttershy hesitated in the dim light of sunset. Before leaving, she turned to the others, saying: “Goodnight, everypony, we love you and we’ll see you around.”
Rarity and Applejack watched them briskly depart and shared a knowing look. “That’s our Rainbow,” sighed AJ with a little shake of her head, “proud as ever.”
“It’s no wonder then you two get along so swimmingly.” teased Rarity, punctuating the thought by gently giving Applejack’s snout a playful poke when she turned to object. “Although, she’s not the only mare wearing a brave face for our sake.”
Luna stiffened when the two of them peeked back at her rather than continue out the door after the others. Their eyes practically gleamed with intent. “What,” feigned Luna, “me?”
“Don’t play ignorant. Ain’t no way a fib’s getting past me.” assured Applejack confidently. Alongside Rarity, the two stood as bulwarks against the fading orange light outside, defiant.
“Really, I can’t imagine what’s going through your head.” added Rarity. “A summer love turned sour, and then she vanishes?” Her hoof went across her forehead. “It’s like something right out of one of my favorite melodramatic romance novels.”
Feeling the princesses at her sides, Luna bristled ever so slightly. “I appreciate the concern, girls. I most certainly do.” She nodded her head to one member of sitting royalty, subtly as she could, then the other. “But might we discuss my personal life another time?”
Harsh, scrutinizing eyes of azure washed over Luna. Then, Rarity relinquished. “I understand completely.” she had to admit, closing her eyes to shake her head. “Just know that your friends are here for you, whenever you need us.”
Applejack lingered, even as her partner turned to go. She stared at Luna a moment longer, seeing the lie, but not the intent. For the moment, she let it go with a sigh. “Alrighty. We’ll be around when you feel ready to talk.”
Hesitancy held Luna in place longer than she liked. But in the end, she did close the door after them, settling the matter for now when the lock clicked into place. Turning, she found another set of eyes fixed upon her in wonderment and judgment both.
“What?” she asked them plainly.
Sunset shifted uncomfortably. “Hrm, maybe it’s not my place to say.”
“We just didn’t know you hadn’t told the others.” added Twilight, perhaps not catching onto the fact that Sunset didn’t want to say it aloud. Just as likely, she didn’t care.
“They have their own lives to worry about.” asserted Luna, leaving the doorway behind. “I don’t want them to have to drop it to fret over my monster.” Pensive, she looked from one unimpressed princess to the other. Powder blue locks tumbled over her shoulder when she shook her head. “Not again.”
Twilight steepled her hooves under her chin. “I do hear what you’re saying. However, they’re not just ordinary, mundane everyday ponies anymore.They’re bound to the Elements of Harmony. Have they gotten any practice at all with their respective elements since the Summer Sun incident?”
Luna’s head bobbed with a start, and her stride across the room stopped short. She realized they hadn’t so much as discussed it once. But that could hardly be fair, expecting them to become guardians of their kingdom simply by virtue of having been at her side when the task fell to her. “Such a burden.” she said bleakly. It was always bound to catch up to her. “Should it truly be forced upon anyone?”
“I suppose it’s not fair the stones chose them for it without asking.” said Sunset. She went over and laid a hoof upon her stiff shoulder. “But they did choose to be there for you before when it happened. Don’t you think they’d want to be there for you again?”
“I just…” Luna huffed, lowering her gaze to meet hers. Each of them seemed tired, their eyes glazed over. Perhaps the two of them weren’t so different. Not that she’d be saying that out loud any time soon. “I loathe being a burden to others. Despise it.”
Sunset shrugged. “Then don’t be. A good relationship involves give and take. So give them back everything you take. One step at a time.”
Behind them, unnoticed, Twilight’s eyes lit up. There was something she felt she finally understood.
Luna, meanwhile, felt her ear flicker. She thought back to what Marble had told her. “When did you get so wise?”
Leaning back, she flashed a confident grin. “I’ve been this wise. I just lost sight of that for a while when you came into my life.”
Confounded, Luna watched her prance off toward the staircase. When Twilight sidled up next to her, an expectant look got no answer beyond an amused, if shy shrug. One princess followed the other, leaving the former princess on the landing alone.
“I suppose we can worry about that over the weekend.” Sunset shimmer nodded up towards her room where extra bedrolls were waiting. “For now, let’s focus on dream walking.”
Another day of rest arrived, capstone to the week. With the skies above Canterlot slowly fading to sky blue, queen Celestia took a moment to break her fast. Autumn winds climbed high up to the balcony she chose. Nothing the evening wear she still had on couldn’t combat, so she tugged the collar tighter as she looked over the streets beyond the castle walls. They were already filling in with ponies going to and fro, ready to seize the day, even if traditionally, it was meant to be taken off.
Petra and Nimbus stood on guard nearby. Albeit, somewhat slack. Their posture was far too relaxed for proper guard etiquette, but Celestia didn’t mind. She knew they were capable. They were also the closest thing she had to friends these days, as unprofessional as that was of her. Either way, she said nothing on the matter while adding a couple lumps of sugar to her morning tea. With the first sip, she drank in the sounds of the city waking up, and the two of them chatting. It was fairly serene.
A crackling pop of energy exploded in the sky nearby. Celestia stood from the end table, trying to find the space where she’d caught, just out of the corner of her eye, some flash of blue. It seemed a familiar shade, but she couldn’t be sure. Tensely, her guards hopped into the open air and began searching for danger.
The danger saw them first, and politely as she could manage, said: “Hello. Sorry to bother you.”
“Luna.” gaped Celestia, shoulders going slack. She fell back into her chair as one guard zipped over to hug her, then the other.
“It’s so good to see ya, girl!” Petra exclaimed.
“How’ve you been?!” shouted Nimbus.
Luna laughed, patting them each on the shoulder as they struggled to stay in flight with how they entangled. She gingerly eased their way over towards the balcony, answering: “Fine, I’m fine. I-it’s nice to see you as well.”
“To what do we owe the pleasure, sister?” Celestia eased back in her chair, blowing steam from her cup before having another sip, awaiting an answer.
Luna’s own mouth went dry, though she wasn’t sure if it was because she felt lingering offense in her tone, or because she envied the heavenly aroma of that tea. Licking her lips, she said: “I know we mentioned chatting more once things calmed down a little more. I hope it’s okay if I’m a touch early to that offer.”
The queen stared, nonplussed. A wind climbed the castle wall, tossing her pastel hair about behind her. She herself remained unmoved, thoughts still quietly dancing across her unyielding face. When her mane settled back, a little smirk grew and she kicked the other chair out from under the table. “But of course, dear sister.”
As she sat down, Luna felt the guard pair gather round. They looked on, excited to have time to hang out with the two of them. It pained her to disappoint them. “May I… speak with her alone for a bit?”
“Mm, yes,” agreed Celestia, turning her oh so warm smile toward her guards, “why don’t you two send for another cup for our surprise guest?”
The pair thought to protest. They did miss Luna, after all. But they acquiesced just the same. Luna and Celestia watched them disappointedly march through the exit back into the corridor, disappearing round the wall. They waited until the hoofsteps were more faded.
“So?” said Celestia, a smile creeping anew across her face. Her shrewd, narrowed eyes said she knew a pony who needed something from her when she saw one. After all, a good monarch is always considering the needs of their people. “What did you need to discuss, sister dear?”
At first, Luna shrank into her seat. She was only a few feat across from her. They hadn’t been this close together since the press conference. Not in the real world, anyway. Clicking her hooves together, she drew a long breath and admitted: “I have a problem I think only you could relate to.”
“Is that right?” Her magic moved a cucumber sandwich off a tray and she took a bite before nodding an offering to Luna. When refused, she nodded, asking: “And what that might be?”
Meeting her eyes grew hard. Luna shifted in her seat. “Look. I apologize for coming to you not out of love, but in need.”
Celestia’s mouth paused, second bite ready, but not following through. Setting the sandwich down, she said: “What? Oh, dear, no. I’m actually quite glad you came to me.”
“Really?” Luna remained unconvinced. “You seem so… stiff.”
Her laugh was deep and full of mirth. “Luna, it’s cold up here. I’m trying not to shiver.”
The laughter was contagious. “I should have thought of that myself. I’ll try to be brief, for both our sakes.”
“Is it to do with what I think it is?” she asked her sister, concern coming back into her expression. “I do hope Twilight and Sunset are of help to you in this.”
“It is.” Luna said quietly, leaning forth. “Oh, but, they are. They are. I think we’re almost ready to try and trace it. It’s just, well…”
Celestia watched her sister’s faltering gaze veer out over the city. She snuck a few bites and another sip, trying to give her room to arrive upon the point herself. When that didn’t happen, she cleared her throat. “If either of the princesses said something to you they shouldn’t have, I could always have a word with th—”
“Oh, no, nothing like that.” spat Luna lurching back toward her, hooves waving away such a thought. “Sorry, this has been rather difficult for me. And I’m afraid I’m a touch exhausted, being so out of practice in dream walking.”
Leaning forward, Celestia pat her hoof. “It’s okay. I, meanwhile, I’m…” She withdrew her hoof. It had been so long since it touched her sister’s. A wavering smile grew. “I’m very happy you had some faith in me left.”
“A good deal of love too.” Luna calmly admitted as her sister choked up. “Despite everything. It’s why I came to you instead of talking this over with the princesses.”
“Right, right.” said Celestia collecting herself with a deep breath. “Catch up and make up later, issues at hoof, et cetera.” She fanned her face a touch and blinked away to stop any tears from forming. Gesturing for her to continue at last, she said: “And this issue is?”
Luna took a long breath herself, and let it go very slowly. “I haven’t told my friends about the shadow. Much less my theory that it’s behind Pinkie’s disappearance.”
The queen blinked at her a moment before taking a thoughtful sip of tea. “So, I won’t tell you what to do here right away. But walk me through why you haven’t.”
Dark blue wings shifted, allowing Luna to lean back and look up headlong into the sky. The stars above were fading fast as morning encroached upon them. “I’ve spent so long thinking of this as my burden to bear. They walked into having to deal with it alongside me once. I… wanted to save them a second encounter.”
When Celestia smiled again, it was bordering on smarmy. “Then you still think like a royal.” She held up her hooves in a disarming manner to stave off the glare she got. Gesturing out over the city, she added: “Seriously. You think those citizens waking up to the day out there know even half of what we do? Sometimes, we tuck away that darkness for their own good. Think of how many less monsters they have to deal with than we did. Now, so many of them are the stuff of legend that fill books. Just like the ones you now keep.”
Tense azure eyes peered over the city. The memories her sister poked at—all of them—they stirred in her mind. She could feel her brows tightening down like the clasps on platemail armor pieces. “As I recall, many of those monsters were themselves equine. Or the creation thereof.”
“True.” said a queen whose coat was shockingly clean and pristine. “Equestria’s enemies have been numerous and various. But we’ve done all we can to protect it, every painful step of the way.” Again, she pointed. “Whether they know the full story or not.”
Something about what her sister was getting at didn’t sit right with her. A lump sat in Luna’s stomach. It could be she was still quite thirsty. “They’re not my subjects, though,” she said, uneasy, “they’re my friends. Some of the best I’ve ever had.”
Celestia shrugged. “Royalty has still kept secrets from friends in the past.” She nodded to the corridor Petra and Nimbus had disappeared into minutes prior. “I love those two girls. They still don’t know everything about me. What I’ve seen, what I’ve done.”
What her sister was saying, it sickened Luna. Partly because she was right. Much as she loved the girls, she’d spared them so many details of her long life. “They’re…” Her eyes wavered. She tried to sit upright again. “They’re also bound to the Elements of Harmony. Don’t you think they should know? Don’t you think they should practice?”
“Did they practice before eradicating Nightmare’s primary form?” Closing her eyes, the queen enjoyed the last couple bites of her sandwich. Daintily, she dabbed a napkin at the corner of her mouth. “Besides, without Pinkie, we won’t have the Elements’ full power regardless.”
Tensed hooves ran over Luna’s troubled head as she slumped in her seat. This didn’t help her decide at all. One eye broke through the part in her frayed locks, piercing gaze upon her sister—her queen as she picked another, clearly still peckish. The sight was unbelievable. She and her were cut from the same cloth; they always would be. And though she no longer lived in the same world as her sister, she’d never be fully free from it, either, so it seemed.
Celestia considered the dark blue shape wringing itself up across from her. Her eyes softened. Setting aside breakfast, she moved her chair closer. Luna didn’t resist when she put her hooves around her. “I’m sorry, dear. I know it’s difficult and unfair, how your past seems to never leave you behind. They are… your friends, though, you’re right. If you feel you can trust them with this…”
She was right again. They were her friends. And right now, only the stars and moon above knew where one of them was, and how she was hurting. “I just want to do whatsoever it shall take to make sure none of them ever need suffer again.” She shivered, gripping at her sister’s foreleg. “On my name and reputation, I swear this.”
Celestia went cold, eyes darting far off and away. She held her little sister just the same, convincing herself it was another breeze, and not an all too familiar fury, icy as the northron ponies’ idea of the underworlds that awaited sinners such as she. They stayed there, just like that, quiet until Petra and Nimbus returned.
Elsewhere, a pink mare in a white jacket shook in her own seat. Her gilded mask wore a smile, beneath which shone another. The shiver down her spine told her somepony was talking about her. And she had a great idea of who. Deep down, she couldn’t wait to see her again.
For now, she pushed herself up and out of her unfolded chair. Striding across the floor, she clicked her hooves together in approval. “Really nice job, everyone. I’m so pleased this is coming together. Let’s not lose sight of the fact that opening night is this week, though.”
Actors pensively shuffled around in the auditorium. She pointed out the griffin, who froze in place, a few feathers faltering, falling faintly astray.
“I especially need a little more from you.” Hopping over, she spread out her wings, jostling her feathers lightly. Then, she drew one of them down in front of her beak, like a cloak pulled against a brisk wind. “Your aggression is perfect for your monster scenes. But I want darker, broodier when you’re with our leading lady. Really show me how much you regret this monstrous form coming between you two.”
“Sure thing, hoss.” said Gilda, trying to stay cool. When the director took a step back and gestured for her, she picked a position out of a scene she liked. She made sure to enunciate loudly, since her back was turned, wings slightly unfolded to seem bigger, claws poised manically as though ready to tear at her own beak. “‘Do you not see, Philomena? Nary can I escape my past. It shall always be there, a haunting specter on the rest of my life forevermore!’”
The director watched her coil inward, shaking with pretend anguish. She nodded. “Good, good. Why don’t we run the final scene once more, but try it with you in full costume? We need to make sure it won’t restrict or overheat you.”
Gilda nodded. She couldn’t remember what made her agree to any of this in the first place, but playing this character was pretty fun. She especially enjoyed over enunciating in that archaic speech pattern. “You got it, boss.”
Loudly as she could, the director smacked her hooves for attention. “Okay, take a break, folks. But be at places and ready to run the final scene in about thirty while we get our star all dressed up.”
She took Gilda along with her, giddy as she went. This was going to be an excellent show. The ending, especially, promised to be a real heart stopper.
Author's Note
You’ve no idea how tempting it is to actually, straight up write the play that’s happening here, a full story within a story. But if I do that, I know I’ll get burned out from everything on my plate and this will go back on hiatus again for too long.
“Nightmare night! What a fright! Give us something sweet to bite!”
Everywhere they went, the children gave the same rehearsed chant. The last leaves of autumnal browns and reds flitted on the breeze and scattered across the cobbles as they excitedly dashed to the next set of row houses, piling in to pester one apartment dweller after another in hopes of getting sweets and treats. Watching them go, Luna felt she could begin to understand the fun behind it.
Foals—along with the very occasional griff-chick—filled the streets, all dressed up as their favorite monsters and villains and heroes, be they of myth or more contemporary tales. No fool she, the odd Nightmare Moon costume stuck out in the crowds to Luna’s weary eye. Thus far, it was the only part that bothered her. A child dressed like a chimera she’d faced in battle once, that was one thing. But as the monster she once was? It was more disturbing than she’d like to admit.
All the same, it was pleasant watching the parents and chaperones playing along. A child would hop down the last few steps of a stoop or porch with a monstrous roar, or heroic call, and they’d jump back, pretending to be in awe. It was a sweet scene every time, despite the subject matter… and the reason this holiday existed. Some small part of Luna thought it might be quite amusing to lose her own disguise and start saying “You’re welcome” as she strutted about town.
None of her friends had it in them this year to go for a full Nightmare Night experience, taking the shadows at night exchanging scares and sweets. But they all agreed they needed one good thing to take their minds off things. So together, they made for the town square. What their expectations for the play were, varied from pony to pony, but they all agreed it would be easier than hoofing it all through town in full costume. Not that those full costumes had as much effort put in as they might under better circumstances.
Hope and Ruby wore tiny black cloaks that barely covered more than their shoulders, and had cheap fang inserts to give just enough of an impression they were supposed to be vampires. Dash had on a blue hoodie with Wonderbolt decals on the sides, along with a pair of flight goggles loosely dangling round her neck. Fluttershy paced along by her side, nervous at the encroaching dark, wearing a seafoam hoodie with floppy bunny ears hanging down by either shoulder.
Applejack was scratching herself with every other step. She’d pulled an old itchy shirt down from her attic and stuffed it with old itchy hay. The painted on stitch marks around her lips pulled with her frown, and she almost lost her hat. She promised herself to never be a scarecrow again. Though she likely looked the best out of the bunch, it was decidedly not worth it.
Applejack had also let Trixie tag along while her brother took Applebloom and her friends trick-or-treating. Trixie was, for once, the only one not in costume. Her little white lie about not wanting to be recognized and steal the thunder out from other costumers convinced none of them.
Even Rarity was nowhere near as dressed as she tended to be for any given event. Her dress was fairly humble, same as her hairstyle. She’d wanted to emulate a noblemare from Luna’s era; before that unfortunate lunar banishment business of course. Luna had to admire her accuracy to the period.
Luna, meanwhile… she wanted as little recognition as possible. Lest anyone request an encore performance of Nightmare Moon, in the true spirit of the holiday. She’d put on her Moonshadow disguise from Summer Sun, along with a simple black hood and blank white mask, just for good measure.
Surprise of surprises, she was recognized, but not in a way she’d ever have expected. A grayish stallion dressed as a lumberjack flagged her down, a simple sheet ghost following along close behind him. “Beggin’ your pardon, there. Don’t want to keep you guys, but we’re not from around here and were just hoping for directions to the square.”
“We’re actually heading there now.” said Luna as he craned his head to look up at her glowering red eyes peeking through the mask that muffled her speech. She nodded to the group. “You’re welcome to follow us.”
“Hey that’s dandy.” he said before squinting up at her much harder. “Ya know—and sorry if this is a weird thing to say—but your voice is mighty familiar, stranger. Have we met before?”
Pausing, Luna considered him. Something about him was vaguely familiar. “Perhaps?”
The ghost stepped forth, pointing at Luna’s leg. “Mason, look at that purple coat. It’s that apple merchant we met on the outskirts at the Summer Sun Celebration.” When the white hem flew up, there was a pinkish mare beneath with dark hair, all smiles. “It’s me, Harley. Fancy running into you again.”
Luna’s illusory red eyes gawked at them through the mask before shutting tight as her head flew back with laughter. “Sorry, sorry, that’s simply quite the coincidence.”
“I’ll say!” hooted Mason, laughing with his wife, who hollered near as loud. Their bouts echoed down the street.
“We never did get your name though, darling.” said Harley, letting the ghost costume fall back down. “If that’d be alright, of course.”
“It’s Luna.” said Luna, and the two of them went quiet. The apparition and timberman looked at each other, then back to her.
“You’re yankin’ my chain.” said Mason, dumbstruck.
“Do be reasonable, darling.” said Harley, nuzzling against him ever so slightly. “She could be named for her.”
“B-but she’s so tall.” he stammered, turning to his wife. “And she was here that day—she and her friends defeated Nightmare Moon.”
Harley looked at the friends, several of whom pleasantly waved. Then back up at Luna, whose eyes flashed from red to blue, then back again with a wink. “Oh.” she said. “Oh dear. I disrespected royalty.”
“You were hardly disrespectful. And I’m not royalty.” Luna scoffed. She stepped aside, sweeping her hoof to her gathered friends. Introductions were shared, hooves were shaken, and the couple gladly accepted her invitation to join them.
Singing danced on the winds and down the streets, long before she and her entourage ever reached the square. The voice drifted above the chatter of the coming, going, and growing crowd, faint and enticing, drawing them closer, closer still. The sun would be gone soon.
When they pushed through the final intersection, they could just make out an opportunistic busker squatting in front of the stage. He was costumed like an undead bard of olden days—Luna’s era, in fact. His costume was inaccurate to the period in a number of ways she thought it best to let go of for now.
His grotesque makeup stretched when he belted out the next verse, sonorous voice howling about being cautious, this being the season of the witch. He sang slow and strummed his guitar fast. It was a feast for the ears. Members of the passing crowd tipped him before moving on to find somewhere among the laid out benches to sit for the coming show.
Luna stared at him through the crowd. Something about his voice touched her. Turning to the group, she said: “I’m going to go toss our bard a coin.” She picked out Rainbow, given she was the most assertive. “Could you find us a large enough empty space so we can all sit together?”
“You got it, girl.” she said and took off.
Before the rest of the group could split and see about concessions or show pamphlets, Luna was given a few more coins from others also appreciating the preshow. By the time she swam through the shifting ponies to get to him, the song was long since done. She found him resting a moment, drinking some water.
Perhaps she might have smiled, but the mask concealed it away. So she simply inclined her head quite deeply and let the small clutch of coins fall into his floppy hat laid out before him.
He almost sputtered his water. His red eyes sparkled and his grin widened. “Thank you kindly, stranger. Any requests for the generous patron of the arts?”
Luna was already in the process of turning to move on, but thought on this. Shrugging, she said: “How about something as moody as I’m feeling these days?”
“Vague,” he chuckled, his voice raspy and wisened, “I like that. Perfect for the season.” He winked at her and off she went.
Behind her, strumming started back up, and he began to sing a solemn tune about patient nights and starry fields. Luna paused her trek, drinking it in, breathing the crisp autumn air, calmly, slowly. For the first time in a while, she felt at peace.
As the sun went down, stage hooves came out of the tents far on the opposite side of the stage, where doubtless more waited alongside the thespians of the evening. The undead bard finished out his set, seeing his turn was nearly over. He poured the coins he’d earned from hat to pouch, pulling it tight, then took a long, dramatic bow, sweeping said hat across the cobbles.
A round of applause gently washed over the crowd, and Trixie made a point of turning toward their group, hooves crossed but voice low, to say: “If I had known warming up the crowd was allowed, I would have stolen the show.” She tapped her chin, watching him take his leave through the main path through the benches. “I wonder if he’d be open to collaborating.”
As he passed them by, he noticed the white mask and stepped up over to Luna on the edge of the bench with a smile. “I do hope my pick was satisfactory to the lady’s request.”
“Absolutely.” Luna told him pleasantly, smiling with her eyes as much as she could so he’d notice through the mask. “You have a lovely singing voice, serrah.”
His hoof went to his chest, humbled, smiling warmly despite the makeup making him look all the more a cold cadaver. “You’re too kind.”
Trixie was leaning across AJ and Rarity’s laps, quietly going: “Psst. Ask him for me.”
“Is that the Trixie the illusionist I spy?” he said, red eyes wandering over.
Sitting up, prim, proper, proud, Trixie said: “The one and only great and powerful.”
“Wonderful to meet you. I caught some of your show on the tail end of summer. Pretty entertaining stuff.” He shook his head even as her eyes lit up. “A shame that griffin saw fit to end it early for you.”
Trixie’s mood sank in heartbeat. “Ah, right. Not my proudest moment.”
“Oh, I’ll bet.” His expression was a mix of amusement and sympathy. It had been a touch funny, even if it was too far for a joke. “So imagine my surprise when none other than that exact griffin passes me by earlier as part of tonight’s production.”
“What?” blurted Rainbow, spinning around in her seat. She quieted down when other patrons eyed them. Leaning into the conversation, she said: “The Gilda I know would never get into something like this.”
The bard pondered her before shrugging. “Perhaps she’s had a change of heart. Performance can be a joyous thing.”
“Can I see that real quick?” Rainbow asked Rarity, pointing to the program she’d been reading. When passed along, she honed in on the page for the main cast. Her eyes locked into place. Sure enough. “‘Gilda of Griffinstone in her debut performance as viscount Elouisa?’ I don’t believe it.”
Flummoxed looks fixed on faces all around. Most confused of all were Mason and Harley, so Fluttershy politely leaned over to quietly bring them up to speed.
“I haven’t seen or heard from her since she stormed off in the summer.” Dash’s face was crinkled with confusion. “Now she’s acting?”
“In a starring role no less.” added Trixie in a most suspicious tone. “Top billing alongside Rena Belle as Philomena. If this is true, it’s quite the turn around.”
“I dare say this evening just became far more interesting.” spoke Ratity trying to steal an early peek at the ensemble past props and backdrops being established.
“Oh, honey, I do concur.” added Harley with a rich little bout of laughter.
“Aw, dear,” chided Mason from beside her, “you are incorrigible.”
Applejack had a mortified look on her face, mumbling: “Oh my gosh, there’s two of ‘em.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Rarity, turning upon her, tone as dry as a bitter white wine.
Luna remained quiet as the chatter, wondering, and bickering happened around her. The gears were turning. This seemed such a huge coincidence, that perhaps…
No. she told herself. It couldn’t be the shadow’s doing. It’s far too preposterous and unproductive. Eyeing the painted backdrop of a decrepit manor far away on a bleak hill, she gulped. But it would be quite cruel.
“Looks like the show is about to start.” spoke the bard as mayor Mare took the stage. “Sorry to stir something up I probably shouldn’t have. Hope everyone here has a good rest of your evening. And happy Nightmare Night.”
Luna watched him walk away, his puffy sleeves and floppy hat disappearing from the soft edges of the lights pointed stageward. Into the dark he went, seemingly in search of the next spot he could play in. She hoped to see him again, to toss another coin and hear another lovely song. Part of her, however, wondered if she might not ever again get to hear his guitar.
“So without further ado,” said Mare up on stage, drawing her back around, “join me in a night of debuts. This is the first complete work of our mysterious new playwright, and the first major roles for many of our actors. Thus I present: ‘The Haunting of Harpy Hills.’”
The opening scene saw a lone spotlight upon Rena as Philomena, narrating a letter she was writing. Behind her was a facade of stacked boards, and stage hooves off to the side used devices to imitate creaking, and flicked little white gobbets of foam at her to imitate splash and spray of the salty brine. She explained that her final, desperate effort to find work saw her riding across the seas to Harpy Hills, a bluff side community rich in history; and hopefully rich in actual riches.
The lights went out, the seaworthy facade lost, and she stood by logs stood upright with thick ropes of hemp connecting them. It was a dock, Luna realized. She had to admit, she appreciated the little details the props created.
The only sailor she’d apparently befriended gave her all the advice he could muster about the old town. Most noteworthy of all, he pointed to the manor in the painted distance, telling her to stay well away. Viscount Elouisa lived there, and every scrap of wealth in the entire province went through her miserly claws. And, he told her, dramatic caution heavy on his words, “she were no mere descendent of the first Harpy Count. She’s one and the same.”
Philomena halfheartedly chuckled aloud. “But how would such a thing even be possible?”
He leaned in real close. “She’s a vampire, o’ course.” Looking around nervously, he added: “But you never heard such a nasty rumor from me, hey?”
She rolled her eyes, stifling another laugh. “Rumor indeed, Pete. You take care. And thanks again for all your help.”
“Aye, you too.” He winked and added: “Take care especially with rumors that haunt old towns like this.”
When the lights went out for another major scene change, Rena and a few other actors spoke to each other aloud over the hustle of the stage hooves. She asked them each for a job, sounding more desperate each time. And every time she asked, the answer was some variation of “no.”
The lights came back on, dimmer now to imply lateness. Philomena wandered down a dim alleyway, counting out her clinking prop coins. “I’ve just enough to eat and sleep for a few more nights. Sun and moon above, though, I need to find work or… I simply don’t know what will become of me.”
The backdrop rolled as she slowly meandered across stage, changing to a cobble street at night. Prop handlers snuck by under the lip of the stage, setting up buckets they quickly placed dry ice into to give her a little fog to get lost in. From stage right, a figure dressed all in black entered, moving briskly. Naturally, the two collided.
Of the two, Philomena was the one bowled over onto her side, but she quickly got up to apologize. “I’m so very sorry, I wasn’t quite watching where I was going.”
“I should say so, my good lady.” She turned to say it, and there was Gilda, dressed like a brooding lord from centuries ago. This seemed after Luna’s time, though, so she couldn’t comment on period accuracy this time.
Her friend group exchanged looks, consternated or confounded, still otherwise surprised it was her. It was almost more surprising how well she was doing. Her mannerisms, her speech, even her accent—she was wholly transformed. Rainbow couldn’t take her eyes off her, or un-gape her jaw.
“I-it’s you. The viscount.” stammered Philomena.
Far more coyly, Elouisa said: “Ah, so my good reputation still precedes me. Well, I suppose there is no harm done.” She dusted off Philomena’s dress. “Let’s see this doesn’t happen again and we can let bygones be bygones. Good evening to you.”
Philomena watched her tip her expensive looking hat and begin to depart. “Wait. Sorry, it’s rather… you wouldn’t happen to need any work done on your estate? Would you?”
Looking back at her, most shrewdly, the viscount said: “Hardly, my good lady. Now, good evening. I’ve affairs to attend to yet.”
“Oh but please, give me a chance.” She practically threw herself in front of the noble griffin.
“Bit of friendly advice, while I’m still amicable. Desperation is most unbecoming.” She threw her beak up in disgust and walked briskly on.
Philomena monologued a tad longer before the scene was over. With no dialogue happening, the group exchanged approval of things so far. Luna herself eased much more. She wasn’t sure what she’d been so worried about.
Worry crept back in as the story unfolded. Oh, the actors were doing well, and the prop and set teams were outdoing themselves with each new scene. But the story was simply too familiar for her liking.
Philomena did start working for Elouisa, after asserting herself more confidently, as per her advice. She began by cleaning the entire manor, top to bottom. This would take days within the fiction. It was established that the viscount usually took care of this herself, but hadn’t as of late, feeling all too sorry for herself to so much as lift a feather duster.
It took about thirty minutes worth of scenes for their bond to grow before Elouisa revealed the rumors were true: she was a vampire. Philomena had had her growing suspicions, but loved having her trust her enough to say so. Only, Elouisa was no victim of circumstance, stricken by a curse she never asked for. She revealed having been a tyrant of a vampire lord, one who claimed the very province of Harpy Hills through ruthless acts.
Philomena told her the past didn’t need to define her, that she was always welcome to change and be better. That’s when the two of them noticed their claws and hooves tenderly meeting. The two broke away, embarrassed, and agreed to meet on her next day of work. They left at opposite ends of the stage.
Mare took the stage again, declaring an intermission and the end of part one. As folks shuffled about to stretch their legs or seek the latrine or see about refreshing their confessions, Luna looked about the crowd. Disguise or no, she wanted to see if someone—or something—recognized her and was itching to see her reaction thus far. No eyes of any kind seemed to be stuck on her for any reason than briefly gawking at the extra tall unicorn, as far as she could tell.
She got a small paper cup of water from the vendors and went off to one side. Removing her mask, she splashed a few drops across her face. Perhaps she was being paranoid. The similarities to her own life could be an extraordinary coincidence. It would be an even bigger one, she realized, that the two primary characters had names similar to Pinkie’s and that of the persona she met her under. One she wore even now…
Luna looked over the dark purple coat, how it faded into the night around her. She was hiding again. It had seemed somewhat reasonable, at first. Now, she wasn’t so sure. So before rejoining the others, she shook off the coat of purple, letting her navy blue feathers slip out from her cloak. Whatever may spot her tonight, let it.
Part two of the story felt like it moved along quicker, despite actually being much longer. This was where the exciting things happened. Hunters of the supernatural arrived in town to interrogate the budding couple as they grew only closer by the day. But as the hunters got closer to the truth, the vampiric viscount became more irritable and despondent. She wanted to be with Philomena, but every day it was a new reminder of the monster she’d been—the blood on her claws and fangs.
Enough came to be enough. The phase of puppy love between them had been sweet, but all too brief. When Philomena thought to chide her again, Elouisa bared her fangs and told her to be gone. It was a neat trick, since none of them had seen Gilda slip the pointed fangs into place.
The next scene saw the townsfolk noticing the torn sleeve on Philomena’s dress and assuming the worst. The hunters gathered them, and the whole cast pretended to march up that hill to confront the monster. No matter how she pleaded with them, how she screamed that Elouisa could change, it fell upon deaf ears.
Philomena managed to sneak through side entrances they didn’t know about while the chanting crowd fretted over breaking down the front gate. Here they were, in Elouisa’s chambers, one last time.
“I thought you knew better than to enter a home without express permission.” The doomed viscount stared daggers at her over her shoulder from where she hunched above her desk. She’d been in the middle of finalizing her last will and testament.
“We don’t have time for etiquette. Those people refuse to leave here until… u-until you’re dead or all of them are.”
Turning back around, wings shifting, Elouisa flatly told her: “Then so be it.”
Philomena shook her head, drawing closer to more pathetically beg of her. “It doesn’t have to be this way. We could run away. Just you and me. Start over somewhere else.”
“And how am I to flee through the midday sun?” She shook her head. “Philomena. You are the cleverest, most earnest and charming lady I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. So surely you can see there is no third option here.”
Philomena bristled, getting angry now. “And what happened to the regret and sorrow you cried out onto my shoulder? You would play the slaughterer once more? You won’t.”
“You’re exactly right.” That’s when Elouisa grabbed an object from her desk, flinging it across the floor between them. It shone and flickered in the dim light before clattering to a stop at Philomena’s hooves.
“Is this a sick joke?” asked Philomena bitterly, presenting the dagger for the audience.
“It’s silvered.” explained Elouisa flatly. “Perfect for cutting a life short, even if it’s supernaturally long.”
Philomena nearly dropped it. She shook her head. “I won’t. No. There has to be another way.”
“I’ll spare them their lives, but those hunters doubtless have silver as well. It’s either going to be them or you. I should rather have it be you.” She put her claws on Philomena’s shaking shoulders.
Again she shook her head. “There has to be another way, there just has to be. We’ll cover you head to tail in thick cloth to cover you up from the sun, and you can outrun them, surely.”
“You know it doesn’t work that way.” Banging sounded off from stage right. Their time was growing short. Locking eyes with her, Elouisa told her: “What did I say before? Desperation is most unbecoming.”
Before Philomena might protest any further, Elouisa dipped her into a kiss, and all went silent. Eyes closed, they stayed like that for what felt like minutes. Then, it happened. The end of the knife stuck through the back of Elouisa’s cloak, drawing a soft gasp rippling from the audience.
Elouisa gasped too, going pale, her eyes shaking. A dry chuckle escaped her. “You have my thanks, Philomena. For reminding me that… there are still things in this world worth ch—” she coughed, spitting up from the pellet of fake blood she’d snuck into her beak, “cherishing.”
Philomena choked up as the grip on her shoulders loosened and Elouisa collapsed to the floor, dagger slipped between her chest and leg so it would stick in place from the right angle. When the hunters burst in on the scene they paused, finding her sobbing over her lost love. A well dressed gray earth mare had been waiting for this moment in the ensemble below the stage. Her bow ran across her cello, humming out a solemn tune, low and heavy with sorrow.
Rainbow found this schmaltzy, and AJ muttered she shouldn’t have expected a happy ending, given the season and subject matter. Fluttershy and Rarity chided them respectively, both sniffling. Ruby leaned on Hope’s shoulder, hiccuping. Mason pat his wife’s shoulder, joking that the good thing about a classic sheet-ghost costume was having a built-in kerchief ready to go.
As the musical number went on, the stage lights dimmed more and more. The scene grew darker, until the only light was being shed by a lit candelabra. One of the hunters slowly went over and blew out the flames in time with the final notes of the sad solo piece.
Applause.
In time, the lights came back on. Philomena was on the dock again, stealing one last, longing, pained glance at the manor on the hill. Turning back to the false churning of the sea, she began to narrate a new letter.
“My time in Harpy Hills has been… enlightening. And though in this year, I have managed to earn enough money to continue on for now, I find I cannot stay here any longer. And I wouldn’t either; not if it was the only place that would have me in the whole wide world. This is…” She wavered before drawing a breath to press on. “This place is haunted. By too many memories, both lovely and terrible. My only remaining hope is that in time, I too can be reminded that some things in life are worth cherishing.”
A horn blew, signaling the arrival of her vessel for home. She lingered, unable to help but look back one last time. Then, her steps were stiff and filled with remorse as she exited the scene. The lights went out one last time. It was over, so there came another round of applause. On it went as the lights came on to reveal the entire cast standing together, poised, ready, and taking a bow. From somewhere in the crowd, bouquets flew onto the stage before the two leads.
Still clapping, Trixie leaned over to tell the group: “Alright, not bad, not bad.”
They began speaking about the parts they liked, the surprisingly great fits to certain roles, the exceptional prop work. It all washed over Luna, her azure eyes darting this way and that. This couldn’t be it. There had to be a trick somewhere in all of it, waiting to be sprung on her, or her friends, or—heavens above forbid it—the fine folk of Ponyville thinking they were being treated to a free show for the holiday. The shadow had to have some sick twist planned, just like with the last holiday she was dragged into, her name smeared across its legend. She knew it—and the mysterious playwright not showing herself proved it. Her eyes stayed narrow and her teeth stayed gritted.
Was it Gilda? Pinkie surely loathed her. She must be here for Luna to watch them do to her what she refused to. What torture had been planned, what grotesqueries ready to capitalize on exactly this holiday so ripe for horror? Her breathing rattled under her mask.
The walk home had been exhausting. Luna barely remembered leaving the square. Nothing had happened. Nothing continued to happen. Rainbow wanted to catch up with Gilda, so she let her. She had figured there were fewer ponies more apt to getting her away from danger, or, barring that, coming and getting her to deal with the supernatural more rapidly. Trixie and Fluttershy going with her further put her at ease.
The group had shed members as they walked back through town, chill growing on the wind. There were no more children running about and chanting for treats any longer. Only the breeze and idle background chatter of a town late at night on a holiday, various parties on various blocks losing their momentum or winding down all together. Luna scarcely recalled when they had bid their farewells to the last of their friends and acquaintances, but found herself unlocking the front door, Ruby yawning in tow.
Inside, Marble quietly awaited their return. Setting aside a book she was occupying her time with, she told there was nothing of note to report while she’d been looking out from upstairs. She offered to put on some tea, and Ruby said she’d get the cups. Luna thanked them, heading upstairs to try and clear her head. What she left out was that it ached; it ached terribly.
The staircase, so simple a path, became a trek for her, the pressure seemingly mounting in her skull with each heavy step. Turning on the light to her bedroom filled her with immediate regret, but she left it, tossing aside the mask and cloak to make for her bathroom. A few splashes of cold water would hopefully dull this foul malaise. In she went, ran the faucet, and doused her face.
When she was drying her face, she heard a click. Like a door closing.
Wrenching her face up from a dampened towel, one eye shot open to break through her bangs matted with sweat. The only light pouring in was from the bedroom, and nothing stood where she could see it past the frame. She took one tentative step forward. Then another. Her mind raced, thinking of spells she might be ready to cast to defend herself. But defend against what? Not knowing meant she could easily choose the wrong spell.
Another step forward.
If she chose the wrong spell, it could have little to no effect on her assailant. Wait, how asinine of her—she was overthinking this, it was obvious what awaited her—she thought about light spells, but which one to use?
Another step.
There were flashes and stunners and magelights and illusory candle flames and—
“Boo!” yelled a figure swinging down from above the door frame.
Luna yelped, a harmless magelight sparking off her horn and bouncing off into her bedroom beyond as she tumbled backwards. Sitting up, she backed against the far wall of her bathroom, looking at the figure swing in place, cackling with laughter at her expense. A gold mask smiled at her, and limp magenta hair brushed the floor. Luna’s heart sank far and away into some dark abyss in her chest. “No,” she mewled, a pathetic creature in the end, “it got you. Oh no, Pinkie.”
“You should see the look on your face.” taunted the thing called Pinkie. She let go of the frame, spinning in the air with ease to land upright. One confident step after another brought her into the dark little room, light fading away behind her fast. Her white jacket crinkled as she moved, and the blue teardrop stone in her mask sparkled in the shadow. “What’s the matter, Luna? What has you soooooo tense?”
Hot, furious breath hissed through Luna’s clenching teeth. “Let her go. Your trouble is with me.”
“And lose getting to see how you’re looking at me now? Fat chance, princess.” She chuckled as Luna fumed harder. One smile flashed through the other. “So? Having a hard time deciding if you want to kill me or kiss me?”
Luna bristled up at that, cheeks flushing.
“Go on.” said “Pinkie,” drawing closer before she could think up a response. She placed a firm hoof upon Luna’s horn, lifting her chin to aim it right for her neck. “Do it.”
Mouth hanging open, Luna stared at her. Again, her words caught in her throat.
“‘It’s either going to be them or you.’” she cooed, cupping Luna’s cheeks. “‘I should rather have it be you.’”
“That was your doing.” Luna’s saddened eyes tightened back with a fury. “What’s your plan—what are you going to do to those innocent people?!” She got no words in response, but those blue eyes smiled more deviously by the second. “Answer me!”
The possessed Pinkie Pie tut-tutted her, practically ashamed. In the blink of an eye, her smiling mask became a crying mask, golden facade wracked with grief and anguish. “Where would the drama be if I told you the twist so easily?”
“Fie, monster!” spat Luna, her blood boiling.
“Ah, ah, ah, princess. Best watch that temper of yours, else your precious jester will never love you again.” Lifting the mask just enough, she freed her snout to kiss Luna on the nose. “Or have you so easily forgotten the oath you swore?”
A single tear formed at the corner of Luna’s eye. She loved that little peck; and she hated herself for that. The feeling of being loved was something she still craved, how the desire ached all round the chamber containing her heart. But when that heart thudded, shaking its housing, she knew she was being selfish. And it was time to change.
“You’re right,” she sighed, “I did swear an oath. There’s just one problem.” She reached up and hugged Pinkie, yanking her masked face against her shoulder. “My oath keeper isn’t technically here right now.”
“Wh—” she began, before very rudely being cut off by a white hot blast of magic. She flew right through the frame, thudding hard against the far wall, and falling onto the pink sheets of Luna’s own bed. It was not altogether too unpleasant a landing, actually. She spun into a far more relaxed, almost enticing position upon it, her mask smiling again. “Weird way to invite me to bed, but okay.”
Luna stepped into the smoldering door frame, moon white flames dancing around her, bowing to the glorious return of their lunar princess of might and power. Energy crackled between her horn and glowering eyes. “How very dare you use her against me. And how dare you threaten my other friends, and their friends besides. Monstrous scum, I shall eradicate your every kind that dares leave the plane of my namesake!”
Nightmare Pinkie clapped her hooves, positively giddy. “There she is! There’s the magic warrior I fell in love with and missed so much!” Rising upon her hooves, she arched her back; the white jacket seemed to tear to shreds of its own accord with bony clicks and sickening snaps. It transformed into newfound limbs, spreading wide into pale, bat-like wings. “You want to play?” she cried out in joyous excitement. “Let’s play!”
Author's Note
Is there anything funnier than not updating my fic in over a year, then suddenly double posting? I don't think so. I don't even know what possessed me, this chapter was a blank page when I woke up this morning. And now here we are. Would that I could tap into this strange power more often.
Also I had to write some action eventually.
Morning came. Dim light flowed in through the kitchen window, pooling on the counters. Steam filtered up through the pale beams of light, putting a heavenly aroma into the air. Butter sizzled in the pan, helping Ponish muffins getting rich and crisp. A spatula reached in, satisfied another pair was done. One, then the other, was added to the stack before the dish towel covered them up again to keep them a little warm until all were ready.
Rainbow Dash ambled into the kitchen with a yawn. Her hair was in need of a good brushing, but that could wait. She shuffled over to the cook, who eyed the next pair she’d placed down almost suspiciously; as though they somehow weren’t toasting right. No apron needed to instruct her, she folded her wing across those shoulders as she came around, and kissed at the side of her face.
“Good morning.” she told her sweetly.
“Mm.” she got back in response, eyes still transfixed on the breakfast in progress.
Rainbow sighed. She turned aside and leaned back against the counter. “Say, uh, thanks for letting me crash here.” She awkwardly scratched her chin, eyes wandering. “I just… couldn’t be alone last night.”
Fluttershy looked up from the pan at last. “Is that why you brought her along?”
“Okay,” winced Dash, “you’re right, I shouldn’t’ve put you out like that. I’m real sorry, Flutters.”
Rubbing at the bridge of her nose, she told Rainbow: “I put up with a lot, you know. I really do. And I do so because you’re somepony very special to me. But that was… it was bordering on unacceptable.”
“So she got a little tipsy at the after party.” stammered Rainbow. “She had nowhere else to stay.”
“Then she can sleep it off at your house next time.” Her teal eyes rolled up to glare up at the ceiling. “Sorry for yelling, I’m just so cross right now.”
Dash tried to not snicker and let on that it was hardly a yell. Not even a shout. Didn’t approach a scream. “No, you’re right to be mad.”
“Darn right I am. The things she said last night were just, just…” Fluttershy shook off the memory, feathers rippling along her wings. “Inappropriate!”
“Woof,” came a voice from the kitchen doorway, “I am just so, so very sorry about that.”
Fluttershy leered over her shoulder at the griffin. Her eyes narrowed, and the kettle whistled. “Good morning, Gilda.”
She’d known Fluttershy back when all three of them went to the same school in Cloudsdale. They all learned to fly together. This young mare was far and away less the trembling, lanky thing she knew back then. The stare she was getting now was rather intimidating, in fact. She could only imagine what horrible things she’d said. Voice still raspy from the prior night, Gilda croaked out: “Look. I’ve clearly used up more hospitality than I deserve, so I’ll just get outta your hair.”
Fluttershy sighed and silenced the whistling kettle. “Not without breakfast.”
Gilda’s lower beak hung open. She looked at Rainbow, who seemed just as confused as she was. “Nah, listen, it’s fine. Really.”
Shaking her head, Fluttershy pulled the last muffins and switched off the stovetop burners. Pouring a couple cups, she nodded to the platter. Next to it was a selection of different jams. “Gilda, just have some breakfast.”
Her claws nervously tip-tapped across the floorboards. “I mean… if you insist?”
“Yeah, you didn’t have to do this for us, Flutters. We’re grown, we coulda taken care of the whole breakfast thing ourselves.” Rainbow watched her grab a basket and walk past Gilda where the griffin still lingered, stunned.
“I made some dragon pearl tea for the two of you. Dash knows where the milk and sugar are if you want some.” She began to turn away. “I have some errands to run.”
“Whoa,” called Rainbow, “what about you?”
“Already ate.”
Before she could keep on, Gilda had to know. “Would ya wait a sec? I think we both know I don’t deserve this, so… what gives?”
Fluttershy stared at her a moment, looking almost offended she’d even asked that. “That may be so, but looking out for each other is just what friends do, alright?” She nodded to Rainbow. “She’s one of my best friends. And you’re one of hers. So have some breakfast already.”
“Wow.” said Gilda weakly. “Thanks. For uh, everything.”
Fluttershy was quiet, eying her up and down for a consternated second. “You’re welcome.” She turned back around, but paused one last time. “It was a lovely performance by the way.”
They watched after her as she left through the front door without another word. When it closed, they looked at each other. Rainbow shrugged, then nodded to the counter and they began moving breakfast to the dining area.
“I almost hate to ask,” groaned Gilda as she grabbed their tea, “but what’d I say this time? Because yeesh. I have never seen her so mad.”
“You really wanna know?” asked Dash, setting the platter out alongside a couple plates.
Gilda reluctantly nodded, placing their cups beside the plates. “Just give it to me straight.”
Rainbow chuckled, and the noise sent a chill down Gilda’s spine. “Poor choice of words, girl.”
“Oh no.” Gilda paused in her tracks, like her entire world was about to come crashing down around her.
Going by with the jams, Rainbow rolled her eyes with a most churlish look. “You may or may not have told us about some of the ladies in town you thought were—oh and these are your words, by the way—‘such exquisite creatures.’ You were even doing your Elouisa voice.”
“Oh no…” Gilda whined again, plunking down on the floor.
“Hoo.” laughed Rainbow, wiping away a single tear from the memory. She pat her shoulder on her way to get the milk and sugar. “But yeah, rich as that was, you kinda put me and Flutters both on that list.”
“Oh nooooo.” Gilda’s eyes shut tight and she leaned back to let out a prolonged groan.
Dash finished setting everything out on the table and pulled out a chair. “Hey come on, champ. Let’s both walk off last night and get some food.”
Gilda’s claws and paws dragged sluggishly along. She sat herself at the table with a horrendous, defeated posture. “And just how are you acting so casual about this?”
“Because my other problem is a bit more dramatic.” said Dash, pulling back the towel covering breakfast. “That, and hey, I mean, ya got taste, Gilds. I respect that.”
Grabbing a few muffins, she rolled her eyes and said: “Uh huh. Sure. Anyway, look, I’m real sorry. I promise I won’t stick my beak in between you and her.”
Unable to decide, Rainbow covered her first muffin with a little of each jam; strawberry, raspberry, blackberry, and grape… berry, all swirled together under her knife. “Eh, stop being the high school bully she remembers, and she might come around. Who knows?”
Gilda sat up straight. She gaped at her, eyes narrowing. “Girl.”
“Hey, I said who knows, not that it’s a sure thing.” Dash shrugged and took a bite.
Squinting, Gilda pinched at the bridge of her nose, where beak ended and ruffled feathers began. “Can we just please drop this for now?”
Rainbow gulped and said: “Okay, consider it dropped.”
“Thank you.” Gilda poured some milk into her tea and gave it a try. It was lovely.
“Instead, you can tell me what you’ll do next since Nightmare Pinkie…” Rainbow tapped her chin. “I mean, I guess that’s what we’re calling her. But she’s not making you do the play anymore, right?”
Gilda set the cup down and licked her beak. “Would you flip if I said I kinda wanna keep doing the show?”
Snickering, Dash gave her an incredulous look and said: “Uh, yeah?”
“Well, you were right when you guessed she used some kind of magic to make some of us join up.” She peered into the swirling contents of her cup. It was warm to the touch. “But I dunno. It was… fun.”
Rainbow leaned over toward her. “You realize how shocking this is for me, right? You do realize that?”
Gilda rolled her eyes. “I know it probably sounds crazy—”
“M-maybe let’s not… use that word.” Rainbow gave her space and reached for her tea.
She blinked at her, but didn’t press. “Uh, sure. I know it sounds, uh, absurd, right? But to me, it was kinda like our prank sprees.”
Rainbow gulped some tea and shook her muffin at her. “You’re right, that doesn’t make sense. Can you make it track for me?”
“Sure, it’s more elaborate, and involved. But we’re all playing on and off each other. All to get a reaction from the crowd.” Gilda chuckled. “Only here, you know everyone is in on it, so there’s no hard feelings to clean up later.”
Rainbow chewed thoughtfully. “Dang. You’re really serious about this.”
“Super serious.” nodded Gilda. She wiped raspberry jam off her beak and added: “Mm, some of the other cast members were even talking about shows coming to Canterlot. They’re, like, pretty forward and cool, right?”
Rainbow pursed her lips in thought. “I mean I guess so. Why?”
“I just wanted to know if they’d blind cast a griffin for a musical I heard would be in spring. I’d love to try and be the main fiddler guy.”
Rainbow gawked at her. The ambition was admirable. She simply never would have pictured it being aimed where it is. Not from her. Perhaps this Nightmare Pinkie incident had at least one good consequence. Smirking, she said: “Now I know you’re pulling my leg.”
“What? C’mooooon.” Gilda raised her shoulders and rolled them around. “‘If I were a rich man. Ya ba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dum.’”
She laughed and shook her head. “Well, let’s not set our sights that high right away. But I’m sure you’ll do great.”
Fluttershy flew over Ponyville. There were fears she’d hoped against hope were unfounded. The construction crew mending the cobblestone street below dashed those hopes as the delusions of a foal that they were.
There seemed to be an entire guard detail milling about around the library when she got there. It looked to be about half the town guard. Which, admittedly, was not that difficult or impressive to accomplish; Ponyville was a pretty quiet town.
Or, it had been. Before Luna had shown up.
Setting down, Fluttershy made sure her basket was secure, and that the cloth on top of it covered what she had. She approached and said: “May I come in?”
One guard met her several paces back from the entrance. “Sorry, miss. Library’s closed until further notice.”
A second guard sputtered upon hearing that and jogged up. “You idiot, she’s the Element of Kindness. Of course she can see Luna.”
Unphased, the first guard said: “And we’re currently on the lookout for the Element of Laughter, who we both saw beat the snot outta Luna last night. She’s not getting in.”
“Couldn’t I simply—” began Fluttershy.
“Luna said she needs to convene with the non-possessed Element bearers, weren’t you paying attention?”
Fluttershy grimaced. “If you’d—”
“But how do we know she’s not also been charmed? Wasn’t she puppeting a whole stage troupe?”
“Look, I—”
“And the charm wore off a while ago. I read the reports. You didn’t. Let her through.”
“E-excuse me, but—”
“And the Nightmare can’t cast new charms?”
“For goodness sake.” cracked a new voice. A burly white unicorn shoved through them and her horn lit up. Then, it lit up again. “There. No charm. No supernatural entities. Now let her through.”
Fluttershy watched her stomp away, muttering something about having to do everything herself around here. She looked at the two now much more abashed guards.
“So sorry for the delay, your… eminence.” The second one bowed, though he was clearly uncertain if etiquette called for that.
“Yes,” said the first, scratching the back of his neck, “we’re a little on edge is all.”
They parted for her. She made to go by, and as she did so, stuck her nose way up with an indignant “Hmph!”
Inside, Fluttershy found the entire library dim, not a single light on, or curtain drawn back. The clamor and chatter of the town waking up faded away as she closed the door. It was a strangely eerie scene; it reminded her of the morning after Summer Sun, coming here and finding out her new friend was the lost princess in disguise.
She started for the stairs leading up to the bedroom, but she noticed legs sticking out from behind the front desk. Peering around, she found the alicorn herself, tired eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling. She was in a bedroll, head cradled by a rolled up blanket.
“Luna?” asked Fluttershy.
Luna groggily lifted her head. “Oh. Fluttershy, I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I didn’t, um, announce myself.” Timid teal eyes glanced back at the closed door at the top of the stairs. “Why are you sleeping on the floor?”
“Sleeping. Yes.” Luna laughed dryly, features going wry. Effort groaned out of her as she lurched up to better speak with her. “My room has… it needs some repairs.”
Finally getting a good look at her, Fluttershy noticed the bandages taped to her chin and the red rolled tissues stuffed into her nostrils. Her heart ached. But she couldn’t stop now. Setting her basket upon the desk, she looked her in the eyes. “It’s all true, then, isn’t it? Everything Dashie told me?”
Luna simply nodded. No delay, no reluctance, she just affirmed. She didn’t know what version of events Rainbow had told, but she found she didn’t care either. “Every word of it, I’m afraid.”
The yellow pegasus suddenly felt very small, despite being on the tall and lanky side. She took a long, deep breath, slowly closing her eyes before looking into Luna’s once more. “Then I’m sure you’ll understand that I am very upset with you.”
“I’d say that’s a fair response.” Luna’s expression stayed level, but within, she braced herself for Fluttershy to let her have it like she had that day with Galahad.
Instead of raising her voice and chiding her like she probably deserved, Fluttershy reached over and tossed the cloth of her basket. There was a small pile of baked goods. “Well. I knew you’d probably be despondent over this. It being Pinkie and everything. So. I brought you some Ponish muffins to make sure you’d eat.”
Luna stared at them, then back at her. “Hey what now?”
“Don’t misconstrue, okay? I baked them last week and definitely not this morning when I couldn’t sleep.” Fluttershy shook her head to try and keep her conviction. “They’re stale, so, if you think about it, really, I’m telling you to eat my trash. B-because it’s what you deserve after what you’ve done.”
Luna took one and bit down. Cornmeal dust flitted down over her chest. They were most certainly not stale. “Meaning you no offense, dear, this is the sorriest display of rage I have ever seen in my life. And I have lived for a long time.”
Fluttershy folded her ears back and blew out her reddening cheeks with a pout. “Look, I am mad. I’m full of rage.” She poked Luna’s chest. But then she wiped off the cornmeal dust, cursing her instinct. “B-but I’ll get even madder if my friend starts acting self destructive before she makes this right. Have I made myself clear, missy?”
“Crystal.” said Luna. “Though I still can’t see through you.”
“I hardly think this is a good time for jokes.” droned Fluttershy.
“And I disagree.” said Luna, setting the muffin back into the basket. “I’ve been thinking. And I’ve come to a decision that I’d like to at least try and enjoy my life, even the miserable parts. It just so happens there seems to be an awful lot of misery. So.” She shrugged. “I might as well get my fun where I can.”
Shaking her head, Fluttershy was solemn as she was drole. “You don’t have to make up for her absence. Just… bring her back to us.”
“That wasn’t quite my intent.” Luna dragged a wastebasket nearby and pulled one of the tissue wads. Then the other. She wrinkled her nose and thanked her lucky stars to smell something else—something fresher. That’s when a wrapped cloth, taken also from Fluttershy’s basket, was presented before her.
“I was also wondering if maybe you’d be able to take this back. I don’t want it anymore.” Upon unfolding the little cloth, it was revealed to be her necklace containing the Element of Kindness. She hadn’t wanted to get crumbs on it; even if she didn’t love the object, she at least respected it that much.
The butterfly shaped gem practically glowed, washing Luna in its pink luminescence. Looking up from it into the bearer’s eyes, she shook her head. “It doesn’t quite work like that, I’m afraid.”
Fluttershy donned a frustrated frown, facing her again. “Well. Why doesn’t it work like that, then?”
“Old magic,” explained Luna, “old even in my time when I was young, it was… wild. Like it had a mind of its own.” She reached out and touched her chest. “It’s rather like the gem itself heard me, and agreed. It peered into your heart and liked what it saw so much, it bound itself to it. You know, hence the shape and color.”
“If it knows so much about my stupid heart, then it should know I don’t want to spend the rest of my life fighting monsters.” Hoof trembling, Fluttershy lifted it up, thinking to slam it down on the desk. But she worried about denting Luna’s desk. So she sighed and placed it gently down between them. “Especially if one of those monsters is my possessed friend.”
Luna looked at her, uncertain what to say or do for a long, painfully quiet moment. She drew a breath, resting her tired eyes, if only a tiny bit. “You remind me of myself when I first understood what it truly meant to have become an alicorn.”
Fluttershy took her eyes off the Element.
“Friends and family and community would all come and go; and in exchange for my strength and flight and ample magic, I would have to rise again and again as guardian. When it finally dawned on me, I wanted to go back.” She shrugged. “But I couldn’t. Such powerful gifts cannot be given back. So I played my assigned role. I did so for centuries.”
Fluttershy opened her mouth to say something, but couldn’t find the right words. So Luna went on.
“I watched kingdoms rise, and then their castle walls brought to ruin. And when their banners rose against us, I knocked their walls down myself. Alongside my sister, of course. I faced down every escaped Tartarus beast, every twisted monster that crawled out from the shadows. All to give a home to, and protect a people I’d probably outlive again.”
Luna’s eyes glazed over and she began to grin.
“That, by the way, was the secret reason behind what I did, you know. The real reason—the one that really mattered to me. Sure, the old tale has my crown envy well covered. But at first, I just wanted a friend I wouldn’t have to bury. And nightmares are forever.”
Fluttershy felt her breathing quicken. She tried to steady it.
“Oh, we got up to so much mischief. Juvenile fun at first, giving Equestrians a good fright while they slept. Dreams can’t hurt you, after all, so where was the harm? But the more I complained—about my sister, about my life—the worse and crueler the nightmares we gave. Every pain and suffering I’d exacted on our enemies, I fed to their imaginations. I made them live with my sins just as much as I had to. And when that wasn’t enough for us, they started dreaming of random wanton misery. Like their teeth suddenly falling out of their skulls.”
Nausea began to creep in for Fluttershy. When she belched, she tasted that raspberry jam from earlier. She swallowed hard. “Okay,” she mewled, “I’ve heard enough.”
Luna’s eyes lit back up, as though she were suddenly aware of where she was. Her drained, rasping voice was barely above a whisper. “Oh. Right. I’m sorry.”
“Why did you tell me all that?” Fluttershy felt at her chest, something dawning her about who exactly had just poked it moments ago.
Luna shrugged. “I’m… not fully sure myself. I guess I’m just tired.” She felt at eyes which likely hadn’t shut all night. “I am so very tired.”
“Well.” Fluttershy chewed her lip. “They say a burden shared is a burden lightened.”
Luna’s head slowly nodded up and down. She supposed that made sense.
“But,” stammered Fluttershy, drawing her attention anew, “more importantly… you don’t want to be that pony anymore.” She gulped. “Do you?”
“Goodness no.” Luna held her hoof to her own heart. “I never want to be in that dark of a place again, however long I live.” Her ears drooped. “And it pains me so much to have put Pinkie there. I need to get her out. I…”
Fluttershy picked up her Element and eyed it warily. “Then…” She took a deep breath and placed it around her neck. “Then I want to help you do it.”
Luna looked at the gem. It seemed to spark when she donned it, as though coming back to life. She almost felt like she too was being revived. Pushing up and onto her feet, she said: “You think yourself small and weak, Fluttershy. But I think we’re more alike than you realize.”
“Just…” She shook her head. That wasn’t exactly what she wanted to hear. Especially after what Luna had just told her. “Tell me it’s possible. That we can save Pinkie from Nightmare.”
“Well, it’s only a small piece of the Nightmare you saw, so that’s a start.” Luna felt at the bandages all along the underside of her chin. “I think that’s how Pinkie managed to show through as much as she did.”
“You think so?” Fluttershy raised a brow, wanting to understand better.
“I really do. There were several points where she could have landed a felling blow. Against me, Ruby, Marble. But each time, she refused to commit.” Luna glanced at the shadow of a guard walking by, their head just visible on the drawn curtain of the window. “Trust me. The Nightmare is cruel enough to have wanted to. If Pinkie’s holding it back, we might be able to reach out to her. Maybe… pull her out of its clutches.”
“Soooooo.” Fluttershy rolled her hoof for her to go on. “What do we do? All huddle around her, tell her how much she means to us? The way Dashie described it, I’m not so sure that will be enough.”
“Perhaps not on its own.” Luna tapped her Element. “The Elements are meant to work in tandem, however. It’s when they’re at their most powerful.” She gestured at the corner of her eye. “Pinkie’s has morphed to a mask, with the stone here, but she kept it on the whole time. It’s probably fueling her new powers, too, so I doubt she’ll take it off.”
“Then, if we all get together, connect our Elements to hers, and also tell her how much she means to us? You think that’ll do the trick—doing both at once?” Fluttershy nodded and rubbed her chin. The pieces were falling into place.
“It is most certainly worth the attempt. And our best working plan thus far.” She leaned upon her desk, hooves crossing and brows furling in. “The difficult part will be getting her to all five of us, Elements at the ready.”
Sidling up beside her, Fluttershy said: “She’s gotta be hiding out somewhere.”
Luna reached over to the far side of her desk and slid over a folded piece of paper. “There’s only so many places I could imagine, and I’ve already checked.”
Fluttershy took the paper. It seemed to be a note addressed to Luna with some familiar penmanship. Unfolding it, she read: “You didn’t really think I’d be that obvious did you? Try again, silly.”
The part that really confounded her was the “XOXO” followed by a little doodle of her face, winking and sticking her tongue out. Mouth tight, she looked over to Luna. The alicorn seemed lost in thought.
“And I was working with Twilight and Sunset on old dream walker magic, hoping to trace the Nightmare through dreams. But neither of them are really ready for that. I hate sitting around on my hooves waiting to do something.” She thoughtfully chewed her lip.
Folding the note after one last peek at the final bit, Fluttershy passed it back. She asked: “Is uh, is it true possessed Pinkie… kissed you?”
Luna did a startled double take. “Wh—hey now, only on the cheek. It was clearly a taunt—what did Rainbow tell you about that part?”
“Oh shush.” said Fluttershy with a roll of her eyes and a pat on Luna’s shoulder. “I’m not judging you here, I just want to know. Do you… still have feelings for her?”
Heat crawled all along Luna’s skin; she was suddenly very uncomfortable. “I have a lot of very complicated feelings about Pinkie Pie. Yes. That much is true.”
“Don’t double talk on me now. You just got, like, waaaaaay too honest about your past a few minutes ago.” Fluttershy put her hooves on her hips.
“Yes, but I need you to know, this conversation is far and away more painful for me than that.” Luna sank her face into her hooves upon the desk. It was not altogether so uncomfortable. Why, if she could stay there, just a few minutes longer…
Fluttershy tapped the note. “If what you’re saying is true, and she’s at least a little in control, then don’t you think she’s expressing the feelings she still has for you? Not just letting the Nightmare taunt you?”
Luna kept her face buried. A muffled groan came through them.
“I’m not telling you how to feel about her.” Fluttershy’s timid hoof lingered for a moment before she had enough courage to rub Luna’s back. “But, well, if you did happen to have any feelings for her along those lines, it might be useful to reaching out to her, you know? Strong emotions like that, and weird, wild, old magic, it…” She shook her head and shrugged. “I mean, maybe?”
Luna looked up at her from the corner of her eye. A single bittersweet laugh came up. “We certainly have plenty in common now. We both make foolish, elaborate schemes we think will protect those we care about, only to end up hurting them instead. We both love to… I think Rainbow said we were ‘palling around’ with our constant jokes and barbs.” She sat more upright, slowly but surely. “Both been possessed by the Nightmare. Which, now that I think on it, means it could have shared plenty of those memories I told you about.”
“Yikes.” muttered Fluttershy quietly.
Not hearing her, Luna sat a little taller. Her toothy grin shined in the low light. “And, as I found out last night, we both live for drama, and love a good bout. I can scarcely recall the last time I had such a satisfying fight. Oh, sure, the fights with Moon were decent, and then there was Galahad. But this? This was so much more thrilling—the way she moved and…”
When she looked at Fluttershy, the pegasus tried to put on a brave face and an encouraging smile. “Wow. Yeah. Th-that’s great.”
Luna stopped. She realized how she sounded: bloodthirsty and manic and like a mare who could easily walk right back down that dark path she said she wanted nothing to do with. She huffed, emboldened posture deflating. “It’s—you know when you exert—there’s a certain rush in… I’m… going to stop talking now.”
“No, no, I… think I understand.” She really didn’t. “Kinda like how Rainbow feels good after she does her laps. Same basic thing.” It really wasn’t. “But—and hear me out? Could it be, maybe, possibly that you had fun with the fight because of who you happened to be fighting?”
Luna looked away from her. She opened her mouth to say something in protest, maybe about how she’d been a trained warrior for centuries, the thrill of dueling a worthy opponent having been beaten into her with plenty of practice. But it all felt like a lie. Maybe she could convince one of the two of them; but there’d be no chance both would believe it. Her ears folded back and her cheeks went dark with frustration and embarrassment, a heavy combination that weighed her down.
“Okay.” said Luna at last. “There might be a chance I still have feelings for Pinkie Pie.”
Surprising both of them quite a lot, Fluttershy hugged her around her chest. “Then let’s save her. Together.”
“Oh.” mewled Luna. “Okay. Yes. Let’s.”
Fluttershy let go, pulled back, and then socked Luna on the shoulder. “And that was for not telling us. Which… I am still mad about, but… you’re still my friend, so after this is over, I-I think I need to not talk to you for a little while. If that’s okay.”
Luna felt at her shoulder, as though it pained her greatly. In reality, it was quite possibly the weakest strike she’d ever received in her life. And she’d lived quite a long time. “I think that’s more than fair, dear. Come now, let’s go let the others know we’ve a plan forming.”
“Luna.” said Fluttershy, pulling her back. She gestured to the basket. “I literally already told you to eat some food. You need to keep your strength up.”
Luna smirked. “Okay. Thanks, Fluttershy.” She picked up the basket and headed toward the kitchen. “Let me toast a couple of these, then we’ll head out.”
“I recommend raspberry jam, personally.”
Fluttershy landed along the packed dirt path. Her cottage was just up ahead. It had been a long day. She peered back as the skies went tangerine with the setting sun. Great giant clouds streaked and stretched out above her as an autumn wind tossed and tussled her mane. It invoked a long, steadying breath in her. Then, she continued on the path to home. Home again, home again, lovely peace and more lovely quiet.
Her quiet would have to wait. Upon approach to the little bridge over the stream, she heard banging. Coming around the bend, cautious and quiet as she could on her hooves, she peeked from behind a tree. There, hunched over the planks was Gilda, hammer in her claws. She drove the nail a couple more times, examined it, then nodded.
Gilda set the tool aside, then grabbed the remaining rotted old planks, sticking them neatly into the wide metal bucket she had nearby. With a puff, she dusted off her claws and picked them both up to fly off for the shed. That’s when she noticed the confused daffodil yellow pegasus gawking at her.
“May I ask what you’re doing?” Fluttershy held her empty basket close at her side.
“Oh, uh. I picked up a little carpentry from working with the stagehooves. No biggie, hey?” She turned again to go put her things away.
“Okay, but…” When Gilda landed again, she continued. “But did you just replace those old planks?”
Gilda lifted the bucket. “They were, uh, turning green. Seemed to be rotting, so, I figured what the hay, ya know?”
“You really didn’t have to do that, you know.”
Gilda scratched the feathered plumage around her neck with the hammer. “Oh. Shoot. Guess, uh, I also didn’t have to have Rainbow give me some of the list you leave for her when you have to run into town.”
Fluttershy blinked at her. She looked around her little estate.
Nerves began to pinch at Gilda. She must have done some of those chores wrong. “I-if you need me to redo something, I can.”
Fluttershy looked at her, waving her hooves. “Oh, no, no. It’s fine, I’m just surprised. This was pretty nice of you. Thank you.”
“Nah.” Gilda’s eyes wandered along those long golden clouds. “I kinda figure this is the least I can do.”
“Well. I really appreciate it.” said Fluttershy. They stayed like that, quietly smiling at each other for a moment, sunset winds rippling their feathers and fur. “Say, do you still need a place to stay while your troupe is performing?”
Gilda blinked at her. She set the bucket and hammer back down and waved her claws and shook her head. “Whoa, whoa, I-I couldn’t impose on ya like that. This wasn’t me trying to earn another night on your couch, honest. I just… I guess I kinda… felt bad.”
Fluttershy went over and brushed some of her feathers with the back of her hoof. A little cloud of dust flew off and dissipated in the breeze. “You could also use a bath.”
“I mean, maybe, but…” She watched Fluttershy walk by. Up and across she went. The new boards worked perfectly. A strange pride filled her feathered chest.
Looking back over her shoulder, Fluttershy paused on the bridge’s zenith. “Are you okay with eggs? I’m kinda feeling breakfast for dinner.”
Gilda gaped at her. Finally, she shrugged and nodded. “Uh. Y-yeah. Eggs are great.”
Fluttershy smiled warmly, a cool wind tossing her mane. Pink hair splayed out behind her, almost like a halo. “Good.” she told her. “‘Cause I make a mean omelet with sauteed mushrooms.”
“That sounds, just like, so great right now.” Gilda’s shoulders eased. “Thanks so much.”
Brightwick sat before the fence, hooves hanging on its loose links. Her dark red umber eyes watched the clouds floating by over the town, lavender twilight of dawn fading fast. She and her friends would have to turn about soon and head into the school house. But now? Now something far more important was at hoof.
“Nuh uh.” she told Silver Spoon.
“Yeah so.” asserted the gray filly, tossing a silvery braid back over her shoulder. “The Rose Shadow beat the snot out of Luna. She was totally on the ropes, everypony knows it.”
“I mean,” chuckled her lilac friend, “sure, Luna beat Nightmare Moon. But that’s only because she had her friends, the Elements with her. Maybe she’s outta practice or something.”
Brightwick looked over at them instead of the dreamy clouds above. “It happened on my block, okay, not yours. I saw it.”
“Psh.” said Silver.
“Yeah right.” added Diamond. Even as she argued she brushed out her bouncy mane of lavender streaked with alabaster.
“Honest!” she insisted to them. “Luna came out of the sky while I was cleaning off the makeup from my costume. She threw Rose Shadow to the ground, then she dodged a bunch of hammer blows, all whoosh and bam, and she kicked her back like ten feet; there was all this dust kicked up.”
The persnickety fillies traded an unconvinced look. They nodded, and Silver told her: “Yeah, sorry, widdle Wick, we don’t buy it.”
“The story I heard was Rose Shadow knocked her down with a flip kick, tossed her into the air with a golf swing, then flew after her with a headbutt right to her nose. Bam! Probably knocked out some permanent teeth.”
“No way!” Brightwick gaped at her, lip curling in sneering offense. “Luna is the one that knocked her into the air. She set the monster on fire and they shot through the sky like a comet. Rose Shadow is probably already long gone.”
“Is that what what they’re callin’ her?” asked a newcomer. Looking over, Applebloom and her two friends came through the gates and quickly made way for other foals coming through. While they went off to be in their desks nice and early, they had more meaningful matters to discuss.
“Morning ‘Bloom.” said Wick, offering her hoof.
“Mornin’ Wick.” Applebloom bumped it. She made way for Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo to follow suit, turning on Diamond and Silver. “What’s this about Rose Shadow who’s it now?”
Diamond shrugged. “That’s what we started calling her—the new baddie who beat up princess Luna.”
“She’s not a princess anymore.” chimed in Sweetie pointedly.
“That’s stupid.” balked Silver. “Who would ever want to give up being royalty?”
Diamond lowered her head and spoke more conspiratorially. “Rumor has it she actually hasn’t, and she wants Ponyville to be the capital of a new kingdom she’ll oversee.”
Scootaloo scoffed, incredulous at the very notion. “No way she’d rebel against her sister again. She’d get creamed. Again.” Her friends shot her different looks, ranging from confounded to downright frustrated. Shrugging, she added: “What? I mean, probably, right?”
“Anyhow,” said Bloom with a roll of her eyes, “the monster’s name is Nightmare Pinkie. At least, that’s what my sister and her friends are callin’ her. And they’re the Elements of Harmony.”
Silver tilted her head to the side. “‘Nightmare Pinkie?’ That’s one word off of Nightmare Moon, how unoriginal can you get?”
“Wait,” said Diamond, hoof to her chin as she realized why the name sounded familiar, “Pinkie? No way, you don’t mean that spastic lady who works at the bakery on Fourth street.”
“Ugh.” Sweetie narrowed her gaze at her. “Please don’t call her that.”
Diamond covered her mouth. “Okay, sorry, sorry. But that’s not the same lady.” They nodded. “Is it really?” Her eyes widened when they nodded more aggressively. “No way!”
“It is her though!” Applebloom threw her hooves up with an annoyed little shout. “And my sister’s the Element of Honesty, so no way she’d’ve lied about that to me.”
“Whoa.” Diamond blinked, as though her entire world was suddenly put into new perspective. “Wicked. What happened to her—she didn’t get turned into an alicorn did she?”
Bloom’s pride faltered. “Well, Applejack was shoin’ me outta the room at that point, so I’m less sure. I think she’s like, been changed? By Nightmare Moon?”
“Oh,” mused Wick, “name makes more sense now.”
Diamond started to say she thought Nightmare Moon had already been defeated, but Silver jumped at a sudden thought she had. “Hold on! Weren’t Luna and the baker lady dating? I could have sworn I heard that somewhere.”
A more intrigued smile stretched across Diamond’s little face. “Ho ho, juicy. What do you think their spat was over?”
“Maybe Pinkie’s parents didn’t approve of their love.” said Silver playfully, pretending to faint.
Diamond caught her and giggled. “Or the queen!” Resting her friend across her shoulder, she added: “I bet she was all like: ‘Sister, dear, you simply really rather do not understand the purity of our love.’”
Sweetie Belle covered her giggling mouth. Looking at her friends’ disapproval, she shrugged and said: “What? I could totally see it.”
Shooting up in her hooves, Silver went: “Ooh! Do you think the queen morphed her, hoping Luna wouldn’t still love her if she was a monster?”
“And then Pinkie lashed out when she tried to anyway.” Diamond’s laugh subsided with a sigh. “How romantic.”
“Ah, that’s so sweet!” cried Sweetie Belle, squishing her cheeks in with her hooves.
Bloom, Wick, and Scootaloo all shared a grossed out look, tongues sticking out in gagging motions. Applebloom began to weigh on how none of that could be the case, and they were being ridiculous. But then the bell rang. “Oh. Guess we’d better get to homeroom.”
Scootaloo pulled Brightwick onto her hooves and they all started ambling towards the building. She asked aloud: “What do you think Luna is up to right now? Prepping for their next fight, I bet.”
Brightwick stole one last look back at the clouds bleeding pinks and purples in the sunrise. “Whatever it is, I bet it’s totally awesome.”
Luna searched pocket after pocket of her jean jacket. A single bead of sweat formed on her brow as she smiled nervously. “It’s got to be…” She practically gave up, taking the jacket off to empty out the pockets one after the other. The ticket taker had a patient look about him. He’d clearly been down this road before. “Just a moment.”
The train car gently rumbled along. She felt herself swaying ever so slightly as the ticket failed to appear. Still trying in vain, she peered ahead to the seats where her friends were. They needed some space apart from her. Luna found she couldn’t blame them, so had said nothing in protest. Fluttershy began to crane her head to see what the matter was.
Suddenly, Marble leaned across her lap. “Sir, with all due respect, she’s the Element of Magic, and the queen’s sister besides. We’re on our way to Canterlot on very important business, couldn’t we—”
“No.” insisted Luna, quieting her with a raised hoof. “No special treatment.”
“Bu—”
Luna pressed her hoof to Marble’s sputtering mouth. “I said no. I’m the one who lost my ticket.” She stood, musing internally about how it actually was her fault for a change. “Let me handle the consequence.”
Marble watched her put her jacket back on and ask the attendant to kindly give her a little space. “Just what are you doing?”
“And here’s a tip for your troubles, my good man.” Luna dropped a coin into the pocket of his vest. It clinked against his pocketwatch. Turning back, she told Marble: “Getting off the train. I trust you’ll escort the other Elements once you reach Canterlot?”
Marble glanced further up the cart. “Sure—b-but the next stop isn’t for fifteen minutes.”
Luna didn’t need to wait for the next stop. She didn’t need any of this, really. Her horn flared, and she disappeared in a gout of azure energies. Marble glade blinked at the space she’d just been standing in, mouth slightly agape. She looked to the ticketmaster, and he looked at her. He shrugged. Then he beckoned with one hoof, presenting the ticket stamp with the other. She sighed and reached into her breast pocket.
Pulling it, a second one fluttered out. She watched it scatter across the floor. Once her own ticket had been taken for stamping, she drove the freed hoof against her forehead with a resounding thunk.
Luna, meanwhile, appeared above Canterlot castle. This was becoming an annoying habit. What she hadn’t counted on was the train’s momentum propelling her forward out of the teleport so strongly. She hurtled forward, wings desperately trying to slow herself down.
Clunk!
Winded, Luna began peeling herself off one of the bulbous domes of gold that topped the towers and turrets. She wasn’t quite sure what hurt more, her chest from the impact, or her pride from the rookie mistake. It was all she could do to hope the day would go smoother from there.
Why shouldn’t it? After all, all they had to do was give the royal council a firsthand of how they’d dealt with Nightmare Moon, become bound to the Elements of Harmony, and explain their current work in progress plan for dealing with Nightmare Pinkie. How could that possibly go poorly?
Luna limped out of the sky for the castle grounds. Looking about, she tried to remember her way. She hadn’t been traipsed along through here since the Gala. And even before that, this old castle had not been her home in a long time.
None bothered her as she made her way through the long corridors. The looks she got were a mix of recognition and possibly the realization that that meeting was today. She was about halfway to the secluded room Celestia reserved for just such convenings of only the most important of figureheads when a voice called out to her.
“Oh, Luna, it’s so very good to see you again.”
The voice was cheery, but only very slightly familiar to her. Turning about, she saw princess Cadance. Her coat was primrose pink, and her gorgeously coiffed mane swirled in streaks of violet, magenta, and sunrise yellow. Eyes of deep royal purple sparkled at the sight of Luna, as though the two were long lost friends meeting again for the first time in years. She had a lithe, but full figure, prancing prettily over, pink-to-purple ombre wings flitting with glee.
Luna held back her grimace. The lovely sight of her reminded her of how her powder blue locks were frayed and overdue for a cut, her jaws scabbed, her eyes weary, and wings woefully unpreened. “Oh,” she stammered as politely as she could manage, ignoring the ruffled feather that just fell out, “hello, princess. Y-you as well.”
Upon reaching her, Cadance wrapped Luna up in an all too familiar hug for someone she’d spoken with all of two times. “You’re early. The meeting doesn’t start for another forty-five minutes.”
“I’m rather not used to train rides.” lied Luna through her teeth, how they shined with the most insincere smile she could muster. “So I decided to simply come on over, heheh. I-I figured it would give me some time to catch up with you and the other princesses.” She nodded up and down at her. “You’re looking well, by the way. What have you been up to?”
Cadance’s own smile sparkled with all the sincerity and warmth Luna’s lacked. “Lots of exciting research far to the north. I think we might be close to rediscovering the lost Crystal Kingdom.”
Luna blinked as the memories started coming in. A corrupted unicorn noble, dark magic, and snow—so much snow and ice. She gulped, remembering how many flight scouts were lost to the hills of permafrost, their wings having given out, it was so cold. It had been one of Equestria’s greatest military embarrassments. The generals at the time thought they could brute force the self ordained King Sombra into surrendering crown and control through superior numbers. What a frightful, devastating disgrace.
“Wow.” she coughed. “That’s… great?”
“Mmhmm!” Cadance nodded for her to join her down the corridor. “I’m sure Twily is early. Come along, we can all catch up.”
Luna watched her practically skip away, assured she’d be close behind. She couldn’t help wondering if she’d ever come across as so inappropriately chipper. Despite instincts screaming at her otherwise, she followed along.
In a few minutes, they arrived upon thickset double doors, safeguarded by a pair of the most heavily armored, most elite trained of Equestrian knights. Cadance approached them with a breezy air, as though she lacked any troubles in her life. They nodded to her, their bascinet visors clinking and clicking against their thick gorgets. Her horn emitted a unique unlocking magic, and the doors pushed in on their own.
At one side of the table, Twilight and Sunset were going back over their notes on dream magic. The doors drew them up from their thoughts, though. Twilight was all smiles and waves, happy to see her. Sunset’s smile was surprisingly warm too.
What really drew Luna’s attention was the far end, where a chair rose above the others. Celestia was already in it. She’d been intently, glumly listening to the already present princesses. But the sight of Luna’s early arrival made her perk up, blase expression now having a new, exciting target.
Luna felt the doors shut behind her. Their weight sent a small gust up, gently rustling her tail and mane. Somehow, she already felt like not waiting for her friends was a mistake. She watched Cadance head over to Twilight and Sunset and hug the two of them very firmly. One princess began telling the other two of her treks through the icy north. But ahead of her, Celestia gestured for the empty seat closest to hers.
“I’m glad you decided to come early.” said Celestia, monotonic. “I had something I wanted to discuss just with you.”
Luna hesitated, standing in place. She eyed the little standing plates around the oval shaped table. Each one had a cutie mark emblazoned on it, one for each member of sitting royalty. And the one next to Celestia was clearly intended for Cadance. She eyed up at her, then over at the princess.
Cadance noticed her nervous stare. She stood from her story exchange and waved it off. “Oh, sorry, go right ahead and move that to the next chair over. I’ll let you sit next to your big sis, and we can still be neighbors.”
“Okay.” said Luna quietly. “Thank you.” She finally started making her way around the war table. Her eyes glanced at the map of Equestria and its closest neighboring countries. They were all on excellent terms, as she understood it. Far and away from the constant border wars of her youth. Arriving upon the intended chair, Luna picked up the golden plate depicting princess Cadance’s cutie mark, and set it gingerly down one space over. The chair scraped noisily as she dragged it free. She removed her jacket, placing it over the back. Then, at last, she lowered herself into the chair.
“So.” said Celestia, looming over her. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m a little scratched up,” droned Luna, showing off her bruised and scabbed jaw, “but otherwise, I’m fine.”
Celestia looked down at her, eyes contorted with concern. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance on a summer’s day she believed she was fine. And the longer this dragged on, likely, the less fine she’d be. As soft and gentle in tone as she could manage, she said: “I’m very sorry you had fight her, sister. I can only imagine how difficult that was for you.”
Luna’s wings fidgeted. She broke eye contact with her queen, sitting suddenly all the way up there, looking down upon her from the heavens. What could she say to that? Certainly not the truth; that it had been a thrill and she’d somewhat enjoyed it. That would make her seem sick. So instead of the truth, Luna told her sister: “Yes, sister. That was hard to do.” Then, after a moment’s contemplation: “We’ve had to do hard things before. But I’m rather out of practice. And this was… personal, after all.”
“Oh.” exclaimed Cadance, hoof covering her mouth. “I heard about this. I’m so sorry, you poor dear. And it being your girlfriend too.”
Luna looked down at her twiddling hooves. “We’re um. Not an item at the moment, actually. It’s. Well.”
“What?” interrupted Cadance, shocked. “Oh, but you two were such a cute couple. That really is such a shame.”
“She, erm, rather, went behind my back on something very personal and important to me, so…” Luna’s eyes grew bleary. She didn’t come here for a series of unpleasant reminders.
“If you two ever want to try again, feel free to come and talk to me. I’m excellent at helping couples work through their transgressions.” Cadance flashed her a pleasant, heartfelt smile.
Luna wondered how she’d react if she blurted out to her then and there that she’d wanted to kiss Pinkie back after they were done thrashing one another. Her stomach tightened. She didn’t really mean that, did she? Moon and stars above. she thought. Maybe I am sick.
“I’ll be honest,” intoned Sunset with a shrug, “I didn’t really see it. No offense, Luna.”
“Don’t insult her taste, Sunset.” Twilight lightly bopped her on the shoulder.
“Hey now, that’s not what I meant. I was wondering about how they got along so well.” Sunset rubbed her shoulder.
“Oh Sunset,” cooed Cadance, leaning over her, “you’d be surprised at how different folks can be in demeanor and still have great romantic chemistry.” When her eyes quickly darted over to Twilight before winking at Sunset, the orange alicorn’s cheeks went autumn red.
“Okay, can we move on from this topic?” She looked the other way and crossed her hooves.
“Agreed.” said their queen, somewhat exasperated. Turning back to Luna, she said: “I need to ask you something sister. You’re not going to appreciate it, but it needs to be asked.” Shaking her head, she added: “And I already know your friends will appreciate it even less than you’re about to. So why don’t we get this over with before they arrive?”
Luna’s brows curled further in with each additional word. She loathed the sound of this. But Celestia sounded as steady as a stone wall foundation. “I suppose… Just what exactly did you have in mind, dear sister?”
Celestia took a breath and let it go. “You’re already upset, I see. Please do not take this the wrong way, sister.”
“Tell me then, that I may figure how to take it myself.” Luna’s nostrils flared. She wasn’t sure when her wings had raised out behind her.
“Alright.” she said flatly, ignoring the uneasy looks from the princesses who all but faded away from their world. “I am, by no means, intending to doubt the capability of your friends. I’m sure the lot of you have an excellent plan for capturing Pinkie, and then stripping your Nightmare off her.”
“But?” coldly interjected Luna, blatantly cutting her off.
The queen kept her tone level. “I simply need to know what, if anything, you intend to do should this not work.”
“How do you mean?” Luna wasn’t sure why she bothered asking. She had a pretty good idea where this was going. And the little tug at the corner of her sister’s displeased face showed she knew she was already well aware.
“I’m asking you. What if she can’t be saved? What will you, specifically, do then?”
Luna crossed her hooves. “Asinine. Because obviously she can be saved. I was.”
“Yes, by all six elements, which you currently don’t have access to.” She pointed down at her. It was an accusation coming down from on high. “I’ll ask you again. What will you do, should such a tragedy come to pass, sister?”
Luna snorted, looking back up into those holy lavender eyes. “What do you want me to say, my queen? What words are you looking for, your grace?”
“I know you care for her, Luna. Really I do.” Celestia shook her head slowly, very slowly. “But I need to know that—as an absolute last resort, mind you—that you are willing to do what it takes to protect Equestria from a supernatural threat. Even if that means a permanent but necessary defeat scenario.”
“Have you no compassion?” Luna pushed up, slamming her hooves onto the table, chair tumbling over behind her. Her wings were flared out at her sides, her eyes wild and furious, and her breathing had instantly become indignant panting.
Celestia looked down at the heaving, angry blue figure beneath her. Her mouth remained straight as she considered her for a prolonged moment. It took every tightening muscle in her body to not intone the offense she felt. “Luna.” she said at last, stone-faced. “When I thought I’d lost you for good, I wept for two days. You even saw yourself how inconsolable I was.”
Luna held her tongue. It was true, of course. But she didn’t want to say as much.
“Then, when I thought I’d driven you away, I wept for a third.” She leaned forth in her tall chair. “And you accuse me of lacking compassion?”
Luna’s wings fidgeted and she folded them back at her side. She couldn’t help but steal a glance at the princesses; their concerned stares pierced her harder than any shower of arrows or javelins. A trembling hoof rose to stifle a cough as she cleared her throat. Her magic brought her chair back under her to sink back into. “I apologize, I-I… it was an overreaction on my part, I’m… I haven’t been sleeping terribly well lately, it’s—I’m rather tired, is all.”
Their looks grew more anxious, uncertain what to say or do next. Luna shifted uncomfortably, wondering what the problem was now. A drip made her ear flickered. Peering down, she saw a droplet of water on the table. Another fell down beside it. Reaching up, she realized tears were streaming down her battered face.
“Ah,” she said in a flat, but shaking voice, “I see.” It was odd. She didn’t feel all that sad; not really. But apparently, her body disagreed. She bowed her head. “Please do excuse me. I’m being overly emotional because of how tired I am.”
“No need to apologize.” assured her sister, grimacing. “I tried to broach the subject as gently as I could, but it is… quite heavy.”
Luna made zero effort to wipe her cheeks clear. She saw no point; or perhaps she didn’t care. “Well, I guess you have your answer. I clearly can’t bring myself to do that.”
Celestia hopped down. She floated like a feather, landing gently beside her. Reaching out, she pat her hoof. “Nor will we make you. None of us want this, least of all myself. I found Pinkie Pie to be a delight.” She glanced away. “That Gala business notwithstanding.”
Luna sat stock still. She didn’t bother looking at her—at any of them. So her sister kept talking.
“But you have to understand. If it comes down to her safety versus that of your people—”
“Don’t you mean your people?” asked Luna, blithe in her demeanor, and still not making eye contact.
Celestia winced. “They might not be your subjects anymore. But they are very much your people. Look at how Ponyville took you in and made you a pillar of their community. Think of all the connections you’ve made there. So many of them are now actively less safe as long as long as she stays possessed. It’s not fair to all of them to put her wellbeing above theirs.”
“You’re right.” said Luna dryly. “You always are.”
Celestia’s hooves went around her. She wanted to start crying too, recalling a time when they were but fillies, and Luna had been scared of something she’d seen in the Everfree. She’d cradled her little sister that afternoon, promising to protect her always. Her heart ached—how she wished so much she’d done a better job of that. Yet her eyes stayed dry. “I won’t make you do it, Luna. In the event that shall come to pass, I’ll shoulder the burden for you. I… I’ll protect you. Just like I promised.”
Shuddering, Luna buried her mouth into the crook of hugging hooves, where the others wouldn’t be able to read her lips. She growled out a whisper: “If you ordain to harm so much as a single hair on her head, I promise you I shall make you regret it. For as long as we both shall live.” Her hooves clung to her tighter and tighter. “I told you, I’m going to fix this. I’m going to save her.”
Celestia pat her back firmly. “Then let us pray that you do. For all our sakes.” Before her senses could advise against it, she kissed her little sister’s forehead and gently. She began to sniffle. “I love you, Luna. You’re my little sister, and I should have done more for you, and I’m so sorry. But you’ll always be one of the most important people in my life.”
Luna’s brows eased. Her ears folded back. Another round of tears came bubbling up. She wished this was all over already. A hiccup escaped her. Maybe a little longer wouldn’t hurt…
At lunchtime, Wick was biting down on a tomato sandwich. She ran the back of her hoof across her chin. It was a lovely fall day outside, so she and her friends were eating on a picnic cloth they set out in the playground area. New clouds were pacing along high above, blotting out the sun. Rain was scheduled later on, but for now, the beams dappled the rolling hills with little lights. The grass sparkled like the night sky.
She chewed thoughtfully and gulped before leaning over. “You really think Celestia would beat Luna in a fight?”
Scootaloo pursed her lips, picking at the salad she’d been packed this morning. She jabbed her fork into a cherry tomato and pointed it. “I mean, yeah? Probably pretty easily.”
“I dunno about ‘easily,’ Scoots.” Piece said, Applebloom tossed another couple baby carrots into her mouth and crunched them noisily.
“It probably would be a little easy, to be fair.” Diamond sat nearby, picking at a caprese salad, a disc of chewed bread in her hoof. None of them knew what caprese meant or why she’d invited herself along. They didn’t like her very much, and thought the feeling mutual. Perhaps some things were more important than petty school rivalries. She tore off a chunk of mozzarella and placed it gingerly on the corner of her bread before having a bite. “Surely the queen practiced a little while her sister was on the moon.”
“I don’t get why they have to fight.” complained Sweetie Belle, peering woefully down into her little box of hay fries. “They’re sisters. They should make up and go back to loving each other.”
“It’s, like, what did miss Cheerilee call it?” Silver tapped her chin. “A hyper-thetical? It’s made up, Sweetie, it’s just fun to think about.”
“She beat her before, and that was apparently pretty easy.” said Scootaloo with a shrug, getting right back on topic.
“But with the Elements.” chided Wick, accidentally sputtering a few errant bits of tomato. She made to wipe her mouth again.
“Yeah,” agreed Applebloom, “Elements that belong to Luna and her friends now.”
Diamond ripped a piece of bread and gave it to Silver at her request. “We’re not talking about the Elements or all of them ganging up on Celestia. Clearly they’d win that one. But if it was just Luna and Celestia, the queen would win, hooves down.”
“‘Hooves down?’ As if.” Wick shook her head.
“She barely stood a chance against Shadow… Rose Pinkie or… whatever we’re calling her.” Silver groaned about having to keep track of the growing list of names.
Sweetie Bell dipped some fries in a homemade sauce she’d brought. Pointing them, a few drops got on the picnic cloth. “Ooh, what if she was holding back because she didn’t want to hurt her girlfriend?”
“Don’tcha mean ex?” Applebloom arched her eyebrow at her.
Sweetie’s smile was coy. It was also marked by sauce at one corner of her mouth. “Oh, you’ll see. They’re totally gonna make up and kiss; I have a fifth sense about these things.”
“Sixth sense.” corrected Scootaloo.
“Wait, wouldn’t it be seventh sense for a unicorn?” asked Diamond.
“Yeah,” chimed in Silver, confused, “I thought feeling magic around them was one of their senses.”
Sweetie Belle felt their expectant stares around her. Mouth full, she shrugged and hummed: “I ‘unno.”
“Anyway,” said Wick, rolling her eyes, “we’ve actually met her. Luna’s tougher than you think.”
“Yeah.” said Applebloom suddenly more excited. “She got into a scrap with that head guard guy that one time. The whole dang sky was full of magic shots. I bet if she hadn’t calmed down and stopped the fight, she totally woulda whooped him good.”
“The whole sky?” asked Silver. She was incredulous this happened how she described it, but clearly, frighteningly intrigued that it may have.
“Hold on.” said Diamond, raising her hoof. “Head guard guy? White coat, blue mane, rugged jawline?”
“I mean he wasn’t that handsome.” Applebloom rolled her eyes. “But yeah, sounds about right, I figure.”
Diamond narrowed her eyes. “Luna fought the Shining Armor to a standstill?” When they nodded at her, her eyes widened back out. “She must be stronger than I realized. Maybe she would stand a chance against Celestia.”
“A small one.” allowed Scootaloo. “Maybe.”
Silver scooted over a little closer to Sweetie. “What about Pink Shadow Rose? Do you think Luna could bring herself to defeat her?”
Sweetie Belle smirked, suddenly much more interested in the conversation. “Not a chance, no way. Her feelings for her are too strong.”
Silver excitedly tapped her hooves where she sat. “Eehee, so romantic.”
“They’ll probably duel again and hesitate on their most powerful attacks when they get a look into each other’s sparkling eyes.” Sweetie paid no mind as the others watched them press their hooves together and giggle with glee, shaking their heads.
“Well, whatever happens…” Brightwick looked skyward again. “I trust Luna will make the right call.”
Author's Note
The first draft for this was done last night, but I didn't like the second half. So I scrapped it. Like I don't think it was bad or uninteresting, just going places I didn't want to be just yet.
Also my doc keeps trying to correct Cadance to Cadence, but only about half the time. I keep looking back between them for the telltale squiggly red line; felt like I was being gaslit I swear.
Part 15: The best laid plans.
High noon in Canterlot. The blazing sun fought valiantly against the chill rising on the autumn wind. It was losing, of course, but it never gave up. And somewhere in the metropolis, lost in a jungle of glass and concrete, wandered a navy blue alicorn under its baleful gaze.
The others had wanted to get lunch before catching the train home. Luna left them to it, thinking it still best to give them a little space. A lie about having some lingering business she wanted to see to at the castle had come out of her dishonest mouth easily enough. Fluttershy made her promise she’d get something to eat, and she’d at least held true to that. What she picked up, however, certainly wasn’t the healthy meal the poor dear meant.
Luna didn’t care. On she went, aimlessly wandering in search of somewhere secluded to have at the delicious filth waiting for her. Somewhere away from prying, judgemental eyes. The journey saw her loping along through back alleys, the chatter of foot traffic fading away somewhat. It was a busy city. She missed her home in Ponyville, and wanted somewhere even the sun couldn’t reach her.
After another turn, her only companion was what looked like a pink pegasus in black coveralls. She was humming away above, cleaning windows higher up. But as Luna passed under her, she realized something didn’t sound right.
That tune; it was the melody to the summer hymn she’d sang to warm up the crowd for Lined Lips. She kept walking, trying to listen intently without letting on just yet. She realized the sound of her wings was wrong; the air being displaced by them wasn’t hissing through the feathers at all. Luna practically groaned when she came to a stop.
“Can we please not do this right now, Pinkie?” she asked Pinkie as she turned around to look up at her.
“Huh? Who’s Pinkie?” asked Pinkie while turning to look down at her. The voice she was putting on woudln’t fool a foal, and the mustache she had on was crooked.
Luna just looked up at her, nonplussed.
“Clever girl. You saw right through my disguise.” Pinkie tried to twirl the mustache, and it came right off. “Oops.”
Luna paused. She realized she hadn’t seen her face since the night of the concert. Something in her heart ached. “I can literally see your fuzzy white bat wings too.”
Pinkie looked at them holding her aloft, as if gobsmacked. “Okay, fair enough.” She spun down through the air, coveralls flying in one direction, fake mustache and cleaning bucket off in the other. Upon landing, she had her smiling mask back on. “Well it’s so good to see you again. I was just on my way to where Petra and Nimbus are having their lunch break. Think I might just kidnap them if somepony doesn’t stop me.”
Luna blinked at her, exasperated. “It’s the second date, and you’re already putting in so much less effort.”
The mask changed over to the frown and Pinkie furrowed her brows. “Hey, c’mon, I’m serious. Look, okay, I wanted you to notice me, I was just playing it up for the sake of the bit. Laugh a little, would ya? But I am going to go use them to goad you into another fight.”
Lip curling back in a tight sneer, Luna told her shrewdly: “I have had a very tiresome couple of days, alright? I am beyond not in the mood for this.”
One of Pinkie’s wings unfolded from where they rested, claws hooking at the nape of her neck, and from behind it, a baseball bat fell out of thin air. The head hit the ground with a thunk. Mask smiling, Pinkie took it up and said: “Okay, we can skip straight to the fun part if you like.”
“Or,” said Luna sternly, “you can respect what I just said about not being in the mood, and maybe I’ll give you some of my lunch.”
“Psh. Do you really think you can tempt me wi—” Pinkie stopped when Luna took the large pink box out from under her wing and propped it open. The scent of sweet dough and frosting hit her in a wave. She blinked at the bounty, a single droplet of drool gathering at the corner of her mouth. Looking back up at her, she gave a churlish, unconvinced grin. “Your lunch is a dozen doughnuts?”
“Two dozen, actually.” said Luna, slipping the lid closed. When she got a judgemental stare which pierced through the mask, she repeated herself: “Like I said, the last few days have been terrible. So. I’m treating myself to some indulgence.”
“You can’t eat all that.” scoffed Pinkie, resting the bat across her shoulder. She looked this way and that. “Where are you meeting the girls? Trying to lure me so they can try and convince me how much they all love me, or whatever?” She shook her head and looked in her eyes. The mask was frowning. “Now who’s putting in less effort? Puh-lease.”
“Nope.” said Luna. She tucked the box back under her wing, turned up her nose, and began walking away. “The girls aren’t really talking to me right now. So these are all mine.”
Pinkie watched her go. She eyed the box. Every evil, monstrous instinct roared at her not to. She bit her lip. Calling out, she said: “Y-you can’t just… negotiate with me like that.”
Luna paused and looked back at her. They stared at one another. “What?”
Shaking her head, she explained: “We’re hated enemies. Rivals. You can’t just offer me doughnuts like that. I-it’s not how the story is s’posed to go.”
If Luna didn’t know any better, she thought she saw a few magenta hairs curling in as she stammered. Smirking, she replied with a shrug: “Says who? I’m an alicorn mage warrior, and you’re a nightmare of laughter. We can do as we please. Write our own story.”
Pinkie trembled in place for a moment. She stumbled back a step. Then, she took off, disappearing beyond the corner of the nearest building. Luna watched her go, and waited. Seemingly gone, she sighed, turning back around to continue on. She only got a few steps when Pinkie appeared again ahead of her through another narrow intersection, screaming like a banshee.
“Raaaaaah!” Pinkie’s bat went behind her, winding up as far as she could. When it came swinging around, it crunched into a metal trashcan, sending the dented receptacle tumbling further down the alley. She stood in Luna’s path, huffing as the damaged object rolled past the alicorn.
Luna watched it clink and click to a stop. Looking up at her, she asked: “Are you quite done?”
Lurching forth, Pinkie shoved the heavy end up right beside Luna’s snout. “I’m the one in control here, Luna. No games.”
“No games.” Luna said, gently pushing the bat out of her face. Pinkie let her, of course. “Only doughnuts.”
“I get two thirds of ‘em, and I’ll agree to leave your guard friends alone. This time.” Pulling the bat back, she rested it across her shoulder again, more heavily this time. She wanted Luna to hear how sturdy it was; how much damage it could do.
Reaching out, Luna snatched her free hoof and shook it. Smirking, she told her: “Deal.”
Luna took another bite and relished the sensation of sugar spiking her taste buds. As she chewed, she closed her eyes and took a nice, long, deep breath. The air up here had a crispness to it. She hadn’t felt so relaxed in what felt like ages.
“Moon above, but I love chocolate.”
“It’s a classic for a reason. Though I’m partial to jelly filled myself.”
The two of them were lounging back across a slanted roof somewhere in the upper district. And it literally was the upper district, this part of the city was at a substantially higher elevation. It wasn’t too far off from where the castle was; when Luna peeked down her nose, past her lazy hooves, she could see a small portion of the wall and a few golden bulbs just beyond the rising stone climb of the mountain.
She laid her head back against the shingles and dropped the last bite into her mouth. As she chewed, she stole a glance over at Pinkie. The smiling mask rested on top of her head. Heavens above forbid she get jelly or frosting or crumbs on the magic item she totally, definitely did not respect. Her words on this had been very clear, but also very unconvincing.
Their efforts had been commendable thus far. But there were nine left, and Luna could tell they were both slowing down considerably. She also couldn’t help but notice Pinkie had taken turns picking them out with her. So much for claiming the lion’s share. She groaned over onto her side to look at her.
“I think I’m done.” she said with a pat on her stomach. Pointing at the box, she said: “And perhaps I’m miscounting, but I believe the rest are yours. As per our little agreement.”
Pinkie looked over at her, confused. It took a moment for it to register. “Oh, right, right. Yeah. Um, actually, I thought about it.”
“Have you now?” Luna’s cheek rested against her hoof as she propped onto her elbow.
Pinkie raised a hoof to her, trying to keep a defiant face. “Shush. I have. And I’ve decided it would be better drama if I split them more evenly with you.”
“Better drama.” repeated Luna, bemused.
“Yes.” nodded Pinkie. “For you see, when you've finished eating those extra doughnuts you otherwise wouldn’t have had—” she slapped one hoof against the other, “—that’s when I’ll ambush you.”
Luna smiled. It was unbelievably nice to borrow Pinkie back from the Nightmare for a little while. She really needed this right now. Somehow, though, she imagined that if she actually told her then and there to fight back, then she’d be snatched away from her again. So she didn’t try it. Instead, she stretched out across her back and tried to enjoy this as long as she could.
“And you think your plan shall succeed?” she asked. The few clouds above moved as listlessly and lazily as she felt at the moment.
“Absotively.” said Pinkie warmly by her side. “Posilutely.”
“You are truly a devious mastermind.” said Luna with a facetious chuckle. “Surely the queen should shiver before your tactical prowess.” She stifled a giggle. “I bet my sister would faint if she heard—”
A hoof slammed down beside Luna’s face. Pinkie leered over her, and when she lifted her hoof again, broken shingles fell away. “Hey. Stop making fun of me.”
Luna blinked timidly, supposing it wasn’t to last. “I wasn’t t—”
“Yes you were.” She leaned down closer. “Nopony takes me seriously. All of Ponyville, they think I’m just a random spaz. Even my own friends think I’m crazy.” She huffed. Then she shook her head and refocused her eyes into Luna’s. “Just cut it out.”
Their faces hadn’t been this close likely since the Gala. Luna couldn’t help but think about how easy it would be to lift her head all of one inch. She wanted to, too. But it wasn’t the right time. Instead, she said: “You have lovely eyes.”
Pinkie gaped, eyes shooting wide open. She sputtered and stammered, cheeks going red. Eventually she slid back over to her spot, crossing her hooves and looking away. She was quiet for a long time.
“Hey,” said Luna at last, “I thought we were joking around with each other. I’m sorry if I worded that in a way that made it seem at your expense.” She got no response for a moment. “I was… having a good time.”
Pinkie slumped over onto her side and splayed out onto her back. All her limbs were limp. Especially the new ones. “No, I’m sorry I snapped at you. I’ve just been getting upset way more easily since… well, you know.”
Luna didn’t want to let her go just yet. She thought back to that moment in the bakery, about not needing her pity. So that’s what that had been. Would that she had done more for her. For now, she had to find a way to change the subject, quick. “The um… wings are an interesting… choice?”
Pinkie lifted one, turning the little opposable claw. She mused at how the pale membrane let a surprising amount of light through. She lifted her hoof and traced the new veins she didn’t have before. Following it along, she felt the fine layer of white hair on the appendage itself. “You don’t think they’re too much? I mean, I had to be able to fly because it makes things more dramatic, right? And I thought about the bat wings you had in your… Nightmare form…”
Luna gestured for her to keep going. “O-oh, and the transformation of the jacket was a great way to introduce them.”
Pinkie sat up gripped at her knees. “I’m being such a copycat, aren’t I? I bet they’re calling me ‘Nightmare Pinkie’ back in Ponyville and everything. I’m even only flying as well as I am because I’m borrowing some of your memories on how.”
“Oh.” said Luna, disconcerted. She chewed her lip. “It can show you those, can it?”
Pinkie nodded numbly.
Luna looked away and grimaced. Part of her wanted to push this thought away. But another realized the moment was slipping by, and Pinkie would be leaving with it. She looked back at her, her eyes pleading and forlorn. “Do you… think you could still love me? Knowing now everything I’ve done?”
Pinkie’s head lifted from her knees. She gaped at her. Try as she might to look away, she kept turning her eyes back on her as the words began, caught in her throat, and began again. “I don’t understand, I thought we weren’t…”
Luna slid over closer and and sat up; she placed her hoof onto Pinkie’s where she leaned back on it. “We could be again. With time.”
Pinkie gawked down at that hoof. “Well, I…” She looked back into her eyes, wondering when the cool autumn day high up on a windy mountain had gotten so warm. “I mean, I loved you even when I knew what happened when you were at your worst. It didn’t stop me then, so… why would it stop me now?”
Luna placed her other hoof onto Pinkie’s and yanked her over. Their blushing faces were mere inches apart. “Then fight this. Come back to us—come back to me. Shed the shadow here and now, and I’ll kiss your lips again. You can have me here, like this, as long as you like. Just fight for me.”
Each new word set Pinkie shaking in place. She shuddered and trembled and quaked like soft, malleable clay on a potter’s wheel. Her mouth closed tight, her lips quavering. When her eyes wrenched shut, she shook her head slowly from side to side. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, but you know I can’t.”
“You can always try. You won’t lose any of my respect if you fail, just make the attempt.” Luna pat her hoof. “Please, Pinkie.”
“I want to. I really do.” she said, strained, a bead of sweat rolling down her forhead. Then, Pinkie pushed her away and brought the frowning mask down over her face. “But of course I can’t, Luna. It just wouldn’t be satisfying if it were so easy. Duh.”
Luna pawed the rooftop trying not to slip as she pushed up onto her hooves. She eyed an arch that leveled out for an extended window facade and shuffled over toward it as inconspicuously as she could. She kept talking to try and keep her attention. “I suppose you can’t blame a gal for trying. But fine. We’ll do this the hard way.”
The mask smiled again. Pinkie hopped onto her hooves and spread them out. “That’s what I like to—”
Luna’s horn flashed and she fell limp onto the roof’s outcropping. Her body hit it with a thud, as though lifeless.
“—hear?” Pinkie’s stance eased in an instance as she gawked at Luna. “Huh?”
Looking down, Luna thanked her lucky stars that her sleeping body had fallen into place exactly how she’d intended. It was a risky maneuver, considering the drop beneath them. The world was an incredibly fuzzy facsimile of the scene she’d just been gazing at with Pinkie. Turning to look at her again, however, she saw that familiar silhouette looming over her, a dark shadow that blotted out everything immediately around her.
Luckily, its eyes were closed, focusing on the senses of the possessed as she ambled over to inspect Luna’s limp body. While she did, Luna tried every single variation of Twilight’s mixed spells for detecting—and hopefully tracking—Nightmare entities. Each one she tried by pointing directly at her then moving away to see how the feedback changed.
One seemed to track but not detect. One detected, but didn’t track. One did neither. She grew desperate, knowing Pinkie would surely catch on soon. Another; it detected but wouldn’t track. Again. That one did neither. She grimaced. Something about the meeting of spells caused them to interfere with each other. She went again.
Her horn lit up, detecting. When she moved it away, it dimmed, but didn’t go out. She pushed it further away, and felt the magical tugging. This was it. It detected it and could track it. A perfect experiment. Twilight would be so proud. Luna couldn’t help let out a victorious yell of: “Ah ha! I can see you!”
Pinkie stopped prodding Luna’s body. She heard her voice coming from somewhere else, but only as though it were halfway there. It dawned on her.
In the dream, Luna watched the shadow’s head slowly lift off of Pinkie’s, but never quite letting go. White eyes opened up, burning like stars in the dark, with thick, waxy streams of glowing tears that ran over Pinkie’s head. “And I see you too.”
Luna gulped as she watched Pinkie hoist her sleeping body across her shoulders, balancing her precariously across her wide spanning wings.
“Pretty sneaky, babe. But now I have some collateral.” Pinkie tipped ever so slightly. “If I drop you, do you think you can dream walk back in here fast enough? Want to find out?”
Dream Luna watched her body begin to slip, ever so slightly, inch by inch. She had to think fast. If she darted forward, she might go ahead and toss her over. But if she didn’t act, she might not be able to wake up in time. “W-wait,” she blurted, desperate, “don’t you… want to hear about, um… about how—oh, Gilda! Yeah, don’t you want to hear how she’s holding up now that your charm has worn off?”
Pinkie paused. Both sets of eyes Luna could see grinned mischievously. “Well, you’re not wrong.” After a brief thought, Pinkie pulled Luna into a limp piggyback position. “Okay, tell me. I bet it was real good, heheh.”
Luna let go of a held breath. She’d bought some time. Her mind raced as she relayed what Fluttershy had told her about her conversations with Rainbow and Gilda. “Erm, well, Gilda, she—you remember the grumpy griffin of course.”
“Quit stalling.” said Nightmare Pinkie, nonplussed.
“She, ahem, said she wants to… thank you, actually.” Luna paused when all joy left the three faces she could see, that of the shadow’s, Pinkie’s, and the mask’s. Something had apparently struck a nerve.
“Thank me? I go all the way to three towns over where she’s been staying since summer, make her dance like a puppet on a string, and she wants to thank me?”
“Y-yes?” Luna couldn’t feel her heart, yet she knew it was racing back in her body.
“Psh.” She shook her heads. “I don’t believe you. What for?”
She tapped her dream hooves together nervously. “It turns out she, um… has found quite the passion for acting. She wishes to pursue a career in it.”
Pinkie stared at her as she processed this. Then she tossed Luna’s body down with a frustrated grunt, where it slid right back onto the arch, much to Luna’s relief. Her relief didn’t last when Pinkie started kicking this way and that, the white eyes in her halo of shadow glowing hot with anger. One of them accidentally landed her right in the gut. Her body shifted from the impact, inching closer to the ledge.
“No, no, no!” shouted Pinkie. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to go! She was supposed to hate all that froufrou, stuffed shirt, fine arts nonsense. She was supposed to be mad and bitter and upset and take it out on others like she always does. Then her outburst would upset Rainbow and she’d be double ex bff’s with her, for good, ugh!”
Not wanting to waste a good distraction, Luna dream walked back into her body. Rising with a start, her stomach stung, and she was definitely regretting all those doughnuts now. She tried to push up while Pinkie was yelling and kvetching, but it hurt. She weakly reached out. “H-hey, Pinkie. It’s okay, really. Trust me, not every plan works out, no matter how well thought through.”
Pinkie turned her furious gaze upon her.
“Plus, double ex would be double negative. They cancel out.” She laughed meekly.
One of Pinkie’s wings whirled out in front of her and flipped back. That baseball bat from before flew up into the air and she snatched it by the handle. Rising by her hackles, she readied a strike, coldly growling: “You asked for this.”
Luna blinked away in a blue flash.
Pinkie’s bat bounced back in a shower of roofing material. She looked this way and that, determined to find her. But when she lurched forward she realized, to her chagrin, she’d let her physical corpus have too many doughnuts to placate the creature. The sudden movements were a pain. Her shoulders sank, and she stowed the bat. But she knew Luna was likely somewhere she could hear her. “You win this round, babe. But no more softball. Next time, I’m playing to win.”
Luna peered up over the far edge of the roof in time to see her fade away into shadows. She was gone. Relief sighed out of her and she slumped back down. That had been delightful right up until it wasn’t. But now she had news for Twilight. And a new idea for drawing Pinkie out. Looking back over, the box was still there. She wondered if the princesses liked doughnuts…
“Boom, yes, nailed it, ah haha!” Twilight jerked her hoof back in a victorious nod. She headed the pack through the archives, a spring in her step. “I had a good feeling about that particular combination. Just enough detection to latch on, and just enough tracking to keep a hold of it. Oh, we’ve got her now.”
“Easy, there, tiger.” Sunset caught up to her. “We’ve only got the first steps covered. This is the hard part.”
Twilight waved it off. “Oh pshaw, Sunny. It’s going to be several alicorns against one nightmare. It’s in the bag.”
Sunset watched her jaunty stride, surprised by the nickname but not hating it. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re actually excited about this.”
“It’s the first direct contact pony kind has had with a nightmare being in who knows how long. Plus, I get to fight alongside a hero of mine and one of my best friends.” She put up her dukes and jabbed at the air a couple times.
“I thought we talked about this hero thing.” Luna dragged her hooves along behind them. She might have kept pace, if not for the regret she was carrying. Of course, there were many actions to regret. Currently, however, it was over doughnuts. In that moment, she thought she might not ever touch one again. How thankful then, the princesses were more than glad to take them off her hooves.
Twilight glanced back at her with a playful look. “Oh c’mon, you’ll totally be one after this. Saving Equestria, then your new hometown, even your…” She paused, hoof halfway reaching out for the gate locking off the more secretive section of the archives. “Hang on, I’m just a little confused here. Is she still your ex? The way you described what happened, it kinda sounds—”
Luna’s sad eyes said she didn’t want to go over it again.
Twilight chewed her lip and went to unlock the black iron gating. “Right, sorry. Not really the point.”
Sunset watched the arcane locks unlatch. She sidled up beside Luna. “Whatever she is to you, I think this could really work. I think we’re really about to save her.” Laying a hoof on her shoulder, mint eyes met azure. “If, uh, that happens, will things be okay between us? Better at least?”
Luna considered her carefully. She tried not to wear an expression that might offend, though feeling sick to her stomach made that somewhat tricky. “I suppose I cannot blame how you acted, given your reasons. I’m certainly guilty of similar behavior.”
They followed Twilight in. Sunset asked: “Sooo?”
“I think better is a good word for it.” Luna set a magelight for them. “Really, I’ve been meaning to thank you. Both of you, really. It has been tremendous having the two of you to count on in all of this.”
“I’d say this is the least I can do for setting that thing free.” said Sunset, nudging her.
“And they say a burden shared is a burden lightened.” agreed Twilight.
What she said reminded Luna of Fluttershy’s words. She grew quiet while the princess went on about how it was an exciting learning opportunity, icing on the cake. Growing solemn, Luna said: “I should have believed I could count on my other friends, though. I should have been more open and honest with them.”
As they spilled out into the room the princesses had been using to study in, Sunset gave her an apologetic look before shrugging and saying: “I hate to say I told you so, girl. I know you don’t always think they’ll get it, you being what you are. But you owe it to them to try. And be patient when it takes them a little bit.”
“Well,” stammered Twilight, chiming in, “I’m sure saving a good friend will be an excellent first step to mending bridges. What do you say we go over the plan to make it happen?”
“Let’s.” said Sunset excitedly. She pulled a table nearby while Twilight set up her chalkboard. She offered Luna a seat, and she gladly took it. Anything to rest her aches.
“The pieces are all on the table. We just need to put them to use.” Luna reached over and spread out their notes. “What did you have in mind?”
Twilight began scratching out straight edged symbols, neatly rendered in rapid jotting motions. “We set out tomorrow morning—preferably around ten, when everyone should be awake and we can avoid errant dreams—to scour Ponyville. And the immediately surrounding province if necessary. I imagine that’s the best place to start.”
“It is.” Luna nodded emphatically. “I have reason to believe she’s hiding somewhere in that vicinity. It’s allowed her to be close by for her elaborate stage play plan.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask,” interjected Sunset, “was that any good?”
“It really was, actually. Some of the actors especially were quite good at their roles, despite being amateurs.” She shook her head. “I might have enjoyed it far more, however, if it hadn’t been designed to rile me up. And, to my shame, it worked splendidly.”
“Focus.” Twilight pointed at her. “You’re our expert dream walker. You seem to have the easiest time entering into and exiting the necessary sleep-like trance state for it. So you can bounce between as needed.” Beneath Luna’s mark on the board, she drew two symbols. A sun, and a triple Z, then connected the two by cyclical arrows. Next up was Sunset. “Sunny is our intermediate dream walker. I think we should have her stay in the dream world with the tracking spell open until we get much closer.”
“Let’s see how this thing likes it when it can’t surprise me.” Sunset rubbed her hooves together while Twilight drew the triple Z’s under her mark.
“I’ll carry her along. That will free Luna to lie down and get up in between checking in on her. We want to be efficient, so we can start out with hundred meter intervals.” She drew a long line on the board. “We land to check in with her for directionality, then fly for another hundred.” She drew another line, shorter this time. “Once the tracking spell has stronger feedback, we can go down to fifty meter intervals.” Another line appeared, even shorter. “Then twenty-five.”
“Methodical. I like it.” Luna sat back and crossed her hooves, even as Twilight beamed before her. “But we need to be flexible as well. The first casualty of any skirmish is the plan itself.”
“Once I feel feedback at a quarter as strong as you described,” said Sunset with a nod, “I’ll pull myself out of the dream walk and let you know it’s go time.”
“That should give us just enough time to prepare.” Twilight tapped her chin, anxious but excited. “I can easily take up a support role. I know a plethora of spells for offense—long range and short—defense, illusions, empowers, disempowers—”
“I think she gets the picture, Twi.” said Sunset as appreciatively as she could.
Luna’s face contorted ponderously. “I’ve had the most experience fighting her. I should be our frontline.” Looking over, she pointed to Sunset. “Can you be at my side, ready to ensnare her?”
“Can do.” she told her with a confident nod.
All that left was the role for Twilight. Luna gestured at her. “You, I am told, are quite the master of the arcane.”
“I’m pretty good.” she said, suddenly sheepish. The mastermind orchestrating every step of the plan was seemingly gone. “But I don’t know about that.”
“I think you should be our support, like you say. And our escape plan besides. If things go wrong, can you teleport us out of there?”
Some of her vim returned. “Oh, I’m whizz at teleporting. It’s how I save so much time. Watch this.”
Luna and Sunset followed her around the room as she rapidly changed places, pink magic flashing again and again. When she stumbled back into her original spot, she let out a quick pant and asked: “How was that?”
Luna gaped, eyes resting from the newfound absence of blinking pink lights. “S-spectacular. I… think this could really work.” She clicked her hooves together. “Once we capture her, it’s a simple matter of gathering the other Elements. And then…” She leaned back, shoulders going slack. “It will all finally be over.”
The three of them softly sighed. That notion was unbelievably attractive to the three tired alicorns. Together, they briefly imagined a relaxed day without this on their plate for the first time in months. It was downright dreamy.
First one out of the dream was Luna. Leaning forth again, far more conspiratorially, she looked at one princess, then the other. “By the by, my sister needn’t know so soon how I tested your spell, Twilight. I can’t imagine how she’d react, knowing the Nightmare was not just in her city, but that I’d brought her that close to the castle. And I’m not keen on finding out.”
“Mum’s the word.” agreed Sunset. She was no stranger to giving the queen a little white lie.
“Oh, also, one last piece of information I picked up on.” Luna held the back of her hoof to her chin thoughtfully. “She seems obsessed with being in control of a given situation. When she learned one of her plans hadn’t gone at all how she’d wanted, she became very irate.” She shrugged and added: “I’m not sure how we can use this just yet, but it could be useful.”
Twilight nodded and clicked her hooves to conclude the planning. “All that’s left is a plan to get a good night’s rest.” She pointed at Luna, in as gentle and non accusatory a manner as she could manage. This was extremely difficult, considering she was royalty. “Especially for you.”
Luna paused, midway out of her seat. “Beg pardon?”
“We all need to be in top form tomorrow. And I don’t think a bedroll on a hardwood floor will do that for you.” Twilight gave a curt nod, very sure of this.
“I can’t exactly sleep in my bed, at the moment.” she told the princess. “My window was broken and my wall burned in the fight with Pinkie.”
Sunset arched a brow. “You were a little dodgy on the details for the start of that. How did all that happen?”
Luna’s mouth went tight. She tried to hold back an answer, but Sunset’s stare was persistent. “Let’s call it getting caught up in the heat of the moment.”
Sunset turned the other way and threw her hooves up. “Say no more. I don’t need those details.”
“Regardless,” cut in Twilight before Luna could bristle and bluster, “I know how you can have a very comfy bed for an excellent night’s sleep.”
She blinked at her a moment. Slowly, Luna asked: “Okay? What did you have in mind?”
“I propose a guest room here in the castle.”
Before Luna could protest, Sunset chimed in: “Plus, it would mean the three of us would all be in the same place. It would make prepping for tomorrow go smoother and quicker. We could even readjust our plans on the fly if something new comes up.”
She glanced from princess to princess, confounded and defeated. “Okay. Alright.”
Twilight hopped in place, seemingly giddy it had worked. “The queen will be so pleased to hear this.”
Now it was Sunset’s turn to show consternation. “Hold on, isn’t she entertaining the griffin queen tonight? I thought that’s why Cadance was here.”
“I’m sure her grace Conradine would just love to hear about some of Luna’s exploits.” She walked by for the exit, excitedly muttering: “Score. Two birds fed with one scone.”
Looking to Sunset, she only got a shake of the head and a shrug, every bit as confused as she was. Luna grimaced, wondering what she’d just been roped into. Then she frowned, hating it. And so she sighed, resigning herself to her fate. “Give a little to get a little, I suppose.”
Author's Note
Me: I don't think I can keep this pace
Mon ami I cannot tell you how many times throughout this highly productive week of writing I listened to Omnium Gatherum on repeat. I tried the new Taxxon album that came out this week too, and it's pretty good. Love the vibe she was going for of being at a party in this otherworldly manor where a number of things are all skewed or off in these disparate uncanny ways. I did however find the harsh noise too distracting, and found myself back at it with King Gizzard. Oh yeah, new Vylet track dropped this week too, that was pretty sick.
Part 16: Vignettes of appeasement.
The fading light of day saw Rarity milling about her bedroom. She was by far not retiring for the evening, certainly not so early. But while she awaited company, she shuffled about. It wasn’t about picking something out to wear; hardly was this ever the issue for her. But as she paced, she saw it again and again out of the corner of her eye.
The hilt with its sweeps and curls spiraling around an elegant handle was fetching to behold. She couldn’t deny herself that. It was the real reason she’d purchased the thing, after all. Oh she’d never intended to actually use it. But its pristine design—alongside the fact that all the most famous nobles throughout history had their fancy household swords, of course—had filled her with covetous desire.
Finding herself off in the corner of her room, she stood before it now. Pegs held it feet above her on the wall, forcing her to look up to it. In a way, she supposed she’d been looking up to it the whole time—to what it represented: status and the odd bit of heroics.
Just like the stories she loved reading, with the dashing, daring sort who’d leap at the first sign of trouble, blade at the ready. And here, she found herself as though in the middle of one of those very stories. And it wasn’t so easy. It wasn’t so cut and dry, pun notwithstanding.
Her horn’s magic brought it down to her level. She felt its weight in her hooves, how it dragged at her shoulders. Oh, it had been easy enough to wear on her belt and prance around what she thought was undue panic at the time. Anything to wear a fancy costume and play at being one of those heroes.
She pushed it open. The blade was red. Burning, bloody, bright, slick as gore crimson. A gulp sounded in the quiet room as she recalled how it earned its hue.
It had been just as easy to brandish this thing against Nightmare Moon. In theory, of course. She was going to be the ruin of all Equestria; someone had to point a hardened steel tip at her throat. Would that it had been someone else, who actually knew how to use one of these things. Rarity kicked herself for not looking into fencing lessons since Summer Sun.
Closing the weapon back up, she held it to her chest. It was cold and it was heavy, and even from here she could just barely feel the fuzzy interference with her magic. It was the perfect tool for facing a magical creature. One halfway decent jab, and a fighter was safe from spellcraft for a few seconds.
Her eyes crinkled, brows tightening. Pinkie was now one such magical creature, growing wings, conjuring tools out of thin air, fading away into darkness. Rarity asked herself: if it came down to it, could she brandish this weapon again?
Under better circumstances? Certainly. But how seldom did beggars get the choice? She could prostrate herself for a thousand days, moving only along scraping knees, begging the hands of fate to not have to point this thing at a dear friend. And she’d never be heard. For fate was cruel. Something her other dear friend could attest to.
Rarity relinquished the blade, placing it back onto its display. After all, this had been all she’d ever wanted: a fancy item to call her own, that she might be able to play pretend at being a noble hero from higher society. Perhaps she would steer clear of those pulpy fantasy adventures for a while.
Unless they had a juicy romantic element, of course. She wouldn’t deny herself all her simple pleasures. How could she, when the characters on the cover wore shirts that cut so deep along their chests? At least she was honest about her love of trashy pulp. Besides, a very dashing stallion once said that it takes very good taste to understand bad taste.
There came a knock on her front door below. Her friends were here. She checked her hair one last time before putting on a smile and heading down.
“You mean to tell me, that after all that, we’re stuck on the sidelines waiting for the princesses to do the hard part?” Rainbow Dash was flustered as Fluttershy relayed it to the group.
“We’re still involved.” insisted Fluttershy as they loped along through town. “We’re just… the second part. Still integral, but coming later.”
“Pinkie is our friend, not theirs.” blurted Dash. “We should be there for her too when it goes down.”
“She’s every bit Luna’s friend as she is ours.” called Rarity from behind them. She thought, very briefly, of mentioning that she might be moreso hers than theirs, in fact. But she hadn’t the time to decide if she felt they’d likely be getting back together, or if this was even appropriate to say at all.
“Besides,” interjected Fluttershy before Rainbow could bristle up at that, “I like it better this way. I don’t think I could fight Pinkie. She’s much too sweet.”
Rarity looked at her. She thought again of the sword. Her gaze fell to the cobbles she paced along.
“And just why couldn’t Luna come tell us this herself?” Rainbow went on.
“To be fair, do you even want to see her right now?” asked Fluttershy.
“Nope.” said Rainbow with an upturn of her proud nose.
“Then there you go.” Fluttershy rolled her eyes. “Anyway, the big knight lady said she was staying at Canterlot castle. And that she was attending another royal meeting. She said it was to keep up appearances.”
Rainbow relinquished a most disgusted, offended scoff. “Keeping up appearances? Oh brother.”
“I mean.” mutter Applejack. “Isn’t that kinda what we’re doin’ right now?”
“It totally is not.” said Rainbow defensively. “We are having a calm, fun night out on the town to unwind from a stressful situation that we did not cause.”
“The keeping up of appearances is simply a consolation prize then, is it?” Rarity grinned like a mischievous cat up to no good when Rainbow stared daggers back at her over her shoulder.
“Guess I can’t blame her.” mumbled AJ. “We did kinda cold shoulder her. I’d give us some space too if I was her.”
“Shoulda thought about that before lying.” Rainbow looked to Applejack for a little confirmation. “That’s your thing, right? You care about that?”
“Is it really lying if she kept something from us?” Fluttershy’s voice intoned a genuine curiosity for their thoughts, and less a continued defense of the alicorn of the hour.
“Way I see it,” replied Applejack, “that’s basically lying; just indirectly.”
“I hate to say it, but it’s also not the first time she’s done that.” Rarity gestured and fidgeted in thought. “There was that incident with our little sisters, and their friend, Scootaloo.”
“B-but she didn’t let anything bad happen to them. She’s actually very good with kids; I’ve seen it.” Fluttershy pondered a moment. “You know, I kind of imagine she’d make a good mom.”
“There’s a scary thought.” mused Rainbow. Fluttershy bopped her on the shoulder.
“You’re right to be upset with her. I certainly am. But there’s no need to be so nasty about it, Rainbow.” Fluttershy huffed, looking the other way. They let her brood.
“Well, uh. Flutters ain’t wrong.” said Applejack in a tone of tepid fairness. “About the thing with kids, I mean. I dunno about the mom stuff, but she was real sweet with Applebloom. Little rascal keeps askin’ if ‘auntie Luna’ can come babysit.” She pondered. “Ya know, Trixie’s real fond of Luna too.”
“Can we ever forgive her?” blurted Rarity aloud. She hadn’t meant it harshly. And she hoped it didn’t come out so either. “I don’t think she’s a bad person; not truly. She just needs to realize we need her to be more open with us, you know?”
Fluttershy shivered. She’d had enough of her openness the other day. And as she realized she had no intention of telling the girls even half of what she heard, something clicked. Perhaps she then understood why Luna had wanted to keep them at a certain amount of distance from all of this. Shaking out of it, she said: “T-time heals all wounds, I suppose.”
“You girls can do what you want.” said Rainbow, meaning it every bit as harshly as Rarity hadn’t. “I won’t judge ya none if you do, but I might never talk to her again.”
Rolling her eyes, Fluttershy leaned over into her space. Biting intonation crept in as she asked: “Just like how you were never talking to Gilda again after she went berserk on two of your best friends? I’m pretty sure that’s how you worded it.”
“That is so super beyond different.” she insisted defensively. “Gilda got angry and told me I had to choose between friends, so I did. Luna didn’t let us know when she got a guess about our friend who went missing.”
“She did a little more than that, as I recall.” chimed in Rarity. “I believe Fluttershy and Pinkie told me something about tossing a literal child into a hedge? Really now, Rainbow. You can forgive such abuse, but not a bit of subterfuge?”
“It’s different,” she swore, “she’s… Gilda is different now, really. She’s changed.”
Rarity looked toward Fluttershy. The gal nodded. “Then perhaps when Luna shows you she’s changed, you’ll give her a second chance like Gilda.”
Rainbow looked back at her a moment, saying nothing. Then she turned her gaze ahead.
Rarity felt the sting; perhaps she’d struck a nerve. She tried to change the subject. “Really though, I can’t imagine seeing the same play only days later. I had thought you weren’t one for such arts.”
“I’m trying to support Gilda in this. I want her to stay in my life this time.” Glancing back, Rainbow added: “Besides, Pinkie wrote it, right? So in a way, I’m actually supporting two of my friends for the price of one.”
Applejack decided to speak up. “Look, gals. Let’s all just try our best to be there for Pinkie and Luna both tomorrow. And after Pinkie is safe, we can decide how we want Luna to fix things at our own pace. But the rescue comes first, no matter what. We are the bearers of the Elements of Harmony. It’s our responsibility.”
The other three quietly felt at the accessories of incredible power gripping their necks. They’d all elected to hide them beneath scarves or the collars of the coats they wore against the brisk wind. But they were there. And they were heavy.
Luna donned the Element of Magic. The two moon stones, new and full, clinked gently in place and she paced over to a mirror. It was astonishing what power could be hiding in such little, unassuming things. Moreso, she could hardly believe her eyes. The mare that looked back at her was all but a complete stranger to her now.
This was hardly how she wanted to find out that the queen had ordered her old armor recovered from the site of her greatly exaggerated demise. But then, she knew her sister could be quite sentimental. Her wanting every keepsake to remember someone she thought to be gone wasn’t very difficult to believe.
What surprised her, mostly, was how painstakingly the set had been restored. Luna and her friends had left every piece and plate a charred ruin. Left being the opportune word there. She saw no point in even trying to salvage them for so much as reminders. Yet here she stood, as she had so long ago, in armor that gleamed freshly, unscathed, unscratched.
What a pretty lie clean armor made for.
“Tell me again,” she said aloud, “why am I wearing this?” She didn’t look for an answer, but waited on one while staring at the enchanted bluish metal.
Twilight came into the mirror’s frame beside her, seemingly in awe of the legend come back to life. “Firstly, to make sure it fits for tomorrow. We figured you’d want some protection.” She rested one wing over Luna’s shoulders, sweeping her hoof out. “And secondly, imagine how impressive you’ll look. One of Equestria’s earliest guardians, risen anew in shining armor.”
Luna stared ahead rather blankly. “I don’t see what your older brother has to do with this.”
Twilight gave her a churlish look. “When did you get so funny?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” said Luna flatly. “I’ve always been hilarious.”
Amused purple eyes went for a roll. “Anyway, you do have him to thank, actually. He did a lot of work restoring the enchanted armor pieces.”
Turning to her at last, Luna gaped. “Is that so?”
“Protection magic is his specialty.” chirped Twilight. Her horn glowed, bringing over a cloak, affixing it round her shoulders.
The thing was huge and black, billowing out all around Luna in massive pleated peaks. She lifted a portion, watching the golden hem line shimmer. “Isn’t this a bit much?”
“We want to make a good impression on Conradine.” She could see the worries creasing across Luna’s face. “Hey, hey, this is actually a very small, symbolic event. Purely to show our kingdoms are staying on such excellent terms. There will only be a few leaders from neighboring provinces, they’ll kiss her rings, it will all be over before you know it.”
“And then I get to sleep.” said Luna. She leaned back into the mirror and looked at her weary eyes. She really needed a good night’s rest. Desperately so.
“On a nice soft guest bed with a goose down pillow.” Twilight pat her shoulders. Peering at the setting sun through the nearest window, she announced: “Come now. She’ll be arriving soon.”
The dark of night had encroached, and the play was over. Plenty of folk were milling about the square, so showrunners allowed a guitarist to play while they struck the stage. He was an earth stallion in a pinkish beige coat, like that of raspberry champagne. He had eyes like cherries, and thick, wavy hair the color of dark grapes. The girls recognized his voice, marking him for the undead bard a few nights prior.
Surprise of surprises, however, a powder blue unicorn with silvery locks sat beside him, squeezing away on a concertina. Rarity nodded over at her. “Did you know she could do that?”
Applejack shook her head. “I mean I saw it when we were stowin’ her things in the guest room. She said it was useful for getting attention in noisy bazaars. I didn’t know she was actually good at it.”
Rainbow and Fluttershy brought Gilda over. Dash was excitedly spouting off. “It was another killer performance, girl. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house.”
Fluttershy nodded to Rarity and Applejack. “You remember our other friends.”
“Yeah, hey you two.” Gilda snapped her claw, trying to remember. “Rare and AJ, right? I think we only met once before, but Dash has told me all about ya. Nice to see ya.”
“Well, howdy and how do?” chuckled Applejack shaking hoof in claw. “This sure is different than last time.”
“Woof, yeah.” Gilda pointed over to where Trixie was concentrating, trying to keep up with the strums of the guitar. “I uh, had a chat with her the other night. I’m trying to clear up hard feelings where I can. Guess I have a ways to go.”
“You’ll get there.” assured Fluttershy. When Gilda looked over, she let the griffin have a warm little smile. “It just takes time.”
Rarity took back the griffin’s attention. She held her claw with both her hooves and firmly shook. “I am most charmed, miss Gilda of Griffinstone. I’m pleased as punch to have been so lucky to see a new star being born.”
Gilda laughed rather nervously, claws combing down any errant feathers ruffling up. “I dunno about all that. I mean, I think I’m pretty good, but I did only just start.”
“And what a strong start it is. You’re already quite good at your accent.”
“Snrk.” Gilda covered her beak to stifle a snicker. “I guess mimicking people to mess with them had some good use after all.” She let the stiff chuckles quickly subside. “Really though, I’ll own up to it, I was kinda imitating you. Well, you and Luna.”
“Oh you’re so bad, do go on.” Rarity playfully waved a halting gesture. “Really though, I’m glad to have provided some small inspiration.”
The song closed out. Trixie wiped her brow, but gave the guitarist a churlish look. “If I had known we were going straight into the deep end, I would have warmed up. I’m sure Granny Smith would have loved that.”
“Nah she wouldn’t have neither.” called Applejack, cupping her hoof to her mouth. A little laughter bubbled over the milling crowd.
“Thank you, thank you.” said the guitarist waving at them. He placed his hoof to his chest. “My name is Calypso, but my friends call me Cal. And this here is my new friend, Trixie.”
“The Great and Powerful!” yelled Trixie, bowing for the crowd’s hoots and hollers. If she didn’t know better, she might just think they’d missed her loud personality in the relatively quiet town.
“We are both so humbled to…” He looked over at Trixie. “Well, alright, I am so humbled the crew has let us have the stage after tonight’s show. Does anyone have a request?”
“Oh!” squawked Gilda, wings splaying out. She hopped up into the air. “I think I have one. There’s something I wanna try.”
“Well how can we deny the star?” chuckled Calypso. “And a vampire, besides.”
Gilda flew over, landing on the edge of the stage between the two of them. She brought them into a huddle and whispered.
Trixie scoffed, as though offended. “Of course I know that one. One doesn’t pick up a squeezebox instrument without learning it at some point.”
Calypso leaned back, chuckling heartily. He set his guitar aside and hopped off the ledge to where his pack was. He rummaged for a moment before producing two bottles. Both had been imbibed from, here and there, the swirling contents filling them around halfway. With a wink, he said: “I’ll wear the white wine. I think the vampire should wear the red.”
Gilda hopped down and bounced in place, giddy as a chick. She rose into a pose like a prancing lion, then slowly, carefully, very carefully, placed the bottle on her head. Her tongue stuck out with extreme concentration as it wobbled ever so slightly.
Above them, Trixie began to slowly pump out the notes. Cal began the basic steps, Gilda trying to mirror him across from her. He told her: “Try to stay relaxed. Keep a good bend in your knees, don’t be too stiff.”
As Trixie picked up the pace, onlookers clapped in the gaps between notes, clicking twice on the beat. Sweat ruffled Gilda’s feathers as she swayed side to side, watching Cal’s every move. When the music began to crescendo, he pushed up into his back hooves. She rose onto her paws, sticking her talons way out at her sides, hoping it might help. She managed to halfway follow his two legged jig for a time.
That’s when he sank down onto his knees.
Gilda took a deep, deep breath, and held it. She pushed one paw back behind herself, tail swaying antsily. Then all her weight was on one knee. And the bottle fell. She fell over after it, claws snatching again and again, desperate to keep it from crashing to the ground. Barely, just barely, she managed to thud onto her back, bottle clung to her chest in desperate talons. She peered down. It was undamaged. Air sighed out of her in a gust.
“Aw.” went the crowd, even as Trixie kept playing.
“Hey, she still did pretty darn well for a first attempt.” said Cal. He took the bottle from her and set both aside, then hoisted her onto her feet. Lifting her claw, he added: “Let’s hear it for Ponyville’s own star to be!”
Gilda sheepishly accepted their cheers, wandering back through the amenable crowd. As she went she shook the odd hoof, greeted a smile here and there, met a couple strangers. The parting crowd and shifting path led her to a daffodil yellow pegasus.
Calypso hopped back onto the stage as Trixie finished out. He took up his guitar, assured her she’d know this one, and started off without any further ado.
Fluttershy presented her hoof for Gilda. “May I have this dance?”
Luna blinked at the claw she’d been offered. It was growing late, and her cheeks were plenty warmed by wine. ‘Over before you know it’ had yet to pass. So she looked up, meeting aqua eyes sparkling in the rising light of moon. “I beg your pardon?”
“Don’t beg, dear, it’s demeaning.” Queen Atavia Conradine chuckled. It was a low, hearty sound. The plumage rippling over her head was white and speckled black, fading to leopard spots. Most striking of all, her beak and talons were blue, so bright in hue they practically glowed on the veranda she’d found Luna stealing away to. “I asked if I might share a dance with you.”
Sleepily, she looked her up and down. Under better circumstances, she wouldn’t see any harm. Then she noticed the crown; it was made of an onyx-like metal, black and glossy, and topped by pale blue gems. Propping back onto the rail, she said: “Meaning your grace no disrespect, but there are certainly better partners for dance than one such as I. Princess Twilight, for one, has been practicing her steps.” She pondered a moment. “I wouldn’t ask her brother though.”
“He a bad dancer, is he?” she asked her, churlish brow raising.
“As I’ve seen, his rhythm is fine.” Luna admitted. “He merely struggles to mind his heartier stature. Many of his steps go wider than he means to, and at times he even has to compensate for the extra distance he’s put between his partner and himself.”
Again, Atavia chuckled, It was a warm and inviting noise. And again, she wasn’t leaving her side any time soon, so it seemed. “You’re awfully tall yourself. You don’t have this trouble?”
“As your question pertains to my superior skill as a dancer than he, yes.” Luna nodded quite confidently. She wasn’t sure why she spoke so dryly and blithely and bordering on wryly. Then she realized, again, her cheeks were quite warm for good reason. Several glasses of good reason, in fact. Earlier she’d indulged in one way, so tonight she did so again in another. “I am indeed the better dancer, a claim I’d stake wealth upon, had I any.”
“I’m afraid I don’t take bets, my lady. But I do love seeing the results of bold claims.” Again, the queen offered her dainty blue claw. And again, Luna sluggishly looked at it as though it were poisonous to the touch. Perhaps the bright color didn’t help in that regard. Smiling pleasantly enough, Atavia hid her disappointment and pushed her long black skirts to one side and sat herself upon the veranda railing. “I can tell you think to pass me off to nobility. That, no longer being one yourself, you shouldn’t ordain to touch me. But would it surprise you to know I don’t care about that, and that I actually find you quite interesting?”
Luna thought about earlier. At Celestia’s insistence, Luna had done her best to regale the griffin queen. She’d hung on every word. Luna found that alarming. “I should think that of every word that might describe me, ‘interesting’ might be the most apt.”
“Oh stop, you’re simply incorrigible.” Her smile pushed against her gleaming eyes.
“Aptly put once more, your grace. You’ve a knack for description.” Luna lifted her helm a touch and ran the back of her hoof against the exposed brow beneath. It was terribly hot. She wished she’d denied Twilight when she tried to give her that blasted cloak; the thing was unbearably thick crushed velvet.
“Really, though, I mean it. You are by far the most interesting person I’ve met at one of these.” Her spotted tail swished this way and that.
“Is that so?” Luna swallowed thickly.
Atavia nodded most emphatically. “Your queen and I have this small get together two or three times a year. Sometimes here. Sometimes at Griffinstone. Yet each time, it is unbelievably dull.” She rolled her eyes. “The same ponies and griffins are always showing up, telling the same stories about themselves over and over.”
“And I haven’t the capacity to speak at great length about myself? That’s not how I recall dinner going, when you were sat across from me.” Luna thought back to how her thick paws seemed to reach over a little too far whenever she’d made her laugh. Surely that was terrible manners for a monarch.
A change of music wafted from back within the hall, and she clapped her claws together. “Oh, I quite enjoy this song.” She stuck her blue talon out once more. “May I please have this dance at least? I will beg. It will get embarrassing for us both. I’m a very ugly crier.”
“Snrk.” Luna held back her laughter as best she could, shaking her head. At long last, she placed her hoof into that claw, and said: “You know something, your grace, so am I.”
They shifted about the hall to the rhythm. Luna remembered the steps as best she could. Step two three and one two three now side two three. She nearly stumbled and fell completely over herself when suddenly, out of the blue, Atavia asked her: “Tell me Luna. You’ve no place in the courts now, but how do you feel about courtship?”
“I—okay, wow.” She tried to get back into step and not suddenly yank her head this way and that to make sure no one else just heard that. Surely if she did, it would only draw attention. “Atavia—your grace, I mean, that’s—”
“Too forward of me? Well, I did match you cup for cup. I hope you’ll forgive me. In time, of course. Right now I don’t care.” She twirled under her hoof and laughed as she came back in.
Luna made a quick note to stop agreeing to dances. This kept happening. “Forward to say the least of it. We’ve only just met.”
“My dear, you act as though I proposed.” As Luna dipped her, she gently poked her on the nose with her pointing claw.
“M-meaning you no disrespect, your grace—”
“Please, enough formalities. It would mean so much to me to hear my name on your lips.”
Luna cleared her throat. “Meaning you no disrespect, Atavia, I think there are rather a number of reasons this would not work out.”
Atavia fluttered her eyelashes as the music slowed and so did they. “You strike me as far too proud to let a little something like scandal get in the way of your affections. And I know I am a sight to behold.”
“Y-you are.” Luna quickly interjected.
Her aqua eyes narrowed, squeezed by her coy and knowing smile. “You flatter me. I’d love you to keep flattering me. But something tells me there’s a chapter you aim to write in that story Cadance was blathering about earlier.”
Luna cradled her for another rolling dip, trying not to seem terribly humdrum. “She tell you all that, did she?”
“You should know by now.” said Atavia, shrewd but playful as she backed away on the step and met Luna’s touch once more. “That mare can’t keep her mouth shut on the matters of the heart.”
“Clearly.” Luna couldn’t help rolling her eyes.
Atavia nodded for her to go on. “So, tell me then. This mare must be something really special to have won the eye of such an enticing and intriguing creature.”
Luna stammered. She thought on this. Then she saw those sparkling aqua eyes, pleasant and determined to have an answer. “To put it simply, Atavia, she… really gets me. She makes me feel more understood than I think anybody ever has. She sees me for who I am, not what I am. She… always knows how to make me laugh, even when we’re both having a bad day.”
“Goodness me.” chirruped Atavia. “It all must be true. That’s the brightest I’ve seen you smile this entire time.”
It was only when she said it Luna realized she was, in fact, grinning wide. All cups aside, she did feel genuinely happy as she spoke about Pinkie. She let a laugh escape her. Then another. “You know, it really is. And we’re only finding more things in common day by day.”
Atavia reached up and pecked her on the cheek. “Then take her back, Luna. Woo her. Cherish her always.”
“I…” Luna watched her press her face into her chest. The queen was by far more petite than she; the poor gal shouldn’t have tried to match her cup for cup. Patting her back, she told the queen: “I will most certainly try. Thank you, Atavia.”
The door pushed in and a tune wafted in from two tired fliers humming away. They’d stayed up much too late. The light stumbling also meant they should have left the bottles for dancing. Their wings were laid over one another’s shoulders, and they swayed gently, so gently, to the melody of songs they only half remembered. One hoof and one claw bumped into the two far sides of the door frame.
Fluttershy and Gilda looked at the frame, then each other, abashed. The owner of the cottage stepped aside and ushered forth. “Guests first, I insist.”
“Oh, well, thank you kindly.” Gilda shuffled in.
Fluttershy ambled in shortly after, door closing behind her. She made her way across the living area and leaned upon the entrance to the kitchen. Turning her head about, she asked: “I could make us some tea if you like? Maybe some coffee?”
Gilda made her way over to the couch and tumbled right over onto it across her back. After clicking on the lamp on a nearby end table, she held her claw up to her beak as she yawned. “Thanks, but I think I’m gonna go ahead and catch some shuteye.”
Her eyes fluttered close and Fluttershy had to make them open. “Hmm, I think I should too. Big day tomorrow.” She peered over and watched Gilda stretch out every limb as far as they’d reach before pulling the blanket over herself. “You have a lovely singing voice, by the way.”
“Hey, thanks again for letting me crash here. I know I’ve been a pain in the—” She paused, her eyes shooting open. She gaped at her as she ambled across the living room, giggling mischievously. “Hang on, you said what now?”
Fluttershy lingered in the corridor’s entrance. The only light in the room was a warm lamp bulb turning her daffodil coat to goldenrod, her lilac mane to rosy pink. Her big teal eyes sparkled like sapphires. “I had a lot of fun tonight. I think I needed it. And for what it’s worth, Gilda, I think I like the new you. I hope you stay this way, and keep on growing.”
Gilda watched her fade into the hallway, beyond which lay her bedroom. She couldn't think of anything to say to all that, so she’d elected to say nothing. Or so she convinced herself. What exactly could she say to that? The back of her claw went to her forehead and she wondered when exactly she’d gone so soft.
Another yawn escaped her. Turning over onto her side, she cradled her head with a throw pillow, deciding to simply let it go for now. Come morning, she’d probably forget this entire exchange, and she’d be right back to managing some chores around the house while Fluttershy went off to take care of Element business.
Soon enough, Gilda was dozing soundly.
A door creaked into a dark room. Celestia slipped in. The only light pouring in was the soft luminescence of the moon. She couldn’t help but smirk, seeing how her sister still loved having it nicely visible through her window. Despite everything, this was still her little Luna. After allowing herself a quick laugh, she paced across the room.
“Hey, Luna, I’ll be gone in a second. I just wanted to say how much I appreciate you humoring me tonight. You did so well!” She sat on the edge of the bed. “All the griffins loved you—oh, especially Atavia. I don’t know what you said, but you certainly charmed her; she would not stop gushing about you.”
The queen guffawed. Then she let out a hooting sigh, wiping away a single tear at the corner of her eye. She really needed that laugh. Leaning back, she peered out at the moon. “At any rate, I know you don’t want anything to do with all this high society elbow rubbing. So… it really means a lot to me you put up with this for my sake.” She shook her head. “I know things between us haven’t been spectacular since you got back. I guess I… I mean, I know you have your new life.”
Celestia leaned forward and twiddled her fidgeting hooves. Luna didn’t answer her. But she didn’t hold that against her, knowing how difficult things have been for her lately. If anything, she appreciated her sister not letting her frustrations bubble up and over onto her. Maybe she was getting better.
“I’m very sorry if I’ve come across overbearing with how often and how aggressively I’ve tried to reach out to you and pull you back into my life. I imagine that must have been very frustrating for you. I should have let you come to me on your own terms—you even said as much at the Gala, and of course, I’ve been too selfish to just wait patiently and let that happen. That’s on me. It’s just been hard, having waited so long to have you back, only to be told I need to wait even longer.” She looked up. “That’s not an excuse for my behavior, however.”
The queen closed her eyes and opened them again. She sat with her thoughts for a long, quiet moment. Maybe this was too much from her? After all, the two of them had already had one awfully difficult conversation that day. Perhaps a second one, albeit far more awkward than painful, was a bridge too far for the poor thing.
Celestia pushed herself onto her feet. “Anyway, that’s enough of my digression. I’ll get out of your hair. I just wanted to say I appreciated you tonight, and that… well, I meant what I said earlier. You’re still my little sister, and I love you with all my heart.”
She leaned over to brush some of that powder blue mane aside. That’s when she finally noticed that Luna’s eyes weren’t just covered, they were shut tight. She completely and utterly passed out. In all likeliness, she hadn’t heard a word her big sister just said.
Celestia snickered and shook her head. Glad thing none were there to see such an embarrassing display. Far more softly, she whispered: “Goodnight.”
Then, she finally let the creature rest.
Author's Note
Luna said:
Sunset slept peacefully. On and on she slept, blissfully unaware of the world around here, even as the sun climbed higher and higher. Noon was fast approaching. But still she slumbered. In her dreams, there was a fuzzy, blurry facsimile of the real world, but only around well traveled places. Luna had told her that such areas had gained importance in a plethora of unconscious minds. But the rough idea of a town hewn from half remembrances quickly faded. There was green, and there was darkness. Even so, she refused to awaken. Not until this was done.
Luna appeared again, resplendent in her old armor. She turned herself about in the void of dark verdant, feeling the aura of her horn tugging this way and that. The minutes felt like hours. On and on it went. She thought if it weren’t for being able to keep track of her own limp body floating nearby, she’d forget which was up and begin rotating away, off into the empty nothing of forgotten random details of less tread ground.
When Luna appeared again, Sunset could have sworn she hadn’t seen her in days. She was curled in on herself, trying to keep her breathing leveled. She felt the hoof on her shoulder and nearly jolted.
“I did warn you this part would be difficult.” said Luna. Even as she shook, she pulled Sunset into her hold.
“Was that before or after you were done cuddling the griffin queen?” spat Sunset.
“Nothing untoward happened between us.” Luna said patiently. She knew Sunset didn’t mean her barbs to aim right for the throat. In the dream world with no dreams, and no faint shared memories, there was no frame of reference whatsoever, for either time or location. With neither to hold onto, an individual could all too quickly lose their grasp of the reality they were quickly leaving behind.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Sunset lurched forward, placing her chin across Luna’s shoulder. She didn’t care that this was far too familiar of a gesture, or that it wasn’t that far off what she’d just accused Luna of doing with foreign dignitaries; any comfort at all was of great relief.
“Hey now, it’s quite alright. If anything, you’re doing splendidly.” Luna rubbed her back and let her have that shoulder of hers as long as she needed. “In my time, I saw would be dream walkers falter after not half as long as you. You really are a paragon of patience.”
Sunset took a step back and fanned her face. “Okay, okay, I’m good. Lemme see, it’s… that way.”
Luna followed that direction, but looked back at her. “Are you alright? It’s okay if you aren’t, we can take a break.”
“I’m fine, I’m fine, I just needed a moment to collect myself.” She took a deep breath and held it until calm serenity seemed like the only expression she was capable of.
Dream walker magic had been her domain for so long, some small part of Luna nearly forgot what a risk it could be. Some of the first to try walking dreamless had gotten lost, stuck waiting until sleep at nightfall brought a trail of breadcrumb dreams for them to find their way. They’d tended to give up the magic entirely. “I’m serious, Sunset. I went through this exact sort of isolation during my exile. It is not for the faint of heart.” She pulled her closer in. “Do not push yourself on my account.”
Looking up into her eyes, Sunset felt as though she were truly seeing Luna for the first time. The sight of her was at once overwhelming and humbling. She grabbed the hooves holding her shoulders. “Trust me, Luna. I’m okay.” After some hesitation, she added: “If you could pop in a little more frequently, though, that would be great. I’ve been talking to myself to pass time, but I’ve run out of things to talk about. Also, we’re getting closer.”
Luna nodded. “Noted.”
Then Luna was gone. Sunset was alone again; asleep and lost in the dreamless land of dreams. All that she could focus on was her breathing, the spell, and following her body. So she did just that. On the cycle went, of numbing hours seemingly passing by, Luna coming back for her for the update, and repeat. It felt like days had gone by.
When Sunset started anxiously thinking she couldn’t take much more, ready to throw herself onto her knees and beg Luna for a break, she noticed something off. Looking about, the world was still little more than the blurring void of dark green shades and hues. Perhaps they were in a forest? But in the direction the detection spell pointed, it had grown darker still.
Slowly, but certainly, inevitably even, verdants gave way to black, black, and blacker still. Ahead was a zone of darker than the inkiest of stormy nights. And she was flying straight toward it. It would have been an excellent time for a stop, where Luna could appear and tell her it was nothing to worry about. But that didn’t happen. So she worried.
The shadow seemed to stretch outward, encroaching on more and more of her field of view. Sunset gulped hard, recalling the memories preceding her own brief, but highly unpleasant possession. On and on it spread. She found herself calling in vain: “Luna? Could you please get in here?”
She smacked her forehead. “What am I doing? She can’t hear me.” Then, a very scary thought occurred to her. Luna had said the shadow—Nightmare itself—could hear her while she was dream walking. Staring into the approaching abyss, the words fumbled right out of her. “Uh oh.”
A single line of white light screeched across the darkness. It spread up and down, thick threads of shadow ripping and snapping as it did so. A flood of white hot tears streamed forth from the underside to pool across the lack of a visible ground. The gaze was scalding and blinding, and a single high pitched giggle grated her ears.
The eye grinned and Pinkie said: “Peekaboo, I see you!”
That definitely wasn’t okay. Sunset looked about, panicking. Her body, of course. It was time to wake up. She beat her wings against the dreams and raced toward it even as the dark slowly encroached upon everything she could see. Mind rejoined body, a meeting of essence and corpus, and… Sunset promptly tumbled over Twilight’s shoulders, landing squarely in a bramble laden scrub brush.
For one thing, it was a great relief to her to feel again. And yet, for another, it hurt.
Shooting up and scraping off leaves and thorns, Sunset announced: “Something’s wrong—she saw me, she knows we’re here.”
Luna reached out and pulled her free. Sighing, she looked out ahead. “So much for the element of surprise.”
“This place though?” Twilight stared ahead through the clearing, horn meticulously removing every thorn Sunset missed. She chewed her bottom lip. “I thought you said you’d checked it.”
Sadly, she had indeed. It had been where she found a second note waiting for her. Luna sourly mused: “It would seem her sense of irony is very much intact.”
Turning about, Sunset took one look at the castle ruins that awaited them and groaned: “Oh. You have got to be kidding me.”
The Everfree castle grounds stretched out before them, the grand seat of the heavenly sisters from which to rule all Equestria, now and forever. But ‘now’ was ancient history. And ‘forever’ had fallen apart in a fraction of its declared span. The decrepit walls were barely standing yet as the trio slowly paced across the grounds to its gate. Luna paused by a great stone plinth in the courtyard, now markedly empty. She glanced toward the knocked in set of tall doors, around and beyond which were countless piles of rubble and broken bricks caked with mortar dust.
Twilight stood on pins and needles, pensive in pose and posture, frightful eyes swiveling about in her skull. “I told myself the next time I came back here it would be to document things.” Looking for leadership, she asked: “What’s next, Luna?”
The old helmet was heavy upon Luna’s head. Slowly, she also looked this way and that, desperate to catch any sign they were being watched. She knew they were, of course; a little confirmation would have made her feel less paranoid about it is all. “We stick to the plan. Sunset at my side with me as vanguard. You’re our rearguard and our way of retreat should we find ourselves caught out.”
Before Luna could take the first step to leading them into the fray, Sunset pushed in beside her. She shouted: “Watch out!”
A sunbeam of aqua energy erupted from her lowered horn, aimed for one of the few remaining ramparts. She hit something, center mass, and it ripped apart into several pieces. Her jaw dropped as different scattered pieces rained down into the courtyard with thunks and clattering crashes. “Oh, o-oh sun above…”
“Now hold on, Sunset.” Luna reached out with her magic and yanked the largest chunk across the courtyard. When she caught it, she turned it about in her hooves to reveal it to be an old helmet, brown and orange with rust. A fragment of log fell out of it. “It was just a trick.”
The three of them looked up at the looming castle wall as Pinkie’s giggling echoed on the air from somewhere within. “Aw, did somepony just think they killed me? How horrifying!”
Discarding the ruined helm, Luna stood tall. “I’m only going to ask you one last time to give this up, Pinkie. We don’t want to fight you.”
There came a pause. As though Pinkie actually had to ponder this—really weigh out her options. She didn’t really need to, of course; it was just for show. At long last, she called back: “Nah. Those two might not want to. They’re scared of me. But you?” She chuckled. “You know what I can do. And you want more. Don’t deny it.”
That was highly to Luna’s chagrin. She blushed and groaned. Turning to Twilight and Sunset, she said: “She’s trying to get under our skin. We, erm… have to ignore it.”
The other two watched her try and shake it off and march across the courtyard. They fell into step with her, taking up their assigned positions. Sunset moved her head left and right, while Twilight stole occasional peeks over her shoulder to make sure no danger was following them in. Luna’s hooves were heavy on the steps. She pushed over a pile of large stone bricks to move beyond the entry portal, and promptly began stifling her coughing fit from the dust.
“Mind your step, girls.” she told them before creeping in, legs and shoulders tense.
Together, they entered the ruin. The sun was quickly left behind for the dry darkness of long untouched, disheveled granite construction. They climbed in through the first antechamber, making for the foyer. Then, something lurched behind them. Just as Twilight looked back to see what it was, a massive ball of stone fell in front of the entrance, sending up a cloud. It gained momentum quickly, tearing through the dust.
“Hold me!” yelped Twilight as she hopped over toward Sunset.
Luna reached out, racing thoughts speeding through her eyes and mind. “Quickly, we need to—”
“No,” shouted Twilight, lurching forward with Sunset under her hoof, connecting her other to Luna’s outstretched leg, “hold onto me!”
Kzap!
The trio were gone from its path in a magenta flash, reappearing several paces back, in the spot where it landed just beyond the entrance’s precipice. From their now safer position, they watched its wobbly path careen into the foyer’s exitway into the main hall, and go spinning wildly off kilter in another shower of detritus. It was out of sight, somewhere to the left of the fragmented wall, by the time they heard another, final crash.
There they all stood, panting, holding onto each other tightly. It took some time for the moment to pass, Pinkie’s giggling echoing in the main hall beyond as they tried to calm down.
Shaking free of Twilight’s still tense grip, Sunset looked to Luna and balked: “Did you know she was capable of that?”
Luna was gawking up at the ceiling, gauging the mechanisms involved. They were rudimentary, the sort of thing one would rely on in a pinch. She’d overseen her fair share of siege preparations, attacking and defending. Looking back at Sunset, she answered her: “No. But it’s something I’m capable of. We’d best move cautiously.”
“Maybe we should split up?” offered Twilight. Her legs trembled like she was a fawn in search of its mother doe. “Any other traps of that nature won’t be able to catch all three of us at once that way.”
Again Luna’s own words echoed in her mind. She watched Twilight shake and shiver, wondering if the princess had ever seen any real danger, any conflict beyond sparring. She glanced back toward the main hall, lowering her voice to a hush. “No. She’ll be wanting that. Divide and conquer.”
They watched her raise her chin high and proud, and keep going. There wasn’t another word on the matter. So Sunset fell into position behind her, and waved for Twilight to do the same. The lavender princess hesitated. The only light ahead spilled in from entire missing sections of the roof and back wall of the main hall. But what else awaited in the long shadows cast by beam and pillar set her heart along a knife’s edge. Any moment, it could fall over. With as deep a breath as she could manage, she steeled herself and followed, being sure to check behind them periodically.
By the time the trio had gotten into the main hall, the remaining ceiling rising high above them, they found more figures waiting for them. There were armored wooden dummies strewn about the hall. They were especially dense where they lined the banisters looking over them from the second floor balconies and walkways. Everywhere they thought to look, yet more stood perfectly still, as unliving effigies often did, and stared towards the entryway they’d come through.
Beckoning them forward, Luna quietly called for a quick change in positioning. She placed them into a triangular formation. “She could easily be hiding among these things. Here, I’ll be at the fore. Sunset, you watch our left. And Twilight, the right.”
They huddled up, backs together, each staring in their given direction. Their steps were painfully slow and cautions, each of them wide and pensive in stance, ready to jump at a moment’s notice. It was entirely too quiet, all of Pinkie’s taunts and laughter seemingly having faded away. Yet on they went. On they—
“Movement!” pointed Twilight down a corridor, hopping one pace in that direction. “I saw something appear at the end and duck around the corner.”
“Wait, wait,” stammered Sunset, “I did too, down that way.”
Luna hesitated. She looked down Sunset’s corridor. There was nothing there she could see. Then she looked down Twilight’s. It was much the same. She chewed her lip in consternation and thought, peering around at the second floor above them to see if something else was going to fall on them as soon as they chose one over the other. “Hrm,” she pondered, “let’s go with… Twilight, you’re pretty observant. We’ll go your way first.”
The triangle spun about and started toward the corridor. As they approached the doorway, Twilight couldn’t help noticing an armored dummy facing towards them. Had it always been that way? She could have sworn all of them were pointed towards the main entrance. Must have been her nerves; paranoia, that was it.
It had only been about ten paces down that corridor before Luna felt the weight of her hoof sinking into the step. She hopped back with half a second to spare as the tiles fell away, cracking across sharpened wooden stakes in the waiting pit below. She let an equally sharp breath go. Looking back, she nodded up, and the three of them began flying down the rest of the hallway instead.
When they rounded the corner, they found the rest of this portion of the castle had already long caved in on itself. There was, however, another dummy posed by the rubble as though they’d been crushed under the collapsed, twig limb reaching out as though desperate to be pulled away to safety. They all let out a frustrated sigh and turned back the way they’d come.
Soon enough, they found things had changed in the main hall. While they were off investigating, every single dummy had been shifted to now face where this corridor poured out. It gave them pause enough. They fanned out a few paces from one another, hackles raised, and looked over their silent assailants as much as possible to try and find her in their midsts.
Luna blew a couple errant locks of powder blue aside. “A cheap tactic. Come, let’s see about the other hall.”
Down the far corridor they went. Toward its end, Luna called for a halt. She spotted a taut chord low to the floor. Following it, there was a catch holding a log among the rafters ready to swing down toward them. And once they were safely past that, they found nothing but jammed doors and empty rooms. The empty rooms were fine. The one at the end with more dummies staring at them had gotten on her nerves.
Once again, when they’d reemerged into the main hall, all the dummies were looking toward their new exit. Luna was growing sick of this place. There were too many bad memories. Something the Nightmare doubtless knew all too well. She stood tall, letting go of all the ready-to-pounce tension they’d all been holding, waltzing in past the encroaching effigies.
“Wait, Luna, c’mon. We just need to be patient.” Sunset could tell hers was running thin. She jogged up by her side, looking this way and that, still wary of an ambush at any moment. “Let’s take our time, maybe check upstairs.”
“And be toyed with for another two hours?” Luna wrenched her wretched gaze over her shoulder at the nearest dummy, its nasalguard protecting nothing, its gaze blank and empty. She threw herself sideways toward it, pivoting to crack her rear hoof into its lack of a mouth. The chunk of wood and rusted helmet went flying, and the entire body tumbled to the floor. One slain combatant down, she snorted, saying: “I think not.”
Twilight sidled up beside Sunset, the two of them facing opposite directions. They were still looking out, desperate to not get caught unaware. Twilight swallowed her nerves. “I think Sunset’s right, Luna.” She watched her tromp up to a trio of false guards, knocking one of them to the ground. “It’s like you said earlier, she’s trying to get under our skin. We can’t let her, right?”
Luna eyed the pair still standing before her, defiant. She reached out and knocked the branch legs out from under one and watched it collapse. It was almost halfway satisfying. But it would never hold up to the real thing. With a sigh, she turned about to go and rejoin them. “You are right again, Twilight. I simply wish to fight her and be done with it.”
“Careful what you wish for.”
The voice had been little more than a hushed whisper on the wind, tickling at Luna’s ear. It still caused her to jerk back around. There was nothing still but the dummy. Unless…
“What is it?” asked Sunset, stepping over toward her.
“Get back!” shouted Luna, whirling back to try and get the warning out in time.
She hadn’t. The illusory disguise of a dummy faded away as Pinkie vaulted up and over Luna’s shoulders mid shout, spinning through the air. Crack! The baseball bat fell apart in a shower of splinters from a single blow to Sunset’s jaw. The princess stumbled back once before all the light faded from her eyes, and she fell faint, limply hitting the ground with a thud.
“Sunset!” screeched Twilight. She took a step forward. Then stopped. Training told her this was the part she was to pounce at the monster. But instinct told her to keep her distance.
While the princess left standing hesitated, Pinkie sought the former princess. She threw herself at Luna, whose spell went astray into the far wall as she tackled her to the ground. Chuckling through two smiles, she ran the back of her hoof against Luna’s cheek and said: “Are you ready to take me seriously now, my dear?”
Before Luna could spit up a retort, a magenta starbeam caught Pinkie in the side, sending her tumbling across the floor, where she bowled over several more false warrior standees. Twilight rushed over and yanked Luna onto her feet. “O-okay, plan A failed, what now?”
Luna took half a second to think, glancing back at Sunset on the floor. She looked Twilight in the eyes and said: “Keep her safe. Nightmare’s trying to prove something to us, and I’m scared of what that might mean.”
Twilight’s jaw sank and her eyes went wide. She backed away slowly, gaze flipping between Luna and Sunset. “B-but I can help, I can—”
Bits of armor and wood flew into the air as Pinkie rose and screamed towards Luna. Twilight jumped back into position, to stand over Sunset. She watched Pinkie carefully, with great calculating eyes shaking in her skull. Every movement, every twitch, every tense of every muscle, Twilight gauged it all for turning her way, and her mind raced through an archive’s worth of spells she might use to stop her if she did.
Instead of heading in Twilight’s direction, Pinkie rushed Luna, howling with fury. Luna caught her lunge, partially with magic grips glowing from her horn, partially by rearing up and extending her hooves. Body and aura moved in tandem, throwing Pinkie face first into the tiles. Her mask cracked the old stones, her entire body lurching behind her, but even as she began to slump to one side, she threw her legs into it and rolled up onto her hooves, wings lashing behind her to try again.
Ducking and sweeping her horn, Luna let loose a lash of white flame. The flare caused Pinkie to recoil. Just long enough for Luna to dart under where she hovered. She hopped and rolled back with help from her wings, all of her hooves wrapping around the dazed Nightmare. As she continued her roll, she again drove Pinkie stoneward with a crash that set even Twilight’s teeth on edge two dozen paces back.
Up Luna rolled in an instant. She was tall, chin raised and glowring gaze passing over the bridge of her nose while Pinkie coughed and trembled. The back of her hoof ran against the chin of the smiling mask. “S-so you’re done holding back now, is that it?”
Luna lowered herself, widening her stance. “I can do this all day.”
“Good.” Pinkie hocked up a gob of spittle running red. “I love a gal with stamina.”
A fast barrage of silvery bolts let loose from Luna’s horn. Pinkie ducked one, side stepped the second, and threw herself into a tucked roll under the third. Along her haunch, she slid in just under Luna’s chin, where her rear hooves flew up before she could step back. It was a lucky thing she didn’t bite her tongue, but as she reared from the sting, Pinkie spun against her own shoulders, whirling her hooves around across her shins, sending the alicorn thudding across her side.
Rising and hopping back, Pinkie whirled one of her wings around. From within them, a shower of knives flew forth. Luna barely rolled out of the way as steely tips chipped away at the tiles she left behind, clattering across the ancient stonework. Luna pushed up and aimed a haphazard moonbeam at her. It was hardly meant to hit her, nor did it; she just needed to create a little breathing room to stand up. In dodging the shot, however, Pinkie ducked behind one of her dummies, and was seemingly gone.
Luna looked this way and that for half a second before she realized she’d faded into the shadows. The only problem was that entire half of the hall was in shadow. She spread her wings wide and rushed toward the princesses. Landing opposite Twilight’s vigil with a huff, she said: “Vigilance, Twilight. She aims to leap from the shadows.”
The two of them began to slowly circle around Sunset. It was deathly quiet, save for their own racing hearts and nervous breathing. Then a groan got their attention. Sunset sluggishly pushed up, then immediately felt at her jaw. “Ugh, ow!”
Twilight crouched by her side. “Stars above, Sunset.”
“Twilight,” snapped Luna, glancing down at her from across her shifting shoulder, “focus.”
“Right, right.” she said, hopping back up to look out for the monster.
Sunset sighed and started pushing up onto her hooves. She was dizzy, and certain the new bruise forming was pockmarked by splinters. Head spinning, she tried to spit out: “Sorry I let her get the jump on us.”
“The fault was my own.” Luna’s gaze jerked. She could have sworn something moved between the false warriors. She peered harder into the darkness beyond the reach of the flitting light. One tentative step brought her forward, away from the tiny patrol she and Twilight were creating. An errant shaft of light from a hole in the roof began to warm one side of her face when something arose from the other.
An aqua sunbeam reached out even as Luna startled, tearing into the figure. Loose armor went scattering across the floor and Sunset held her aching head from the effort. She cursed under her breath. “Can’t believe I fell for that again.”
Twilight pat her on the shoulder. “It’s okay, Sunset.”
Luna snorted, kicking aside a remaining greave. Glancing back, she said: “Thanks for getting it, either way.”
“She seems to move herself and things through shadow, so maybe we should shed a little light on things.” Sunset took a deep breath, centering herself. Luna and Twilight returned to her flanks while she uttered incantations. A sphere of burning aqua light rose above her horn and grew in both size and intensity. Bright and brighter, until it was white hot, setting the whole hall alight. The shadows shrank away, stretching then burning.
Pinkie stepped out from behind another dummy, shielding her eyes and frowning twice. Her scowl was a genuine one, having just lost her agility, but she tried to play it off. “Ugh, but I don’t want to come out and play today.”
With a nod from Luna, Twilight stepped forward with her. The two of them crossed their horns, then flared them aside. A volley of magic missiles loosed through the crackling air between them, each bolt a swirling mix of silvery blue and magenta.
Pinkie Pie was busy treating some of the dummies like her friends, asking them if they wanted to grab a bite to eat after this. Then she hurled one in her way, where it caught several of the bolts. Broken bits of armor and wood rained as she flew along, past another rank of faithful soldiers, each one ready, willing, and able to take a blow meant for her. And they did just that. When the last of the mixed bolts had found their way into felling her compatriots, she careened for the perpetrators.
“My turn.” said Sunset, interposing herself in front of Twilight. With a whirl of her horn, aural rings of aqua energy formed around her hooves. She reached out and slammed one against the tile.
Pinkie screeched to a halt as a large ring of light formed in her path, before a gout of seafoam fire shot up. She heard another stomp, and saw a new ring just beneath her. She whirled aside as another pillar of flame erupted. There came another stomp. She had to keep flying.
Sunset grunted with effort as she set pillar after pillar at her; the effort of concentrating on multiple spells at once was a toll for even the most trained of wizards. The increased capacity for magic that a wizened, supernatural body like hers had was a great boon.
Luna took off, steadily following the geysers of flame, watching as Pinkie weaved along. Lowering her navy horn, she summoned her aural lash. When Pinkie leapt left, just as she was hoping for, her chord of energy was ripping toward the spot. She lassoed her around the waist. But Pinkie took one look at it, then smiled at her. With one good roll of her hoof, Pinkie threw the slack back at Luna, wrapping the loosening link around her neck. “Uh oh.”
Pinkie wound toward her, spinning on the air, and Luna lurched forward too. When the two met in the middle, aqua ring appearing beneath them, Pinkie held one hoof out and asked: “May I? I dance a hot tango.”
Thinking quickly, Twilight gave Sunset a push. All her rings faded, and her miniature sun faltered, barely staying lit. She breathed a sigh of relief as the two, though entangled yet, were unscorched.
While they were still intertwined, Pinkie quietly asked Luna: “So which one do you care about more?”
Luna tried to balk at such a question, glancing at the princesses even as she let go of her last spell. The aural lash faded, the two parting. It wasn’t a fair question. She hoped there was no tiny movement of her eyes that gave Pinkie an idea of one over the other.
“Heh, got it.” said Pinkie smugly.
But of course. thought Luna. It had been a silly thing to hope. The Nightmare wanted anything it could grab onto and twist. She had to grab her first; she had to end this.
When Luna flew for her, Pinkie let herself fall out of the air, beating her wings out behind her before hitting the floor. She soared towards the princesses, hooves skidding tile.
“You’re low, I’m high.” said Twilight, sidling up beside Sunset. The pale orange princess nodded, and let loose a quick volley of aqua bolts. While she did, Twilight raised her head high, loosing several magenta ones.
Luna followed Pinkie’s path from above, watching her duck and weave between Sunset’s attacks right before Twilight’s missiles careened down toward her. One magenta bolt struck her between her shoulder blades as she avoided another aqua one. She spiraled past another, wings wrapped around her as they scraped the floor, another magenta bolt narrowly missing. Closer; she grew closer by the second. An aqua bolt glanced off her shoulder, a magenta one struck her mask, bursting off in a shower of magic sparks that flitted away like butterflies. She was closer yet, Luna then diving into a crash course to intercept her.
“Don’t worry,” Twilight quickly assured Sunset as she ceased her volley, “I’ve got this.”
“Wh—” began Sunset, right before Pinkie crashed into Twilight and Luna came down hard in the space Pinkie had just left behind, fragments of old stone tile rumbling out of place.
The pink and lavender figures went tumbling across the hall, Pinkie coming out on top, her wing unfolding to let a knife drop into her hooves. She raised it high, manic in expression, and brought it down with a shout: “Goodnight, princess!”
A magenta flash briefly replaced Twilight, and the knife sliced harmlessly through empty space beneath her. Before she could wonder where she’d gone, the same flash erupted behind her, Twilight’s rear hooves already pulled in and ready. The kick hammered the side of Pinkie’s mask as she turned toward the noise, clanging and sending her careening back.
She recovered, swiveling back onto her heels and coming up practically frothing at the mouth as she picked up into a trot. Twilight disappeared again as she reached out for her. The purple princess reappeared above her, throwing her whole body weight down into a slam. Pinkie bounced off the floor a few inches as Twilight blinked in underneath her, horn pointed, and fired a magenta beam that sent her skyward. When it faded, Pinkie began to fall, only to have Twilight appear next to her already somersaulting through the air with another kick across her masked face.
Pinkie beat her wings with a fury to steady out, mask frowning as she screeched: “Grr, hold still!”
“No.” denied Twilight, appearing above her. One flick of her horns lashed Pinkie’s wings mid flap. She vanished again, reappearing above the second floor balcony. The aural lash connecting them threaded between the railing as she flew hard, yanking her back first against the banister which cracked from the impact. As Pinkie fell again, Twilight appeared right on top of her, shoving her hoof in under her chin to drive her into the dirt herself.
The resulting crash cratered the tiles somewhat and sent a shower of debris into the air. Rising amid the settling dust, Twilight stood tall above the groaning figure gripping at the hoof keeping her down. And though she panted, sweat running hot across her brow, Twilight was unbelievably proud of herself. Her mind was tremendously sore from the rapid and interwoven spellcasting, but it seemed as though she’d done it.
“Twilight!” cheered Sunset as the two jogged toward her. “That was incredible!”
“Verily.” said Luna, seemingly awestruck.
Twilight then very, extremely foolishly took her eyes off Pinkie while Sunset let her sunlight spell fade, thinking also, incorrectly, the danger was over. The lavender alicorn sheepishly put her free hoof behind her neck and let herself smile warmly, despite the headache now growing beneath her brow. “Aw, shucks, you guys.”
Pinkie, meanwhile, still had ahold of the hoof pinned against her chest. Subtly as she could, she slid one up, and the other down, waiting for just the riiiiiiight moment, when the others would be a little closer. She coughed up: “You really shouldn’t have come here.”
“Hmm?” mused Twilight, looking back down at her prize, right before Pinkie kicked her rear hooves out from under her, then twisted across the floor still holding onto her foreleg. There came a loud snap that made her sick to her stomach. Only, she was too busy screaming to be ill.
Sunset lurched forward, panic forming across her face. The only thought on her mind was getting to Twilight, so no spells answered her scared, confused call. She tried to recoil as Pinkie rolled up and lunged toward her, her wings blocking out any nearby light. It was too late, though; she’d gotten too close. The world spun away from her as she was tackled and thrown across the way into a pillar.
A white flare of fire sailed from Luna’s horn, narrowly missing as Pinkie whirled, knife dropping anew from her wing. The second wave of lunar flame scorched across her mask; she was uncaring as she sputtered and lurched and—
Tsnk!
Luna’s eyes went wide as she stumbled forth into Pinkie’s hold. She couldn’t believe she’d just done that. Pinkie howled with laughter as the navy alicorn shuddered… for half a second before she realized something didn’t feel quite right. It didn’t hurt as much as it should have. Peeling away from her grip, she looked at the giggling mare, distraught and disturbed. “I-I don’t understand.”
“It’s a prop, silly!” To illustrate her point, Pinkie held the knife before her, its blade clean. When she pushed it and let go, the blade sank into the handle and sprang back. It was totally harmless. “Oh, the look on your face.”
Luna watched Pinkie play with it and giggle, utterly amused. One corner of her mouth perked up ever so slightly. Then the other. Sick as it was, she found she couldn’t quite help herself. A nervous laugh escaped her. Then another. “Heh… heheheh?”
“Hoo boy.” cooed Pinkie, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye, letting the prop knife fall to the ground. She watched Luna shake and tremble as the uncertainty of her own amusement uneased her. Then, a couple more daggers appeared, pinched in the claws of her wings. She wickedly told her: “These, however, are very real.”
Luna had no time to muse or ponder or wonder. There was sharp, burning pain in her sides. She coughed and sputtered, and the world suddenly felt much slower. It was also growing darker, but she felt strangely warm, as though a thick blanket were falling upon her weakening body. What harm then, she wondered, would there be in resting her eyes for but a moment? After all, wasn’t she tired? Didn’t she deserve to rest?
The light faded as muffled voices cried out. Their meaning was lost on her. Luna slept peacefully. On and on she slept, blissfully unaware of the world around here, even as the sun passed its zenith for the day.
Author's Note
Don't hate me. I promise it gets better.
I mentioned before about having music going while I work. This week I put on a little medley of well known opera numbers. My favorites happen to be I Pagliacci, and Habanera, so naturally I went back to those. And it is only just now occurring to me how perfect and ironic it is I worked on this with those in my mind.
Applejack darted in and out of the kitchen. She hadn’t had this many guests since the last time it had been her turn to host the family reunion. Despite some supposed cousins being so distant, she wasn’t even sure they were on the old Apple tree, she’d seen to their needs just the same. They couldn’t hold a melting candle to who sat at her table now. Not that she didn’t appreciate them; they were certainly family. Allegedly, in some cases. But those folks out there, they were like family too, one she got a say in picking and choosing. No uncertainty about it. And she wouldn’t have chosen any different. Out she came with fresh drinks of water, lemonade, and iced tea. “Alrighty, lemme see if I remembered here correctly.”
As she set them down at the various spots, Rarity reached out, again begging: “Really, darling, why don’t you let me give you some help.”
“Nothin’ doin’, Rares. Y’all are Apple family guests, so it’s my duty to treat ya right.” She nodded, very affirmed. A big red figure shuffled past, and she gave him a quick hug, thinking it overdue. “Thanks a ton for helping with lunch, Big Mac.”
The huge stallion grew a grin across his broad face. He nodded and simply said: “Yup.”
He was a man of few words, her elder brother. Still, she knew better than anyone every intent behind that single word. Mac could be very eloquent when he had the motivation for it, it just so happened he typically spoke a very nuanced, seemingly simplistic language most of the time.
Applebloom leaned upon the table from the far end, where she sat beside Sweetie and Scootaloo. What had really surprised her, however, was she’d invited Brightwick, Diamond Tiara, and Silver Spoon as well. Applejack had been under the impression she didn’t get on too well with the latter two. Even still, through a mouthful of PB&J, her little sister called: “E’ryone hafs a play ah—” she gulped, “and a drink. Come siddown already, AJ.”
“Hooves off the table at lunch.” chided Applejack from across the way. “And don’t go yappin’ with yer mouth so full like that, it’s bad manners.”
Applebloom sat back, abashed, and ran a napkin down her mouth. “Sorry, sis.”
“You didn’t tell me your older sister ran her own business.” cooed Diamond, leaning over to Applebloom while stealing a peek at AJ check in with her guests.
Bloom rolled her eyes. “Pretty sure I did, Dia, she’s basically the coolest older sis ever.”
Silver leaned back in her seat and called out: “Oh, thanks again for having us, miss Applejack. Sorry if Dia and I were being too picky about our salads.”
Applejack chuckled as she pat Rarity’s shoulders. “Ain’t no thing, li’l darling. I’ve got friends with refined tastes myself, so I keep a little expensive dressing around just for them.”
“Oh do stop it.” Rarity said, chagrined. Despite the mild embarrassment, she reached up and touched the hoof at her shoulder, tenderly.
“I dunno,” said Gilda across from her, poking her fork into her bowl again, “I think they’re onto something. This stuff is pretty good.”
“It’s okay.” balked Rainbow at the griffin’s side after another bite. “Like I’m glad I tried it, but I think I still should’ve gone with good ol’ honey mustard.”
Leaning toward her, Gilda pinched her pointer claw and thumb. “See, Dash, this is the difference between you jocks and us artistes. We just have, like, a taste for finer things.”
Fluttershy gently nudged her ribs from the griffin’s other side. “Don’t be rude, Gilda.”
“Yeah,” agreed Dash with a grin, “and don’t forget your jock origins, girl.”
“Okay, okay,” balked the griffin with a playful roll of her eyes, “my apologies. In an ounce of fairness, honey mustards do go nicely with baked cauliflower.”
Rainbow stole a swig of lemonade before shaking her head. “No way. Buffalo sauce all the way.”
“That stuff just isn’t spicy enough for me anymore.” Trixie looked up from her water. When she got a couple looks of disbelief, she raised her snide nose. “Oh, trust me, girls. While doing shows back east, I had sauces that would curl back every pretty hair on your little heads.” She blinked at Gilda for half a second before adding: “Or feathers, in your case. No offense.”
Gilda shook her head and raised a glass. “Hey, none taken.”
Granny Smith began to cackle lightly from her end of the crowded table. She gave Trixie a shrewd look. “Betcha never been to the bayous out southwest o’ here. One spoonful of their tofu gumbo, and you’d lose that snooty tone o’ voice right quick, gehehe!”
Trixie laughed right alongside her. “I haven’t, but maybe we’ll have to take that trip. The Great and Powerful Trixie does not back down from a challenge.”
Applejack couldn’t help but chuckle. Looking about the table, she asked aloud: “Okay, though, every creature here have what they asked for?” When she got thankful nods, she said: “Good.”
She made her way to the doorway leading into the kitchen. But she couldn’t help stealing one last glance back at the scene before her. Trixie continued bickering with Granny Smith over the spiciest things they’d ever eaten. Rarity discussed costuming with Gilda, who mentioned the little bit of carpentry she’d picked up, Fluttershy confirming even as Rainbow scoffed. Diamond seemed to be boring Bloom with the finer points of running a business like theirs, while Scootaloo and Brightwick argued, apparently, over which of the Elements would be scariest if Nightmare possessed like the ‘Pink Shadow.’ Silver and Sweetie, meanwhile, took turns braiding each others’ hair in between bites, gushing about who made the cutest couple, trying to keep to a hush even as they giggled mischievously when Gilda came into their equations and assessments.
A wistful sigh escaped Applejack. She couldn’t help it. This had been meant to merely be a gathering of the Elements, awaiting Luna’s call to join her so they could finally pull Pinkie out of the dark. But when lunch had been brought up, one extra friend suddenly got invited along, then another, and so it grew. And yet, she found she didn’t mind one bit. Always having had her hooves full at the farm, AJ found it hard to make new friends. Pinkie had been how she’d met most of their mutual group. And now her circle grew hale and hearty, all after Luna showed up in her life.
As she went in to get her and her brother’s drinks while he fixed their plates, she couldn’t help but think she still owed a good deal of thanks to the alicorn. Her home had never felt so warm and lively outside of the odd reunion falling to her to host. And she couldn’t help but smile, loving every minute of it. Meeting Mac by the doorframe, she asked: “Shall we?”
Applejack had to peel herself away from the window. The afternoon was dragging on. What was a simple, friendly little lunch get together had gotten stretched out longer than she ever would have expected. Rarity pulled her back to the living room. “I’m sure things are still going swimmingly, darling. But as they say, a watched pot doesn’t boil, hmm?”
She hesitated, stealing one last peek down the path leaving her estate, thinking she’d finally spotted some movement. It turned out to be an autumnal breeze scattering leaves across dirt that had been packed down hard by generations of hooves and wagon wheels. Nodding, finally leaving it behind, she told Rarity: “Yeah, I s’pose you’re right.”
“Of course I am, dear. Come, come, join us for tea and relax.” Rarity sat her down on the sofa and took the spot next to her. She could tell the dear was still very pensive, so she laid her head across her shoulder, lovingly sidling up beside her.
“Did they put on any coffee?” Applejack asked, poking her head up. “I think I’d rather have a cup of coffee.”
Rarity pulled her back down into the seat and pat her chest. “Yes, yes, there will be coffee as well. Though I’d say you shouldn’t have more than one cup. We don’t need you getting any more antsy on us.”
Snorting, Applejack replied: “Fine, fine. I’m fine, okay?” She glanced back at the window. “Just… woulda thought we’d be hopping to it by now.”
Normally, Rarity saved this as a last result. But this was dire. So she pulled on her chin and gently, softly, tenderly kissed her freckled cheek. It was easy enough to ignore the playful displays of squeaky little gagging noises, especially since they were defended right away by the other half of the children who told them not to make grossed out noises at their sisters. Perhaps some day, when things were calmer, they’d also be sisters in law. Who could say what the future held in store for them. For now, though, this was nice enough.
“Relax.” Rarity told the now much calmer, albeit somewhat embarrassed mare. “Within the hour, I’m sure we’ll get called to our positions, then by tomorrow, everything will be right as rain.”
“Okay.” muttered Applejack sheepishly.
Fluttershy came through a moment later, politely asking everyone what they wanted to drink. Not so much the foals; they weren’t allowed coffee yet, even if Diamond tried to insist her parents let her have the odd cup of cold brew on very special occasions. Silver confirmed it, but she also said she didn’t see what the big deal was, that the stuff was terribly bitter in her eye. After everyone had said which they’d prefer, Gilda made another play at cards against Trixie and Mac.
Big Mac was proving a tricky opponent, keeping his cards and how good they were very close to the chest. Each new round, he’d give them a single peak and set them all face down, ever to touch again until necessary. His monotonic, stone-faced nature gave him quite the advantage against the two far more outspoken ladies. Even as Trixie swore she’d picked up on his tell, however subtle, he simply chuckled with a shake of his head and a “Nope.”
The children went back to fussing over little tin pieces on an old board game Applejack had been given when she was much younger. Wick rolled the dice, then excitedly moved her piece to what was apparently a very advantageous space, if the groans of the other girls were anything to go by. Silver had made an assertion at first, about preferring chess. One which AJ tried not to take too personally; a child’s ego was a fragile thing in need of gentle cajoling and encouragement, after all. Despite this, the little gray filly quickly became absorbed, adjusting the frames of her glasses as she pondered the rules and how they interacted.
Fluttershy went back into the kitchen, where she and Rainbow had both insisted on helping with the dishes. Granny Smith had insisted harder, of course, so had involved herself in the whole process. The old gal kept saying that if someone fed her, she aimed to return the favor one way or another. Some small part of Applejack hoped that when she got to be Granny’s age, she’d stay just as tenacious; she wanted to keep helping those she cared about as long as she could.
Tea, coffee, and an assortment of shortbread cookies were served. Everyone present drank of the hot, dark concoctions, and ate crumbly sweets. They played. They chatted. On it went. The hour or so wait that Rarity predicted ended up proving true.
There came a knock at the door. Applejack set her emptied mug aside, great relief washing over her. Big Mac was already setting down what was surely another winning dealing of cards, but she told him she’d get it. He shrugged and went back to beating one very flustered Rainbow Dash, even as Gilda and Trixie nudged her and welcomed her to the world they’d shared for the last hour.
When she pulled the door open, AJ only halfway recognized the young mare that stood pensively before her. It took her a moment before she remembered the name she’d been given. “Oh, hey. Ruby, right? We uh, met Nightmare Night, I believe?”
Ruby nodded, mouth tight. She stepped into the precipice and thought to come right out and say what she had to. That’s when she noticed the scene in the living room. When she noticed the children especially, she thought better of it, and beckoned AJ out onto the porch. “I’ve um…I have news; it’s about the thing today.”
Applejack’s heart sank. Her mind raced as to why she wouldn’t want to say this in front of the little fillies. She glanced at them, cheering and groaning in equal parts as the momentum of their board game seemingly shifted. It had been so fun for them, idly bickering over who’d be winning which hypothetical fights. Nodding to Ruby, she joined her outside. “I take it something, er… delayed someone coming to get us.”
Ruby licked her dried lips and swallowed thickly. “I don’t know how to say this, I’m sorry. But… something went wrong.”
Luna found herself in Canterlot castle once more. She was in that old armor and the overly thick black cloak Twilight had given her to wear. From the highest tower she could find, she watched the stars streak by overhead. No amount of music wafting from the grand hall below could remove her from her perch. No longer did she hold any interest in such gatherings. She was plenty content to be their guardian they kept at a healthy distance. A relaxed breath of fresh night air eased through her.
“Hiya.” came a voice behind her. It sounded equal parts apologetic and energetic.
Turning, Luna found Pinkie Pie exiting the spiral stairs for the balcony she’d stolen away to. She had on that cute dress Rarity had made for her, and seemed completely alone and fully herself. Aside from those wings, of course. But the mask and limp locks were gone. “Oh. Hello.”
“Mind if I join you?” asked Pinkie, pillbox hat held nervously in her hooves.
Luna found herself gazing back over the dark horizon. “As you like.”
Pinkie sidled up by her side. She leaned upon the railing and tried to see what she saw in the stars sparkling in the distance. It didn’t take long for the quiet to grow far too heavy. “I’ve missed you.”
“And I you.” said Luna without hesitation, even as she kept her eyes forward. “The real you.”
“I’m…” Pinkie stammered and gritted her teeth and chewed her lip. A bitter chuckle escaped her. “S-sorry, it’s just—the words, they’re so hard sometimes, you know?”
Luna finally turned toward her and held out a hoof. “Then don’t speak them.”
Pinkie looked at the offered hoof, then up at her. “I don’t…”
The music grew louder, as though the entire rest of the castle between them and the hall suddenly didn’t matter. And why should it? Luna wanted the music now, so music she got. “Life is so fleeting. Share a dance with me. After all, I hear you dance a hot tango, whatever that is.”
Pinkie’s lower lip quivered and her eyes turned glossy. It took a deep, deep breath and it took a lot of nodding to keep the tears at bay, but she did eventually take that hoof. The two of them vaulted over the rail and landed their hooves upon the solid air beyond it. Together, they waltzed in each others’ embrace in the night sky, no wings required. After all, it was a dream; they worked in every way they shouldn’t.
As they went on, the music slowed, and Pinkie rested her head across Luna’s shoulder. It was strong; she loved the way it tensed with muscle as she moved. Luna was so strong, and she really respected and admired that. She couldn’t help but smile. Because she really admired it, truth be told. In her wildest dreams—yes, even wilder than this one—it was Luna carrying her, across who knew what threshold, she didn’t care. As long as it was in her hooves.
“I doubt this is a tango,” Luna said at last, holding dearly onto Pinkie’s back, “nor is it a very ‘hot’ dance, I suppose. But then, you are still quite a good dancer. You showed me that plenty of times.”
“You’re very good yourself.” hummed Pinkie with a sigh. She lifted up her other hoof and held onto Luna’s shoulders. It was almost funny how much she didn’t want to let go. “You’re too good, even.”
A bitter laugh bubbled up from Luna. “You should know by now that’s not true, my dear. You’ve been given a look into some of my furthest, darkest memories, after all.”
Pinkie’s chin scraped the crushed back velvet as she shook her head but still clung tightly to her. “But that’s not the mare you are anymore. It’s not the mare I fell for, the one who’s doing everything she can to be better.”
Luna tried to ignore it as a couple stars in the night sky above them widened out, opening like eyes to watch them. “There will always be more to do before I’m worthy of one as kind and sweet as you.”
She finally pulled herself away from Luna’s embrace and glared up at her. “Don’t say that! After what I did to you about your sister? And the way I acted after? A-and here lately, when… when I…”
It was so hard watching a mare so usually full of joy falter. Let alone shudder the way Pinkie was in her hooves. Those big blue eyes shut tight as the first few drops spilled across those pink cheeks. Luna pulled her back against her shoulder and laid her chin upon her head. “Shh,” she told her, “it’s okay dear. It’s like what you say for me: that’s not the mare you want to be.”
“No.” whined Pinkie as they clung to each other, that crushed black velvet crinkling under her desperate hooves. “I know you take me seriously. You’re one of the only people who ever did.”
As they floated across the air like that, Luna could feel her heart aching. “And you’re one of the first people to make me believe I really could be something better than my past.”
Then it was Pinkie’s turn to let a bitter laugh escape her. “Maybe Rainbow’s right. We’re both awful in our own special ways. We’re both tired of the way people look at us. We…”
Luna waited for some finished thought that never came. So she kissed the top of Pinkie’s head and told her: “Then I’m glad you’re awful too.”
“Snrk.” Pinkie snickered and looked up at her as she wiped away at her cheeks. “Hey, c’mon now, you’re not supposed to agree to that part.”
Luna’s grin was wry. “Then don’t word it so. But oh how catty we two can be.” Pinkie giggled in her hold. “We can be so snide and snarky, too. A right pair of jesters, we; you with your quick wit, and mine dry.”
“Well,” mused Pinkie, “then I guess I’m glad you’re awful too, and that we got to be awful together.”
She saw that smile fading and Luna knew she’d spotted the white starry eyes appearing in the dark above them, watching and waiting for this vile display to be over surely. She sighed and tried to keep her attention just a little longer. “The only thing that will be better is when we meet again, we may try to shed our old awful skins and be not the mares we were, but the mares we want to be. And… I look forward to making that attempt. With you, of course. If you’d still have me.”
Pinkie practically scoffed. “I should be saying that to you. I…” Her gaze faltered. “I haven’t been fighting this as much as I should, huh? I let the nasty feelings eat me up like—like… like me at a slice of cake.”
“To be fair, cake is delicious. I’m especially fond of chocolate.” When that failed to lift her spirits, Luna pulled her a little closer. Their chests pressed in together and she hoped that Pinkie felt her heart thrumming for her. “You’ve tried, though, and I respect that. It can be so difficult. But still you put in the effort. I love that about you—how tenacious you are when you’ve set your mind to something, even as the rest of the world tells you it’s foolish.”
Pinkie’s eyelashes fluttered like soft, delicate butterfly wings. She reached her hoof up and cupped one cheek. Rising upon her hindlegs a tiny bit, she reared until their lips were but inches apart. Oh how easy it would be to steal a kiss. But in her thumping heart of hearts, she felt she hadn’t earned it. Instead, her lips quavered into a frown and she told her: “I’m so, so sorry I stabbed you.”
Luna’s breath briefly caught in her throat. It was no small part of her that wanted to silence her fretting with a kiss. In truth, she didn’t even remember that. Though it certainly explained how she ended up dreaming again so soon. Oh well. she thought. At least it’s a pleasant dream this time.
More stars opened into white eyes and light began to wash away the darkness. Their time was coming to an end. Luna told her: “It’s quite alright. I’ll make sure to live so I can find you again, and you can make it up to me then.”
“I promise you I will.” said Pinkie as the light washed over them. “I promise… I love you.”
Luna thankfully rejoined the land of the living with tangerine streaks bleeding across the guest room she’d slept in the prior night. It was all too weak of an attempt at rising, but even that proved too painful. Instead, she glanced to the window to see evening rapidly approaching. It seemed as though she’d failed Pinkie. Something she quietly swore wouldn’t happen again.
Realizing at last there was some sort of weight upon her stomach, Luna glanced down to find her sister, dozing awkwardly between a chair and the edge of her bed. Her head had slumped onto her belly when she’d finally given into exhaustion. But Luna found she couldn’t blame her. At least it wasn’t her chest, the sides of which she was in no rush to examine beneath these now—in all likeliness—ruined sheets.
One navy hoof left the sheets behind to rest upon her slumbering sister’s head. It had been a long, long time since she’d seen her looking so vulnerable. And it had been even longer since she felt her so close to her. She brushed some of her mane aside to see those resting eyes.
Luna glanced out the window to watch the clouds roll by, listlessly, lazily slow. They were warmly wrapped in shades of orange, yellow, pink, and purple. What a lovely sight. There they stayed, just like that for what felt like long hours. It was almost peaceful.
Come evening, Luna was sitting up stiffly against a pile of pillows, steadily picking at a dinner she thought was far too nice in quality considering how hard she’d failed those she cared about that day. But hunger would not allow her to deny just about anything to eat at that point. That’s when a knock came upon the door to the guestroom she worried she’d be occupying for far longer than she wanted. Chewing it up as fast as she could, she gulped it down and said: “C-come in.”
Princess Twilight poked her head in. “Sorry to disturb your much needed bedrest, Luna.”
Luna gingerly placed the tray further down her lap, mindful of the stitches tugging at her ribs. “No, no, please do come in. I’ve been meaning to come and find you. My sister tells me you got Sunset and I out of there, despite your injured leg. So I really need to thank you.”
Twilight limped in, her sprained hoof from where Pinkie had twisted it round too hard in a sling by her chest. “What can I say,” she said with an abashed chuckle, “your plan was a good one.”
“Fat lot of good it did us.” Luna’s eyes rolled so hard, they might well go tumbling out of her skull. “Really, though, you did excellently. You were a lifesaver today, and shall have my eternal gratitude henceforth.”
Twilight’s weak smile grew a little stronger. “Well. With commiseration out of the way, do you think you’d be up to some company?”
Luna blinked at her a moment, twiddling her hooves. “Erm. I suppose? Who’s, ah, who’s come to pay me a visit?”
The princess leaned back through the door frame and called out to them before quickly making way. Fluttershy was first through the door, looking on the verge of breaking down weeping at any given moment. She rushed to Luna’s bedside, bemoaning: “I’m so glad you’re okay! But I’m also still so cross with you!”
Luna grimaced, watching her tremble between concern and indignation. “I know, dear. I’m sorry.”
Rainbow had come in behind her, quickly finding a corner to brood in, hooves crossing as she scowled at Luna. Next was Applejack, hat in her hoof, followed by Rarity. Luna’s mouth went slightly agape when she saw Rarity wearing that sword. She swallowed thickly, looking at the consternated faces around her. Like Fluttershy, doubtless, they were upset, both with and over her. “Well. Hello, everypony. I am… sorry we have to meet like this.”
Applejack held her hat to her chest. “I was right shaken when Ruby told me what happened. We…” She looked around at her friends. “Well, despite everything, some of us figured we’d best come pay a visit.”
“S-so,” added Rarity, her lip quivering, “you’d best recover from this so we won’t feel bad being cross with you as Fluttershy said. I-I mean that, missy.”
Rainbow cleared her throat. The others looked over to her. “Yeah. Uh. It’d be great if I could stop getting mad at my friends only to have them go off and get themselves into danger, or whatever.” She felt at the back of her neck, finding something far more interesting about the floor than the weak alicorn before her. “But. Yeah. I’m happy you’re in one piece. I guess.”
Luna sniffled. It was about as tender and heartfelt as she expected she’d typically get out of Rainbow, even in better circumstances. “You needn’t worry about me, girls. I’ve survived worse than dagger wounds.”
The others looked at those bandages, unable to ignore how fresh they were. Fluttershy reached out, hoof hovering above one. The imagery of what Luna had told her about her past flashed in her mind, and she sucked air through her teeth, cringing away. “We don’t… have to hear about all that again.”
Applejack, meanwhile, looked her up and down, less convinced. “Really? ‘Cause right now, you’re lookin’ a bit on the lucky side to be alive.” She turned and bowed to Twilight. “Thanks for havin’ her back, by the way, your majesty.”
“O-oh, my pleasure.” said Twilight sheepishly.
Luna laughed rather smugly. Then the air of confidence faded. “Ow.” She gripped at her side. “Okay, but listen here. Pinkie had me right where she wanted. She could have punctured my lungs and left me guttering for breath.”
Fluttershy winced. “Could we not with such detail?”
“Sorry dear.” said Luna, patting her shoulder. “Either way, I’d say it proves me right. Pinkie’s still in there, holding this thing back from doing worse. She’s…” Her voice faltered, recalling their brief dance through that sweetest of dreams. “She’s so much tougher than any of us give her credit for.”
“I think I have to concur.” said Twilight. She showed the girls her sling. “I foolishly let my guard down, and she could have easily done a lot worse to my leg with that chance. She also could have gotten me instead of Luna. What villain gives up a chance at taking out a princess?”
They mumbled and muttered. Rainbow spoke out. “That’s all good and well. She’s still in there, great. But your shot to drag her out went up and smoke, so…” She looked around at the disappointed faces. Clearly they felt this was an inappropriate time to lay it on so bluntly. Shaking it off, she found she didn’t care. “Look. I am glad you’re okay, Luna. But I wanna know if you have another plan, here. Because I’m still worried about my other best friend, okay?”
Luna nodded, almost sagely so. “That’s more than fair, Rainbow. I also appreciate your concern—moon above knows I don’t deserve it.”
“I’ll say.” added Rainbow, even as Fluttershy shot her a vicious glare.
“But,” continued Luna unimpeded, “as it just so happens, I do have another plan. One that will require all hooves on deck. No more leaving my friends behind, this I swear.” She looked around at the curious looks on their faces. Her own expression was steadily becoming a touch more excited by the moment. “I’ll also need the assistance of Trixie, Gilda, Galahad, and any others we can find. It’s going to be big.”
Author's Note
Hugely massive Applejack voice: "I hope y'all are prepared for an unforgettable luncheon."
Apparently I seem to really enjoy writing characters just sorta hanging out, eating and chatting. Also I know I speedran right past how long it took the CMC to get on better terms with Diamond and Silver. But I thought it was cuter this way. Also it was just funny in my head imagining all it took was playful bickering over classic "who'd win in a fight" to just move beyond the bad blood.
Part 19: What friends are for.
Darkness surrounded Rainbow Dash on all sides. Yet on she flew, rapidly throwing her hooves out in a rolling series of beating motions, hanging and angling into a leftward, spiralling flightpath. As her hooves struck out against the darkness itself, it receded, red charging sparks arcing between her and the black fluff. As she rose, her spiral shortened, and she finally escaped the darkness for fading lavender twilight hues above.
Rainbow hovered above the stormcloud to look it over in the fading light of dawn, hooves on her hips. It rumbled as if on command, little flashes of red light poking between the lumps of dark fluff. She rubbed her chin, thinking she must have gone a touch too fast, misting some of the cloud up. But it was otherwise a harmless light phenomenon, so she dusted her hooves and called it a job well done.
She lounged back in a lazy backstroke with an air of easiness. Somehow, she felt as though she’d really needed that. And though she was proud of her speed and agility, sometimes she surprised even herself how quickly she could get something done. Maybe it was just how worked up she’d been lately, and how much she needed to get that out of her system. Either way, she felt plenty good as the sun peeked over the distant treeline, warming her cheeks.
“Hey Rainbow, is that you?” came a voice far below. Way down in the village outskirts, Rainbow could just make out a tiny orange figure. And though she was still on the job, Dash also figured she had just completed an hour’s work in thirty minutes. So where was the harm?
She sailed gently down, laying her hooves upon the cobbles with a soft click. Donning a warm smile for the friendly face looking up, she said: “Heya, Scoots. Shouldn’t you be heading to school?”
Scootaloo waved her off, unbothered. “Eh, I’ve got plenty of time.” She confidently pat the handlebars of her scooter, adding: “I can move pretty fast once I get going.”
Rainbow snickered before reaching out and clicking together the loose chinstraps of her helmet. “Hey that’s great, just stay safe, okay?”
Feeling at the clip under her chin, Scootaloo pouted somewhat. “Aw, c’mon, I was fiiiine.”
“Hey now,” chided Rainbow gently, “ya think I got as good a flier as I am without some proper safety when I was younger?” When Scootaloo grumbled, she added: “Trust me, I didn’t.”
“Fine.” huffed Scootaloo in defeat, leaving the helmet attached. Rainbow reached out and playfully tussled the bit of her reddish violet mane that stuck out.
“Anyhow, I’m betting you didn’t come to see the coolest gal in Ponyville for safety advice.” She leaned to one side and casually crossed her ankles one over the other. “So what’s up?”
“Yeah I was just wondering. I hate to bother you, but…” Scootaloo’s mouth pulled to one side. “Is… Luna gonna be okay?”
Rainbow Dash nearly stumbled, far less casually. Catching herself, she cleared her throat. “Ah-ahem. Uh, yeah, sure, why shouldn’t she be, little dude?”
“Don’t baby me on this.” harrumphed Scootaloo. She sat down on the base of her scooter and crossed her hooves. “The way you guys hurried off to see her yesterday, and… and I saw Applebloom earlier, she was real shaken up by what her sister told her.”
Rainbow scrunched up her face and ran her hoof down it. Of course miss Honesty wouldn’t lie to her little sis. “What, uh, did she say, exactly?”
“Th-that she got hurt real bad in her last fight against the Pink Shadow.” Scootaloo shook her head. “We were just having fun, thinking about who’d win in a fight, but…”
A little relief found Dash. At least Applejack had spared her the gruesome details. She thought again about the bandages she saw, trying not to imagine what lie beneath them. Gulping it down, she sat next to Scootaloo and placed a gentle hoof across the back of her shoulders. “Let’s calm it down a touch. Look, fighting can be kinda fun sometimes; with proper safety and knowing when to stop, of course! And arguing over who’d take home the bragging rights in one can be too. None of this you and your pals’ fault, okay?”
Scootaloo didn’t respond, but scuffed her hoof along the ground.
Wincing, Rainbow took a breath and tried to think. She’d seen Rarity and Applejack in action. Surely she could do the whole big sister routine like them. “Look, kiddo. It is okay to have your fun. Ya just gotta remember now and again that it can be a big scary world out there, and like… sometimes it’s time to stop playing around and get serious.”
When Rainbow pat her on the back, Scootaloo pulled her hooves off the ground and hugged her knees. “I guess that makes sense.” Looking up at her, she added: “But… give it to me straight, Dash. Luna’s okay, right?”
“Woof.” said Rainbow, looking away from those big purple eyes. Her stomach was tight. “I’m not gonna lie to you, Scoots. AJ would kick my flank if I did. She wasn’t looking so hot when I saw her.”
Scootaloo’s brow pinched in, nervous and apprehensive. It eased when Rainbow flashed her a smile.
“But hey, she’s a rough, tough warrior chick. She’s been doing this kinda thing long before any of us were even born. So I know she’s gonna make it and return to kick some major tail.” She gave Scootaloo a very churlish wink.
Scootaloo reached up and bopped her shoulder. She might have giggled at Rainbow’s feigned display of great pain from it, had other things not been keeping her mood down. “Hey, c’mon, don’t scare me like that. Nightmare Night season is over.”
“Nightmare Night is the best holiday though, so that season is forever in here.” Rainbow poked her chest, relaxing a deal when Scootaloo finally gave a chuckle. They sat back, both relaxing a moment. Rainbow thought: Maybe this big sister thing isn’t so bad.
“So.” said Scootaloo breaking the peaceful quiet. She looked back up at Dash. “What about you?”
She gave the filly a nonplussed look, wondering if she was about to eat her words. “How d’ya mean?”
“Do you…” hesitated Scootaloo, “like…”
Rainbow pulled her a little closer by her shoulder. “Scoots, I want you to know you can always be real with me, okay? You’re my little buddy, and I’m your big pal. I don’t ever want you to be afraid to speak your mind.”
Scootaloo nodded slowly. She reached up and placed a hoof on Rainbow’s shoulder. “You don’t really hate Luna, do you?”
“Ah.” said Rainbow flatly. Displeasure stretched across her face. “Did Applejack also mention that in front of her little sis?”
“Bloom said AJ thinks you’re like, super upset with her. And I don’t get it.” Scootaloo’s eyes were wide with confusion and concern in equal measure.
Rainbow groaned but tried to take a breath and let it go. “It’s, well, like… super complicated adult type feelings. It’d hard to explain, kiddo.”
Scootaloo grimaced. “But you just said I could be real with you. So… be real with me back. Please, I just wanna understand why the two mares I look up to most are fighting.”
Rainbow nearly bounced in startled surprise. Looking back down at her, she asked: “You really look up to me that much?”
“Duh.” Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “You’re only the coolest flyer in all of Ponyville. Probably in all Equestria even.”
Rainbow started to say how it made sense she looked up to Luna. And not just because she was so tall. But then she thought against it, not really wanting to sing her praises. After a moment’s hesitation, however, she decided to not be petty. For Scootaloo’s sake, of course.
“I think I can understand looking up to Luna.” said Rainbow reluctantly.
“She is very tall, yes.” interrupted Scootaloo, nodding sagely.
Dash gave her an incredulous grin. “She’s big, yes, and strong. And really collected most of the time; cool in her own weird way.” She tussled Scootaloo’s hair a little once more. “But looking up to me? That really does mean a lot to hear, especially from somepony cool as you. So thanks for that, squirt.”
“No prob.” said Scootaloo. Then she urged her to go on. “So why’re you mad at her?”
Rainbow scratched under her chin and looked skyward. Maybe if she didn’t have to face her, it wouldn’t be so difficult to come right out and say it. “Okay, well… see, I was really upset about Pinkie disappearing. And maybe it was foolish of me, but I sorta blamed myself, ya know? We went to a concert together that night, but I lost track of her.”
“O-oh.” said Scootaloo, likely hearing these details of the story for the first time. Her ears folded back.
Dash’s gaze continued to wander across the skies above as she went on. “Turns out, a couple nights into her being missing, Luna got it in her head that this piece of Nightmare Moon was what took her. And she ended up being right.”
“That’s… not really her fault, is it? She wouldn’t do that—not on purpose, right?”
“Whoa, whoa,” said Dash, waving her hoof to try and dismiss such a notion, “of course not. Luna isn’t Moon anymore, she didn’t orchestrate any evil plans here.” She flexed her hoof. “The thing I’m upset about is she knew this… Nightmare piece thing was around for a while. And she had that idea it was behind Pinkie’s disappearance. And, like… she didn’t tell us. Any of us, about any of it. And… we’re her friends, ya know?”
Scootaloo sat with that a moment. It was like some big heavy object had suddenly been upended and landed right in her lap. She wasn’t fully sure what to do with it. Part of her regretted opening this can of worms. “But… why would she do that?”
Rainbow’s mouth pulled tight to one side. “I mean… if I had to guess, maybe she still has it in her head that she’s a total lone wolf bada—” She paused, remembering she was speaking with a child. “I mean, b-bad to the bone warrior, and that, like, in some weird way she thought she was protecting us. Like, if she solved it herself right away, it wouldn’t hurt any of us.”
It took a moment. But eventually Scootaloo gave a nod, thinking she understood. “And… that didn’t happen, did it?”
“Definitely not how she probably saw it going down in her head.” Thinking on it, Rainbow reached into the pocket of her weather team vest. She produced a necklace with a red lightning bolt. “And she’s gotta understand. We aren’t just mundane everyday ponies that can’t help her. We’re the Elements of Harmony.” She pawed back the trinket, rolling her eyes. “And, well, her friends too. That’s sorta, like, the way more important thing I’m trying to teach here. That we’re friends, and friends should have each other’s backs.”
Scootaloo couldn’t help but laugh as Rainbow got more animated, motioning as though she were placing the concepts physically before her. “Don’t worry, I think I got it.”
“Good, ‘cause I don’t wanna have to repeat mys—” Rainbow stopped talking when she felt little hooves wrap around her in a tight hug. After a moment’s hesitation, she hugged back. Hugs were pretty nice, after all.
“Thanks for talking to me, Rainbow.” said Scootaloo as they parted.
“Anytime.” Rainbow told her warmly.
A lanky pegasus stallion with a purple coat set down beside them, shoving his wavy mane of stormy gray to one side. “Catch ya goofing off again, did I?”
“Heya, Even.” said Dash with a wry grin. She knew of course knew his full name; it was, however, a mouthful. ‘Even’ was easier to call out over the high winds. He also went by Ces, but only his closest friends got to call him that. “Sorry ‘bout this, just seeing a family friend off to school.”
He waved it off, his starry eyes crinkling with a crooked smile. “Aw, you know I’m just messing with you. Just saw you’re already done with this afternoon’s stormcloud, so no harm.” Leaning in, he asked: “Didn’t know you had a niece, though. Wanna introduce me?”
“Niece?” asked Scootaloo. She turned her confused face up to Dash next. “Family friend?”
Lips pursed in thought, Rainbow nodded and said: “I mean, sure. AJ’s sorta like a sister to me, or close cousin I guess, and you’re one of her little sister’s best pals. So I’m pretty sure that makes you like an honorary niece, or little sis, or whatever.”
Scootaloo’s eyes lit up with a loud gasp. “Does this mean I can go with Bloom and Sweetie on their sisterhood summer camp trip next year?”
Rainbow blinked a moment. Then she smiled, slowly nodding. “Ya know what? Yeah. Sure.” Gesturing up at the waiting pegasus, she added: “Anyway, Scoots, this is the best weather supervisor basically ever, Calm Evening Skies. We call him ‘Even’ for short.”
“Oh stoppit, you’re embarrassing me.” chuckled Even.
“And Even, this is my honorary little sis, Scootaloo.”
Scootaloo announced: “This is like, the coolest day of my life.”
Rainbow chuckled. “Cooler than when you got to meet Luna? I’m cooler than a centuries old wizard warrior?”
Shrugging, Scootaloo told her: “I’m not her honorary sis, so, nah.”
“Oh,” said Even, his face lighting up as he pushed his wavy hair aside again, “speaking of, I met her sister once. The queen even signed my favorite shirt.”
Unconvinced to this day, Rainbow chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Again with this, Even? Nopony believes the queen just randomly appeared right next to you on a summer’s day.”
“But why would I lie about that?” he asked, chagrined but not quite frustrated. “The whole weather team thinks I’d forge her signature with a pen I stole? C’moooon.”
As Rainbow leaned back to have a laugh with him, she again felt the powerful charm she held. Looking back down at it, it sparkled just like the odd lightning she’d given to the stormcloud. Her laughter faltered and her mouth went tight. Looking up, she saw the horizon, beyond which lie the capital. A train ride would take an hour. She could easily get that down to thirty minutes while still pacing herself. Maybe twenty if she didn’t.
“Say,” she said at last, meeting Even’s starry eyes, “speaking of family and friend stuff, I think there’s something I should go take care of. Mind if I go ahead and take my lunch hour?”
He paused to consider her. “Sure, Dash, I don’t see why not.”
She bit her lip and amended: “It, uh, could take a little while. There’s a chance I’d be coming back late. B-but I’ll gladly stay late to make up for it.”
He smiled at her. “Hey, as long as everything gets done on time, I won’t make you stay. And knowing you, it will.”
Pride filled her chest as he shot her a wink. She stood and shook his hoof. “Thanks, Even, you really are the best.”
After their hooves parted, he leaned down to Scootaloo’s level. “Let this be a lesson, kiddo. If you get your work done early, you can earn more time to goof off.”
Smirking, Rainbow shook her head. “Yeah I don’t really think that’s the best lesson here.”
He shrugged playfully at her. Leaning his head to one side, his stormy hair fell back across his face as he added: “Hey, if it’s not, that’s what school is for.”
“Hey, speaking of, you’d better get going, Scoots.” Rainbow nodded down the street. “Don’t wanna be late.”
“Okay, okay.” mewled Scootaloo as she took hold of her scooter and got ready to head off. “Thanks again for chatting with me, Dash. Oh, and it was nice meeting you, mister Even Skies.”
“See you round.” Rainbow gave her a wave, then took off in the opposite direction. The filly and stallion both stood there, awestruck as rings of air violently parted for her as she picked up speed.
Scootaloo let out an impressed whistle. Chuckling, Even said: “Yep. She sure is something.”
Rainbow Dash threw all her limbs out at her sides to catch as much air as possible and slow herself way down. Her feathers rippled against the onrushing wind as she began to sink, hooves gently skimming the clouds just beneath her. Once she felt she’d lost enough velocity, she dipped her whole body around and dove right through the cloud layer. The rush of whites and light grays parted to reveal Canterlot castle.
The golden bulb domes topping certain towers shone brightly as she gently descended toward the grand structure. How many times had she been here? In the previous life she knew, Rainbow Dash would likely never have chanced a visit. To the capital itself, certainly. But the castle itself? It never would have occurred to her before Luna came into her life.
She found herself wondering how many sieges that navy alicorn had overseen from these very walls. Fluttershy had spoken a little of the dreary, sleep deprived mare who couldn’t help spilling her grizzly guts.
As she got properly within its walls, a pair of pegasus guards rose to meet her. She could tell right away the burly duo were somewhat on edge. The first of the two to approach tried to be as calm and polite as he could, telling her: “We’re sorry, ma’am, but castle airspace is off limits at the moment. We’re gonna have to ask you to land outside castle grounds and petition for entry there.”
“Hey, I get it, castle guard is probably nervous because of the whole Pink Nightmare Shadow situation, or whatever they’re calling her.” Rainbow presented her Element. “But as you can see, I’m here on totally official Element of Harmony business.”
One shared a quick look with the other before the second said: “Could be a fake. Meaning you no offense.”
Her jaw hung open and she blinked slowly. “Fake. I would go to all the trouble of creating a fake magic rock just to—okay, nevermind, look, I’m kinda in a bit of a hurry here, and you’re wasting my lunch break.”
The first guard bumped the other on the shoulder. “Actually, yeah, what do you mean fake? Nightmare doesn’t need to do that, she disguised herself as a training dummy; she has full illusory capability.”
“It was,” said the second, raising his hooves with the opener, then lowering them even as they ignored Rainbow smacking her forehead, “implied. I implied that the fake stone was a part of the illusion, just like that out of regulation weather team vest.”
The first one nodded, hoof to his chin as he considered her. “Yeah, now that you mention it, I don’t see how she’s going to fool anypony with that.”
Rainbow’s eyes narrowed like a predator’s jaws set to gnashing. “Out of regulation? It’s a Ponyville team vest. And Equestrian weather team regulation, section 35, item number 5 dictates that a team vest needn’t be yellow, so long as it’s a high visibility hue, atypical of the morning sky.” She yanked on the neon bright vinyl material. “This is clearly a high vis shade of green, my guy.”
Pursing his lips, the second one hmm’d with thought. “Nah,” he decided, actually, “that’s too pastel. It’ll get washed out against a cloudy backdrop in a golden horizon scenario. It’s outta regulation.”
“Puh,” stammered Rainbow Dash, practically offended at his all too nonchalant shrug, “pastel?! Get a good look at me, dude, are you really going to argue color theory when I’m the one with a color wheel in every mirror I look into? Get real.”
“Hey, hey, what’s going on up here?” came a new voice.
“Yeah, what’s the issue?” came a second.
“Petra, Nimbus.” The first guard referred to Rainbow Dash with a nod. “Got a mare flying over castle grounds unauthorized. We were trying to tell her she had to check in, because, obviously, she could be Nightmare in disguise.”
“Disguise?” scoffed the second one. “Don’t you mean ‘full illusory capability?’”
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry about that.” He rolled his eyes.
Petra shared a quick look with Nimbus before looking over to Rainbow and saying: “Hey Dash, do the thing real quick?”
“The… thing?” She watched Petra’s hoof point at the Element in her hoof. “Ohhhhhh.” When she put it on around her neck, the bolt shaped gem flashed red, as did her eyes.
Gesturing for the first two, Petra said: “There, see? Genuine article.”
He blinked at her. “Couldn’t that be a part of the illusion?”
Nimbus sidled up beside her partner and nudged her. “There’s a password, remember? We gave it to the Elem—”
“There’s a password.” proudly announced Petra, clearly remembering this all on her own. She opened the floor to Rainbow anew. “Miss Dash, if you would?”
It was with great exasperation Rainbow rolled her eyes. They certainly hadn’t approached her when deciding this code. But fine. For their sakes. “Ugh. The pass phrase is ‘true harmony.’”
“There you have it, gents.” Petra took Nimbus’s hoof and was already beginning to drift away. “That’s the real Element of Loyalty. Hope this cleared things up.”
The first guard looked at the second. “They tell you about a password?”
“Really more of a code phrase.” he replied at first before wincing at the unpleasant look he got. “But no.”
He looked Dash up and down, thinking of arguing further. In the end, he shrugged and gave it up. “It’d help me do my job if I was better informed. But fine, if something happens we can blame it on the queen’s favorite pets for letting her in.”
Rainbow started to rebuke him with further snide remarks in kind, but bit her tongue. She took a cooling breath of that crisp autumn air and instead told him: “Look bud, I know how that feels, not knowing something you probably should. No hard feelings.”
He paused as he and his partner made to return to their patrol. His face was stern, not wanting to yield even if part of him felt he should. “Hmm… same to you.”
Hardly did Rainbow want to go through that whole rigmarole again. As such, she decided a window might be the best route. Finding the section of castle she recalled, she began racing by the windows. Skidding to a stop, she pulled back around when she found it. Peering in, there sat Luna. Rainbow couldn’t help arching her brow when she spied what looked like a very pretty griffin chatting her ear off and changing her bandages.
Taking a deep breath, she tapped the pane. Luna whirled around to look at the window, then clearly regretted that, judging by her wincing face and how she gripped at the exposed stitches. Rainbow grimaced, but breathed a little easier when her magic grip opened up to her.
“Rainbow.” said Luna with surprise trilling her voice. She was trying to steady her breathing to appease the stitches she’d just pulled on by accident. Her magic grip pulled on her bedsheet, hoping to hide just in case her flesh decided to weep again. “This is certainly a surprise. Er, ahem, I—the password, if you please. Don’t want Atavia worrying.”
“True harmony.” she repeated as the window closed off the cool breeze behind her. “And it’s really more of a code phrase. Ya know, since there’s two words.”
“You must be Rainbow Dash.” said this pretty griffin lady, beaming even as she unrolled fresh gauze. “Luna has told me so much about you.”
Rainbow glanced over at Luna and asked: “Has she now?”
“Oh yes.” she replied, chipper, not picking up on any icy undertones. “How you’re the boldest, bravest member of the team, and that your agility is simply unmatched. She seems highly impressed with you.”
Rainbow didn’t look at the griffin prattling on; she looked at Luna with pleading eyes. The pale blue eyes meeting her own were full of sorrow and sincerity. Her mouth went tight and she turned to say: “Actually, speaking of, miss Atavia…” Her hoof went to the back of her neck as those aqua eyes and feathered brow went nonplussed. “I don’t mean to be rude, but this is kinda official Element of Harmony business. Mind if I borrow Luna for a minute? Alone?”
“Oh, certainly. Let me just get some fresh bandages on our dear and—”
“Atavia.” said Luna as gently as she could, gingerly taking the gauze roll from her with slow moving magic grips. “I can get these on. I’m very sorry, but if you’d please?”
She gave a couple slow blinks at Luna before the muscles beside her beak pulled up. The smile never reached her eyes, though, as she told her: “Alright, my lady. I understand.”
“It was, um… nice meeting you?” Rainbow felt terribly awkward, the feathers all along her wings feeling slightly just out of place as she watched Atavia rise and bow to the two of them.
“You as well, Rainbow.” She lingered by the door a moment yet, eyes holding upon Luna as her magic set the bandaging to covering her wounds. Then she was gone, closing the door gently behind her.
For some odd reason, Rainbow found herself letting go of a held breath. “Wow, Luna. A run in with nightingale syndrome? That a new experience for you?”
Luna tried not to whine as she taped off the gauze and set her sheets back down. She could feel a tiny bit of warmth and immediately regretted being so jumpy at something as banal as window tapping. “I… don’t know what that is. And I’m not sure I want to.”
Rainbow decided to answer her curiosity just the same. “Eh, knowing might help, since you’re a librarian; it happens in a few classic novels. It’s when a healer falls for their healee.”
“Ah.” Luna mused flatly. “Well, I’m afraid she’s not my healer. Besides, the poor thing was already infatuated with me before I was trapped in bed.”
“Wow.” Rainbow pursed her lips and nodded. Giving her a sly look, she said: “Guess some of that old charm works pretty nice.”
Luna’s hoof ran along the ridge of her nose. Her consternated eyes gawked up at the ceiling. “If I’m being perfectly honest, this has been rather frustrating.”
“She have it that bad?” asked Rainbow, equal parts churlish and sympathetic.
“It rather isn’t her.” said Luna with an air of defeat as she leaned back into the pillows stacked high against the head of the bed frame. “It took me all too long of a time to accept… this part of myself. And suddenly, now that I have, there have been just… so many ladies.” A dry laugh escaped her as she added: “It’s like they can smell it.”
The playful air Rainbow was putting on left her. She wasn’t sure whether she was green with envy, or if she felt weirdly sorry for her. “Things are, uh, probably pretty different from back in your time… I guess, so… good job?”
There came a shuffling noise as Luna’s head shook against the pillows. “That’s just it. I might have some small sense of pride in fetching so many… very lovely eyes, if I’m being honest. Except it never feels like they’re looking at me. Not really.”
Rainbow hesitated. She wasn’t terribly sure what to say to that. It didn’t help that she was still awkwardly standing in the middle of the room. So she made her way around the bed and took to the now emptied bedside chair. “Whaddya mean?”
Luna sighed, still gazing vacantly up at the ceiling. “All too often, those smitten with me see what I am, but not who I am. There is an idea of a Luna in their heads. Hero of myth fallen from grace. Returned home to save the land she once threatened. The powerful mage warrior, whose strong hooves can carry and save them. How they swoon over her.”
Rainbow looked at her, tight lipped. When Luna saw her consternated face, she smirked.
“You didn’t come here for sour romantics and commiseration. I’ll stop.”
Rainbow shook her head and held up her hooves. “No, wait, hang on. Sorry, I just wasn’t sure what to say. I actually…” She sat back down, a bit more relaxed in her shoulders. “I kinda appreciate this. You’re being really real with me right now. I was, uh, just talking to somepony earlier about how friends can do that for each other. Be really real, ya know?”
“Real.” repeated Luna. She tried to wrap her mind around Rainbow’s meaning. Was she not a real person? Or did she come off as inauthentic at times? Musing aloud, she said: “Perhaps there is a certain authenticity to shared vulnerability.”
“Yeah, exactly.” Rainbow motioned for her. “So if you wanna finish your thought, I’d be happy to hear it.”
Luna blinked at her a moment before looking straight ahead. “Well. That’s about it, really. I’ve found my heart belongs to the fairer sort, but so many of them seem to me to have shallow attractions for me in kind.” She shrugged. “Many, I imagine, still think of me as though I’m still royalty as well. I cannot help feeling it’s why Twilight or queen Atavia became so enamored with me so quickly.”
“Princess Twilight has a crush on you?” said Rainbow bouncing upright in her seat. Her shock only grew when she threw her gaze toward the door. “That was the griffin queen in here?!”
Luna couldn’t help but be amused as Rainbow stammered about how rude she must have come across to foreign royalty. When the poor thing wondered aloud if she’d be reprimanded for not having bowed or offered to kiss any rings, Luna calmly told her: “I’m sure it’s more than fine, Rainbow, don’t worry. She’s much too sweet to have a grudge over that.”
Rainbow peeked up from her mortified hooves. “A real sweetheart, eh?”
Luna’s gaze rolled away from her with a groan. She almost thought she’d take another stabbing than the coming interrogation. “Nothing untoward happened between us, I swear. The rumors floating through this castle—I-I turned her down.”
“Whoa, hang on.” Rainbow scooted her chair a little closer, regaining her churlish demeanor. “I was just messing with you, but now you’ve gotta spill.”
She somewhat snapped at her. “She knocked on my door that night after I humored her with a dance, now the entire staff, and castle guard, and even some of my own peers think something uncouth happened between us.” Her words dripped with ire. “Do you all really think me so shameless? So unable to simply not indulge myself?”
Rainbow reeled from her, wings bristling. She held up her hooves. “You’re right, I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to accuse you of anything.”
Luna gripped again at her sides. Getting worked up like that was not in her best interest. “A-and I’m sorry, that wasn’t meant for you—you’re just trying to gossip with me. It’s them I’m frustrated with. But…” She looked away. “Well, it wouldn’t have been right, so it honestly pains me that they think so little of me.”
She cocked her head at Luna. “Not right how exactly?”
“She was drunk for one thing.” Luna’s gaze slowly swiveled back towards her friend and compatriot. Even if things were unsteady between them at the moment, she still felt that way about her. “And woefully infatuated with a mare I’m not, for another.”
“Okay.” Rainbow nodded and crossed her hooves. “Ya just gotta let her down real easy like. Let her know she’s not your type.”
A bitter smile cracked Luna’s facade. “Hmph. She would be, under better circumstances. I do appreciate her sardonic wit.” She sighed, then added: “More importantly, however, my affections at the moment belong to another. I simply couldn’t spend the night with her if I couldn’t promise her more. That wouldn’t have been right.”
“Yeesh. I feel like I’ve walked into one of Rarity’s trashy romance novels.” She slumped before thinking she ought to amend that statement. “Except, obviously, you’re being, like, way more reasonable and mature.”
“Snrk.” Luna covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. “Well, thank you.”
Rainbow looked down at her hoof, hesitating. Then, she reached over and gently pat Luna on the shoulder. “And uh, thanks to you too. For being real with me.” Withdrawing the hoof, she ran it across the back of her neck. “You… still feel pretty strongly about Pinkie, though, huh? I mean, if a pretty number like that can’t take your mind off her.”
Luna nodded very slowly. “Things are certainly complicated between us, to say the least. But I still want to try again. She’s been… well, all of you girls really, you’ve all seen me for who I am and not what, like I said. I appreciate you all very much.”
“But you appreciate Pinkie more.” she said back. It wasn’t a question, merely an observation, and an invitation for her to continue if she liked. Rainbow’s leveled gaze was not pressing, but curious enough.
Luna couldn’t help but smile.
“That’s great.” Slowly but surely, Rainbow smiled back. She fidgeted her hooves together. “I meant what I said back there on Nightmare Night. About you two getting along so great. Even if I kinda said it in a really sour way.”
Luna’s smile faded.
“I kinda said some other things at the time. Some of which I regret.” She looked down at her hooves. “I still think I’m right to be mad at you, of course. But. I’m sorry for that bit about how I should never have trusted you. That was too far of me and just… really uncool.”
“Rainbow.” Luna reached out and placed a hoof on hers. “I’ve already long since forgiven that. I know all too well how pain can drive one to speak more venomously than they otherwise might. I’ve seen it on my fair share of battlefields.”
Rainbow balked at that. Grimacing, she told her: “I don’t really think that’s a great excuse, but okay.”
“Fair enough.” said Luna solemnly.
Rainbow placed a hoof over Luna’s. “Look, though. I was hurt. Not just my wing. Friends are…” she said, thinking back to her conversation with Scootaloo, “we’re supposed to have each other’s backs. And what you kept from us, it didn’t feel to me like you had ours. I know you thought you did, but…”
“You’re right. I thought I could keep you girls safe. I wanted to protect you, because you all mean so much to me.” Luna nodded her head slowly at her. “But keeping you in the dark clearly made things worse. Perhaps I too have struggled to pull my mind out of how I ought to act when I was still sitting royalty. How, when sitting over a people, we choose to leave out the frightening details, telling ourselves it was to their benefit.”
Rainbow stared at her, trying to understand.
“That’s not an excuse for my actions, merely an explanation.” She pat Rainbow’s hoof. “I want to leave that behind me, I really do. I want to do better by the ponies I care about most—and not just because you’ve joined me in my role as guardians.”
Rainbow felt at the necklace she was still wearing. Part of her felt like it still hadn’t quite sunk in how heavy it truly was. “Right.” she muttered. It grew quiet between them. So she made to fill the space. “I really shoulda had this conversation with you the day after. But… I was still pretty mad.”
“And I suppose I can’t blame you. But on whatever’s left of my good name, Rainbow, I promise you.” She nodded firmly. “I’ll never betray your trust again.”
“Every trouble, every danger.” spoke Rainbow, meeting her eyes. She lifted Luna’s hoof and clenched it between them with her own. “We face down together. As a team—as a family even.”
“Together every time, always to have each other’s backs.” Luna returned Rainbow’s eager, toothy grin. Then Rainbow’s faltered, replaced by trepidation.
“Okay, ‘family’ might have been a bit off there. I don’t think of some of the girls like that, exactly.”
Luna chuckled. “As friends then.”
“The sort who will grab each other out of freefall. Which, thanks for that, by the way. Shoulda already said that by now too.”
It was finally Luna’s turn to wear the sort of confident, playful grin she always saw Rainbow wearing. “Anytime. After all, what are friends for?”
Part 20: The winner takes it all.
“Are you sure you’re up to this?” asked Sunset. As she held Luna’s shoulder, she couldn’t help looking at the bandaging still taped to her sides. And even though Luna had told her to stop blaming herself, she could help holding onto the burden or responsibility just that little bit longer.
It had been a few days—not even a full week since needle and thread had been taken to Luna’s flesh, mending and binding it taut like a torn quilt. To convince her compatriot, Luna stretched herself left, then right. She bit back the pain and lied: “See? I feel no pain. I’m as good as I need to be, and we can’t give her more time to plan her next move against us.”
Sunset took a long breath and sighed. She glanced out over the acres bleeding orange with the fading sunlight. “I suppose an equally important aspect of patience means knowing when to dispense one’s wait for a golden opportunity and simply take one already given.”
Luna nodded. “Mm, I’d say so. A balance needs be struck, between waiting and seizing.”
“Are you trying to outdo me at waxing philosophical?” Turning back, Sunset raised a brow at her.
Luna looked almost surprised at that. “Here I thought I was musing with my peer.”
A little smile warmed her face a touch. Not that her coat needed help in that regard, especially not in the orange light of her namesake. “Well, I’m glad we got the opportunity to become peers. Though I wish I could share in your confidence for this new plan of yours.”
“I know it seems quite unorthodox.” Luna admitted, though in good humor even as she did so.
“To say the least of it.” Sunset’s expression was playful yet, but there was still that hint of wanting curiosity. She clearly had less faith, even as they were about to enact the plan.
“It’s like I said: she aims to cause as much mischief and drama as she can. More importantly, she needs to be in control every step of the way.” Luna thought back to Pinkie’s tantrum upon hearing about Gilda’s revelation.
Sunset pondered what was to come of the evening. “You do know if it doesn’t work, it will mean another fight.”
Luna looked her in the eyes. “But of course. No creature involved is unaware of that risk. And none of them refused to accept it.”
“Well. If nothing else, we’ll certainly have plenty of help this time if it comes to that.” Sunset tried to shrug with an air of ease. In reality, she couldn’t help remembering how vicious a fight the last one had seemed. Part of her wondered if Nightmare wasn’t upping the ante each time. That could spell disaster; one she knew Luna might never forgive herself for. For her sake, she whispered a silent prayer for the best.
Twilight appeared between them in a flash of magenta energy. “It’s almost time, girls.”
Stretching her limbs to limber up, Luna said: “This is it.”
Sunset stole one last look at the sling and the bandages. She gulped back her worst fears and rolled her neck and shoulders. “So it is. It’s finally here.”
Not wanting to be left out, Twilight also flexed and stretched her wings. With cheer in her voice, she told them: “Yeah, we’ve got this.”
Luna was more proud than she really should have been at how well she hid the pain. Not a single bead of cold sweat rolled across her brow as she donned a confident grin. “Let’s go save a very special pony.”
The sunlight was fading fast beyond the horizon. But the trees all around Sweet Apple Acres made it feel as though evening had already long since found the two mares casually strolling along one of its paths. They were a touch more layered against the now biting wind of mid fall, and leaned upon one another for warmth and comfort both.
Rarity sighed dreamily. “Isn’t this just lovely, darling?”
Applejack’s smile trembled and she hid it away with her hat. “It sure is mighty fine, dear. Why… I can’t think of a pony in the whole town I’d rather spend this time with. I mean, shucks, iffin’ you don’t mind my saying so, that is.”
“Mind? Hardly. I love when you find it in you to express yourself for me.” Rarity cooed, honey dripping off each word. Reaching up, she poked AJ’s hat aside and kissed her flushed cheek.
The farm mare’s chuckle was throaty, pleased, and nervous all at once. “Heh. Well. Gosh.”
“In fact…” began Rarity with no small amount of trepidation for what came next. She left Applejack’s shoulder and stepped ahead of her on the path. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
Applejack gulped. Much as she might well know what came next, it didn’t make her any less flustered to face it. “What’re you…”
“I have been long awaiting for the right moment, but it never seems to arrive.” Rarity propped herself down on one knee, hooves over her heart as AJ stammered and sputtered. “So I’ll make it the right moment. Applejack, sweet apple of my eye… won’t you make me the happiest mare in Ponyville and be mine, for now and always?”
All the air rushed out of Applejack. She thought herself prepared to face this, but how could she be? Gulping down her nerves, she shook in place and said: “Oh, wowzers, uh, that’s great—I don’t know what to say.”
“Oh but won’t you yes, darling?” Rarity reached out for her.
“Not so fast.” called a new voice. A pale reddish stallion entered the scene from stage left. “I’m afraid Applejack here has won the eyes of another. And I won’t stand for this union.”
“Calypso?” spat Rarity, seemingly flabbergasted.
When the love of her life shot Applejack a betrayed expression, all she had to say for herself was: “Uh. I mean. I like his singing voice?”
Rarity rose with a groan. Partially because her darling was a terrible liar. She tried to move on before it became too apparent, throwing open her shawl to reveal the handle of her blade. “The way I see it, there’s only one method by which we can be settled. The old fashioned way.”
Calypso threw one hoof to his throat, as though already wounded. “But I am unarmed. You would strike a defenseless suitor?”
The blood red blade flashed out of its hilt, heeding the call of Rarity’s icy blue magic grip. The smirk shining in the growing dark suggested she was having perhaps too much fun with this. “Oh wouldn’t I?”
“Wait. Stop.” AJ tried halfheartedly as she watched Rarity begin to chase after him. She reached for the lasso she’d been keeping on her hip—just in case, clearly, as none of this was planned, obviously—but a heavy hoof weighed down upon her shoulder.
Big Mac was there when she turned, his face stony and stern. He was appalled. Something that was only expressed through a disapproving snort.
“Aw, but Big Mac.” she pleaded.
“Nope.” he said, throwing his indignant nose up.
She cleared her throat and tried to recall what she was supposed to say. He gestured for her to keep going and she spat out: “R-right, well, you can’t mean to take over the farm from me just ‘cause of one little moment of weakness.”
“Yup.” he said, marking it with a stomp of his hoof.
“Well them’s fighting words, brother. Words I’m gonna make you eat.” She threw her hat aside first, then threw herself at him. The two siblings went rolling across the dust, throwing weak jabs at one another as they bickered, seemingly forgetting about Rarity still jogging along and trying to jab Calypso.
Rarity was giggling. She really was enjoying this too much. Calypso had half a mind to say so.
Suddenly, Gilda and Fluttershy frolicked onto the scene, duly ignoring the sprawling brawls taking place. They giggled giddily, Gilda’s claw holding her hoof tenderly. Pausing, they met eye to eye, and Fluttershy tried her best to swoon. “Oh, Gilda. I think I’ve fallen madly in love with the kind and gentle griffin you’ve become. I do so hope you feel the same.”
“I do.” Gilda proudly announced with a nod. “You’ve made me into the better person I am, and I can’t thank you enough.”
“Oh Gilda.” repeated Fluttershy as they drew closer together. “I hate to do this to Rainbow Dash, but you’re just so lovely.”
Gilda cupped her cheek and went in for a kiss. “She doesn’t need to know.”
Just then, as if on cue, Rainbow flew overhead in time to see snout and beak meeting. “Whoa! My BFF from high school, and my sweetheart from… well, also from high school? Together? Behind my back? I totally did not see this coming, dudes.”
Gilda tried very hard not to snicker as Rainbow came in for a landing nearby. It was a terrible line read. “Give it up, Dash. She’s her own mare, and she’s made her choice.”
“Well,” offered Fluttershy quietly, “there is always a third option. I do have two hooves to hold.” The two of them snapped their gaze back at her and she laughed shyly, hiding her blushing face behind her long pink locks.
“Girl.” hissed Gilda in a whisper. “That wasn’t in the script.”
“I’m improvising.” Fluttershy whispered back. It was easy for her to be hushed, given how soft spoken she tended to be anyway. “I figured some genuine reactions might help sell the effect, and the looks on your faces.”
Gilda watched her try her best not to laugh at them, tears forming at the corners of her scrunched up eyes. Amused herself, she told her: “I had no idea you were so funny.”
Rainbow cleared her throat to keep things moving. Though, not before stealing a glance at the bickering ponies, quietly hoping none of them heard that over there. “Well. Uh. I’m not… I mean I don’t… That is to say it’s not that I don’t—I just never thought about…”
Glancing over at Rainbow, Gilda whispered: “I think you broke her.”
“Wait, Cherry Bomb, come back.” came new voices. A yellow and red pegasus with dwarfism entered, followed by a maroon mare, and two gray unicorns of wildly different proportions and demeanors.
“We’re not bandmates anymore, you don’t get to call my stage name.” Cherry Pit shouted back at them. She turned back around with an overly proud harrumph, dark red hair flying to one side. “Also, I’m running off with our lyricist’s girl. Send my regards to my now ex boyfriend.”
“Wait, what?” Hope stopped chasing after her and screwed her face up.
When her sister looked to her for answers, Red-Heart shrugged as far as her shoulders could manage. “Hey, I didn’t know she was into chicks. Otherwise I mighta—okay, wait, not the time.”
“You’re darn right it’s not the time.” said Onyx, face bizarrely distorted in the worst attempt at a scowl either of them had ever seen. “I love ya, Red, but I seriously can’t believe you sometimes. Maybe it’s best that Lined Lips came to an end.”
“Oh man.” bemoaned Red. She leaned on Hope as they watched Ruby run out onto the path and hug Cherry. “At least my sister and I are still cool and can totally cry on each other’s shoulders in all this. Right?”
Hope rolled her eyes and pushed Red off of her. “Actually, Red, the Heart sisters are no more. I found out our parents adopted me and kept it from us this whole time.”
“What?” cried out Red, shoving her mess of black hair up to really see the truth on her face. She found said truth lacking and thanked her lucky stars her sister was a better poet than she was an actor. Covering her mouth allowed to pass her laughter off as the beginnings of a sob fest. “Say it ain’t so, you were my favorite sister.”
Marble approached Ruby and Cherry’s embrace very stiffly. “Um.” she said. Her tone was flat and wildly unconvincing. “I don’t condone this. I’m. Not ready to let go of my… little girl?”
Ruby rolled her eyes. That much was earnest as it got, even if she couldn’t help smirking. “This is who I am, mother.”
“Yeah.” agreed Cherry, louder than her tiny body would imply. “Get used to it, mom in law.”
“Okay,” whispered Ruby, “let’s not lay it on too thick, there.”
“Sorry, chickadee, I don’t do anything halfway.” Cherry shrugged, woefully unbothered by the critique.
Minding none them, Trixie (the Great and Powerful) sauntered down the lane to where Applejack was still wrestling her brother, the two of them grunting this way and that. “Say, AJ, is this a bad time?”
Applejack pinned Mac and stared up at her, panting. “Uh. Obviously?”
“Hmm.” replied Trixie, moving right along anyway. “I did a little checking on my family tree, and it turns out we’re very decent cousins. So, seeing as how we’re family, can the Great and Powerful Trixie count on a room whenever she passes through Ponyville?”
Shoulders going slack, Applejack remembered to look at Trixie’s pack, where the covering lay intentionally astray to reveal a large red lump. She cleared her throat and pointed up at it. “Say, Trix? What’s that?”
A silvery brow arched up at her. “I didn’t realize we were on shortened nickname bases. Does this mean I get to call you AJ?”
“Don’t push it.” said Applejack with the greatest sincerity of anything she’d said thus far.
The beating of massive wings set the trees to bowing and bending all about them, silencing all the nearby bickering for a moment. A dragon of gilded scales set down, shimmering in the broken shafts of golden light barely peeking through the trees onto the chaotic scene. White hot embers danced across her razor rows of teeth as Galahad set her sights on Trixie. “You would think to steal my ruby heart a second time? When our mutual compatriot saw fit to have me spare you the first? Thou welp, thou’rt truly despicable!”
Trixie created a gaggle of illusory copies of herself to all run about, dodging large sets of shiny claws. Everyone around them seemingly forgot about them in an instant, going right back to their own little pockets of conflict. Voices picked up, louder, shriller, whichever came first, all vying to be heard over the increasing, ensuing ruckus. Louder and louder the scene grew until it was nothing but shouting over one another. It all quickly became too much for the unseen watcher to bear a moment longer.
On white wings she descended, appearing from the far horizon where the moon rose in the growing darkness. This was her domain, and they were making a sick mockery of it. Landing in the middle of the ugly melodrama, Pinkie screamed at the top of her lungs, a shrill, prolonged noise like a trilling brass horn commanding attention for one’s betters.
“Stooooooooooooooooooooooop!”
They did as she commanded, many doing so purely out of curiosity. For others, it was a morbid sight, how she trembled and panted in place. One could only imagine the horrible violent energies she’d be all too happy to summon.
“What is wrong with you all?!” demanded Pinkie. Her frowning mask threw her glowering gaze in an arc around her. “Is this some sad attempt at getting back at me over that play? Well, it’s awful.”
Ruby calmly took a step back with Cherry while Marble inched forward. The burly mare stood as sturdy as she could, hopefully ready at a moment’s notice to stop the Nightmare in her tracks.
Unaware, Pinkie spun about and one could almost swear her hair was fraying at the ends. Her accusatory hoof pointed with no small amount of spite towards one set of supposed newfound lovers, then the other. “A bunch of love triangles? Really? That’s so cliche.”
Next, she looked to the magician and dragon. “And you. Trixie, we already had this exact arc with you. A-and Galahad isn’t even in this story—what’s she doing here?” She knocked her hooves against her temples with a groan. “And family revelations? Are you kidding me?”
Gilda shifted uncomfortably. She’d been nervous around this mare even before she was possessed. Now she really was a scary sight. A cough escaped her beak, and that golden mask whirled around. Her wings reflexively flared. Mayyyybe, thought Gilda briefly, I should run away.
“And you.” she spat, venom and poison and toxin dripping off her words. “You liked getting into acting? Are you serious? You? Gilda the jock, Gilda the bully. Where did that even come from?” Pinkie took a deep, withering breath. “I-it doesn’t make any sense, it’s not your archetype at all!”
Rainbow bristled nearby where Gilda held Fluttershy shrinking back from Pinkie’s anger. Her mouth tightened before she decided she couldn’t let this go. “Yeah, well… guess she surprised you, huh?”
“Oh, shut up.” growled Pinkie, her hackles raised as though she’d pounce any second. Shuddering a moment later, however, her head sank. She felt at her forehead, how it ached. “Ugh, this is all so dumb. You can’t just… there’s been no build up, and…”
All stood and stared as she slumped over onto the ground, the sound rising up from her either frustration or pain; maybe even some combination. Then, a very funny thing happened: the coughs morphed and warped. One might think it the demon coming through. But no. She was laughing. Pinkie Pie, her mask smiling, clutched her aching sides as she rolled across her back and howled with bitter laughter.
“This is… so dumb!” she cackled. “Maybe you were right, Dashie—maybe I am crazy! I must have finally snapped if you guys think any of this was good drama!”
She was so busy laughing, she could do nothing about the lasso grabbing hold of her thigh. Applejack pulled on the rope, and the loop tightened. It was time to get her into position, though AJ couldn’t help but sigh, seeing her like this. And yet, just the same, it had to be done. She began to drag the manic mare along through the dirt.
“You’re joking.” said Pinkie, looking up at her, amused. “You are joking, right? I sent Luna back to you girls with a couple extra holes, and now you want to try me? Is that it, Applejack?”
Applejack quit dragging and snapped her lasso back with artful precision. She watched as Pinkie laid herself out in a playful pose and shook her head. “Nope. I just had to get you on your mark.”
“Wow, you even learned stage terms for all of this? That only makes it more insulting. You people really are the—hey what now?” Where her dragged body had disturbed the dust, she just then noticed glowing lines hidden just beneath a fresh layer of dirt. It was an arcane sigil. And she was dead center within it. By the time she turned about, accidentally rolling over in the process, several of the nearby unicorns were already tapping its edges to activate.
Nightmare and Pinkie howled two voices of distress and pain through the mouths of the pony and the mask she wore as she tried to throw herself skyward. An aural bubble sprang to life, its magical colors swirling in shades of aqua, blues, and magenta. Her head banged against the dome mere seconds after it formed, sending her crashing back into the dust. Standing, she gawked one direction, then gaped in another. Wings folding and unfolding, she brought forth all manner of melee weapons, and set to thrashing against her new prison with one after the other. Dagger, sword, axe, club, hammer—it was all to no avail.
She was trapped.
Three alicorns stepped onto the scene through the growing shadows that had hidden them away so strategically. Their faces wore looks of triumph, relief, and cold, calculated confidence. The one her gaze of raw hatred set upon, however, was Luna. Hers—so seemingly glad to see her—was the one that filled her with the most rage, all the cheers that this had worked falling away as far as she cared. It was her alone she had eyes for, as she huffed. How she hated her.
And yet, how she wanted to throw her hooves around Luna and thank her with a kiss.
Instead she said upon her arrival: “If you think this is over, you’re very sadly mistaken, my dear.”
Luna looked at her trembling form through the magic trap, eyes glinting with malice through the mask as she looked up from her slouched demeanor. She wanted to reach through and push the frayed locks to one side and tell her it was all going to be okay now. Instead, she said: “I doubt that, love. But we’ll see in just a moment.”
Applejack, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, and Rarity gathered round when Luna beckoned them forth. The rest were gingerly thanked for their parts, and asked to stand back. At Luna’s command, each Element of Harmony produced her respective necklace and donned it.
With a click, Luna’s eyes lit up. Her pupils widened out, blotting out the irises with inky, new moon darkness, before a white light took her pupils’ places. She felt strangely energized; despite having been here before, it still felt oddly new and exciting. Her fur stood ever so slightly on end as she reached her hooves out, saying: “Are we ready, girls?”
Fluttershy took a steadying breath as her pupils whited out, surrounded by a pink glow to match the butterfly shape at her throat. The world somehow seemed more lively around them—more vivid and saturated despite the fading light. She took Luna’s hoof and nodded. “I’m so ready for this to be all over. I’ve missed you, Pinkie.”
“Me too.” said Rainbow, taking Fluttershy’s other hoof. She placed her free one on the magic bubble, looking at the dejected figure within, her eyes filling with light and scarlet energies. “Pinks, I’m real sorry if I don’t always come off super respectful of you. But you’re one of my best pals, and I promise you I’ll try to do better. I guess a lot of us could stand to do better by each other—have each other’s backs, you know?”
“Indeed.” Rarity stood in beside Luna, taking her other hoof. Her sapphire eyes sparkled like a geode of amethyst set alight under the stars peeking out in the encroach of evening. Mane wavering like a rolling, regal sea, she said: “We’re here for you, Pinkie. Now and alway. You know you can always come to us for any need, any day of the week. We do so love you.”
The green of Applejack’s eyes gave way to orange, her fiery, self-assured spirit burning as she took Rarity’s other hoof. “It’s the honest to goodness truth, Pinkie. I’ve been so happy since you came into my life. You’re not just a barrel of fun on your own, you know how to make friends with everyone. Why…” She pressed her hoof against the shield, reaching out for her dear, dear friend. “I probably wouldn’t have half the friends I do if it weren’t for you. I love and appreciate you so much, it hurts.”
Pinkie was shrinking back from them, each new bout of compliments seemingly punching her down like a shower of arrows. She hid her masked face away from them, groaning, desperate for it all to stop. “Cut it out. You’re all so annoying. How can you ‘love’ or ‘appreciate’ me after what I’ve done? So spineless. You make me sick.”
Luna recognized that spite. She recalled a time it was bubbling up from her to hiss through gritted teeth. Shaking her head, she replied: “You’ve stumbled, yes. As have I. Recently, I even foolishly thought I had to face my problems alone.” A warm smile spread across her face as she glanced to one side, then the other. “But I’m not alone, and neither are you.”
Pinkie finally looked up at her. Luna was so beautiful and serene, as always. The tear shaped stone set in her mask flashed. “Well… maybe I should be. Wouldn’t you be better off? You’d already have made up with your sister, probably.”
Luna winced before opening her eyes up wide. “No. Our lives are better with you in it. Our mistakes can be made up for in time, but only if you’ll come back to us. So try, Pinkie. Please, for us.” She bit her lip when she saw the stone flash again. “For me.”
One hoof held the other back as Pinkie reached out to her. Her limbs trembled. She didn’t want to stand up, except that she did. So she pushed and stumbled and wobbled, slowly rising on shaking knees. Her hooves shuffled across the sigil that held her captive, it taking every ounce of sweat inducing concentration not to falter and eat dirt all over again. With a great wickering breath, she raised upon her hind legs and slammed her hooves against the barrier where Rainbow and Applejack’s pressed back.
Their spirits lifted as her stone lit up, and her eyes washed out with a pale blue glow. Each harmonious gem then reached out for the others, trying to meet in the middle. Twilight and Sunset lowered the shield so that they might, and sighed with immense relief as the six friends embraced in a hug.
It wasn’t over yet. Five friends held the sixth as she squirmed and writhed and tried to shed her shadow. They cheered her on, telling her she could do it, as the luminescence of their gems and eyes grew and grew. As the power swelled, the lot of them began to shudder just like her, while still calling out that they were there for her. “For now and always.”
“Heh,” said Pinkie suddenly, “you girls are so gullible.”
“Hey what now?” spoke Luna before feeling her body rocked back. Their hooves still together, the six of them formed a circle, seemingly with Pinkie pulling the strings now as the light between them all erupted skyward in a gout of blazing magic energies. She looked up in abject horror as the swirling rainbow pillar of light slowly arced back down. But try as she might, she couldn’t break the chain. “No,” she cried in vain, “moon and stars above, no!”
Sunset looked to Twilight, who nodded back at her. They set their horns alight, crossed them over to join together in the spell, and projected a shield above. Marble glade quickly shoved everyone in with geomantic shoves, plates of earth pushing and sliding until all were gathered beneath. The beam struck their aural shield of swirling aqua and magenta, and it buckled. The two princesses stamped their hooves to dig in their heels and shoved back until the shield was outwardly shaped once more.
Crackling energies whirled in a grinding sizzle. When it buckled again, Marble stepped in to add her loamy energy to theirs. Inch by inch, the aural shield rose against the onslaught. But it buckled again. Before she could redouble, Trixie, Hope, and Red appeared beside her, trying to approximate the confidence needed for the task before them.
“Lucky for you, Trixie still remembers how to do this.” said Trixie. Her bluff and bluster did little to mask her weak knees and the beads of sweat beneath her silvery bangs. Yet just the same, her powder blue energies joined the mix.
“It’s like riding a bike, right?” Hope asked Red nervously.
“Totally, dude. We’ve got this. Together.” Red bumped hooves with Hope before the two of them added icy blue and scarlet to the mix.
“We seriously need to talk to our agent about this gig.” said Cherry, chewing idly on her hoof as she watched the clash of magic.
“Don’t be silly.” said Onyx flatly, mussing her mane. “We don’t have a dedicated agent. You tend to handle our finances, so, in a way, you kind of are our agent.”
She fixed her hair as she watched him go add his gray energy to the shield. “Exactly. You guys need to not listen to me when I get us a gig like this. Or at least make sure I ask for more money up front.”
Gilda stared up in awe, blankly muttering: “Figures I’d finally find something I want to do with my life, and then die a week later.”
Calypso nudged her to get her attention. Laughing nervously he presented two fresh bottles and said: “I think I’ll take the red this time.”
Galahad sat hunched under the shield, hesitating on what to do. Sniffing the air, she smelled the familiar burn of ancient magics at work. Determined as these ponies were, they would not hold out forever against the artifacts Luna and her friends possessed. Or perhaps, they were being possessed by said artifacts. Looking at the circle, she couldn’t help noticing that Luna and Pinkie were the most lucid, the latter cackling and the former trying to let go of the bond that seemed to enable this font of power.
“Stop this!” cried Luna. “I beg of you, anything you want, I’ll do it, just let go!”
That clenched it. Galahad pounced forward and dug her paw into the circle set to yank Luna back. But when she tried, the circle didn’t budge. The chain went unbroken. And suddenly, she found herself woefully exposed.
Luna looked up at her, eyes full of sadness and burning holy light. “Galahad… run!”
The thrum of smiting energies grew louder. The gilded dragon turned to see the beam leaving the ponies behind and streak right for her. Massive talons dug at the earth to get away, but it was already upon her. A low, roaring howl sang out into the evening as the sun left them behind for this new dawn fire. The scorching sensation climbed along her thigh and planted squarely between her shoulders. The mighty shatterer of lances found one that would break her in time, and curled in on herself from the pain spiking through her massive body.
The searing subsided. Looking up, Galahad saw the unicorns gathered around her, others hunching in as well. The shield held for now, but the mages were draining fast. Sweat drenched their manes and their breathing became ragged.
“The sigil’s… still up…” Trixie reached up and wiped her brow as the sweat stung her eyes. “Would that…”
“Too small.” groaned Twilight. “So much feedback, right on top of them, it would…” She gulped, rather than finish that observation.
Peering over her shoulder, Luna watched the shield buckle again. Time was fast running out. Turning, she begged again. “Okay. You win! You’ve won and you’re in control! Name your terms, just stop this!”
“Anything at all?” Pinkie yelled to be heard over the blast. She tried to play coy, but that was a tricky thing to do when shouting.
“Anything!” Luna repeated desperately.
Thunder seemed to roll across the swaying trees as all at once it simply stopped. The light faded before the blinded group, and the screeching sound of immense power faded off into the distance. Quiet at last. Nearly all the Elements of Harmony collapsed into exhausted heaps, followed shortly by the unicorns finally letting go of the shield spell. Luna shakily pushed up into a weak and awkward sitting position, her sides heaving with pained breathing. She dared not look at her bandages. All her friends were passed out. And looking behind her, the others were helping the tired unicorns onto their hooves. But it was poor Galahad who made her heart sink.
The dragon’s back was a scorched sheet of melted golden slag. It was probably also stuck in that curled-in pose, even as she tried and pushed against the newfound shell. Luna wondered if she’d be able to fly again any time soon—or perhaps at all. And how could such a gallant beast breathe at once huge and mightily, yet so tender and meekly?
A hoof dug in under Luna’s chin, jerking her face back around to see two wicked grins peering over her. “Oh, Luna. Did you really think I’d let you rile me up so easily? That you could show me goofy melodrama I had no control over, and that’s all it would take to leave me dumbstruck? Distracted for your little trap?”
“I…” Luna was about to say that yes, in fact, that had been her plan exactly. Somehow, though, her voice caught in her throat.
“What did I say about taking me seriously?” cooed Pinkie, getting uncomfortably close to her face. That giggle had once filled Luna with such joy. Now it brought only dread. “But now I’ve won. I’ve beaten you.” She giggled again, seemingly giddy, as though she could hardly believe it herself. “Wanna know what I want for my prize?”
Before Luna could think up some pathetic response, a set of claws big as her head rushed right over it; her powder blue locks swept aside in the resulting gust as she watched Pinkie go tumbling back.
Galahad lurched awkwardly forward with a meager warcry. She drew a deep breath as Pinkie righted herself. The Nightmare simply laughed at the beast before disappearing in the resulting gout of diamond white flames.
Luna felt herself being lifted, and found Sunset and Twilight hoisting her back onto her hooves. It was of little relief though.
“This isn’t over.” hissed Sunset.
“W-we can still salvage this—try again.” added Twilight.
A whirling figure rose through the sparkling blaze, tossing aside the old borrowed hoplites used to keep her safe in the fire. Pinkie gingerly set down on top of billowing boughs and casually crossed her hooves. Her blue eyes were icicles aimed right for their hearts. Luna looked down at her friends, drained and unconscious at her feet.
“No,” she said, sorry in every sense of the word, “it’s over. She’s won.”
“Ah, there it is again. I think I feel a tiny bit warmer inside every time I hear it.” She raised one hoof. “Here are my terms, Luna: meet me in the unkempt garden beyond the Everfree castle ruins tomorrow morning. Alone.”
“Okay.” said Luna weakly, gazing up at those wicked eyes.
“I haven’t decided yet if I’ll possess you or kill you.” Pinkie announced, hoof framing her chin with delight and anticipation. “It will be a surprise for both of us!”
A set of barrages aimed up at her, of white flame, and magic missiles of aqua and magenta. But it was too late. The sunlight was gone, and this was now her domain. A mere pink wisp on the shadow, she was gone with a lingering, toying laughter. Luna watched their attacks pass through the air she’d just occupied and hung her head in shame.
Some small part of the limp navy alicorn felt she’d been right from the start: involving the others had only put them in harm’s way. But hadn’t she sworn to do whatever it might take to keep them safe? She looked all around herself, at the damaged trees, the scarred dragon, the knocked out Elements, and those friends who’d only wanted to help out, now having come within an inch of their last breaths. All because of her.
Twilight and Sunset were already trying to convince her some other new plan was possible, but it faded by her ears, every detail forgotten immediately. Luna was a mare of her word, after all. And there a couple promises she might just be able to keep yet; possibly at the same unfortunate time no less.
“Okay, girls,” she said with a bitter smile and her ears folded back, “that sounds good. We’ll clean up here, and reconvene at the castle tomorrow after some rest for a new plan.”
Author's Note
This one was weirdly fun to write.
*editbetter chapter title shh. It's fine.
Part 21: Come back to us.
Luna regretted lying. And just as much, she regretted being any good at it. As she left the broken far wall of Everfree castle behind, the light of dawn made the fluffy clouds above look like cotton candy in the purplish twilight. One by one, the stars winked down at her and were gone to rest. It was a new day.
When she stole a look back at the decrepit ruin that was once her home, winds gently tugging at her hair, she couldn’t help smiling more fondly. For all the bad memories it held, there was at least one good one that stood out to her. The day her new friends helped her put down Nightmare Moon had been the happiest she’d had in far too long. On that day, it seemed all her strife was finally behind her.
More the fool, her. Seemingly, she’d never truly escape her past. It would be with her always; a constant part of herself, for better and worse. She had hoped for better, of course, but was unsurprised when worse found her in time. Turning her back on the castle, she moved forward.
Destiny waits for no mare. she thought ruefully.
What remained of a once well kept garden was a thicket of overgrown hedges and willow trees casting their forlorn vines over every nearby plant or old section of low wall. In many places, the boulders making up that short wall had fallen out of place, their thick bindings of mortar long since drying out and losing grip. Moss claimed the loose cornerstones. Saddest of all, not a single flower seemed to have survived the centuries without proper care; their delicate petals were all gone.
At its heart, Luna found a wide stone plinth. Vines and moss and grime had claimed the emptied space across it, and the plaque was utterly illegible. She made no effort to uncover it as she pondered the space where statues of her parents once stood. There had been little love in her heart for them. Especially her king and father. Once upon a time, she’d convinced herself it was her Nightmare’s idea to topple the old marble depictions. What a comfortable lie.
Always, however, throughout that unhappy youth, there had been Celestia. Her sister had been the only spark of joy. And she’d continued being that warm shoulder for her to lean on even as the two of them made the difficult decisions that came with leadership. Even through overseeing campaigns of war, Celestia was still always there for her.
Right until Luna had found that wasn’t satisfactory. But that was enough reminiscing. She ambled over to the plinth and sat her weary self down. Gazing again at the gorgeous dawn, she drew a long breath and slowly let it go. This was oddly peaceful. Would that it could stay this way.
A certain someone appeared from behind and covered her eyes before playfully saying: “Guess who.”
And just like that, the quiet was over. Luna flatly responded: “Pinkie.”
Pinkie let go of her eyes and fell over into her lap with a dissatisfied groan. “C’mon, you didn’t even try to play along.”
“I…” Luna recoiled somewhat as she looked down at her laid across her thighs like a cat. “I wasn’t aware we were still playing. The impression I’m under is that the game is up. And that you’d won.”
“Maybe so,” chuckled Pinkie, “but it was a fun game, wasn’t it?”
“It had its moments.” said Luna, dry in tone as the unkempt plants and stone surrounding them. More sternly, she then told her: “But you went much too far in the last couple bouts.”
“Psh. I had to, to get on your level; hoo boy, some of the havoc you caused. How could I ever compete with that?” The smile beneath the smile was daunting.
“But was that truly necessary? You really hurt poor Twilight and Galahad.” She looked down at her, pleading, hoping against hope she might still be reached.
Pinkie reached up and gave Luna’s snout a playful little poke. “I never did no permanent damage to nobody. Where’s the fun if someone can’t come back to play again? And that’s more than we could say for you, my dear, hmm?”
Luna’s mouth went tight and she held her tongue. It was a sharp remark that cut bone deep.
Pinkie relished in that deepening grimace. She playfully shrugged. “But here we are. You, a wizened alicorn, outsmarted but a goofy little ‘spaz’ like me. Don’t you feel silly?”
“I’ve certainly gained a newfound respect for you.” Luna simply couldn’t help herself. She reached down and brushed some of those curling magenta locks back behind Pinkie’s ear. However she’d wanted to arrive at this point with her, this certainly wasn’t it. It was almost nice—painfully close to it, even. That sweetness was still there, beneath that malicious glee. Memories of her own joy in the pain she caused clung to her aching heart. Hesitation gripped her next; slowly, her hoof pressed against the chin of her smiling mask, unable to bear this layer between them.
Pinkie Pie let Luna push the mask up. Her grin spoke of confidence that she knew quite well Luna wouldn’t try anything funny. Or at least, she hoped she’d be funny in some other way. So where was the harm in a pleasant little gesture? “Happy to see me again?”
“I would be, if it were just you and I. Our mutual guest makes this rather awkward.” Luna’s eyes were full of sadness and longing.
Pinkie reached up and tickled Luna’s chin. “Don’t be that way, babe. The new wings are a ton of fun. I might just keep them.”
“Maybe you won’t.” Luna’s eyes fell closed. “Pinkie. Would you relay to Nightmare that it can have me? I’ll play the role of Nightmare Moon again willingly, so long as you’re set free of this burden. Additionally, I want our friend group left untouched by us.”
Pinkie gaped up at her before propping her hooves in under her head in a more relaxed manner. “She’s a little bored of regular old Moon now. I’ve been way too fun, especially with an Element’s power. You’re going to have to sweeten the deal.”
“‘Sweeten’ is almost a funny way of wording that, considering you worked at a bakery.” Luna smiled weakly.
Pinkie smirked back at her. “So it is. But make your offer.”
Bittersweet look on her face, Luna nodded slowly. She knew this would happen. From her jean jacket’s pocket, she produced the Element of Magic and attached it to her throat. The metal was cold where it gripped. “Very well.”
“Whoa.” mused Pinkie. She was almost surprised. “You’re serious.”
“I said I’d do anything to protect those I care about.” Luna cupped Pinkie’s cheek. “I meant that with all my heart.”
Pinkie let out an amused snort. “What about your sister? Once you’re a magic juiced Moon, she won’t be safe from you.”
“I have every confidence Celestia can handle herself.” responded Luna without missing a beat, any remaining good humor gone from her face in a blink. She knew what that meant. And she found she didn’t care at the moment.
“Okay.” said Pinkie, considering her carefully. “I believe you really mean all that, you big softie. So, deal… is what I would say if you didn’t cheat.”
Luna arched her brows at her. She pondered what that could possibly mean, for half a moment’s breadth before it sourly dawned on her. Looking up she wondered if it was true. Which, sadly, it was. Twilight and Sunset were leading the other Elements—her other friends into the old garden. Across their faces she read a mix of disappointment and, strangely, conviction. She worried she might have to test hers against theirs.
“You really think you could lie in fronta me, sugarcube?” asked Applejack with an amused look of pride. “I play cards with my big brother, and he’s got the best poker face around.”
“She’s not wrong.” said Rainbow Dash somewhat chagrined at the memory of being trounced by the stallion for several rounds. She shook herself out of that, as this wasn’t the time or place. “Anyway, c’mon, dude. We just got done talking about this.”
Luna looked down into her lap as Pinkie rolled over and leapt onto the plinth behind her. With wings unfolding, several weapons clattered onto the stone around her hooves, one of which she actually bothered catching. It clinked against her lowering mask as she chomped down upon it with her teeth, its glint in the rising sun—along with the rest of her armaments—declaring a derisive challenge.
Looking back at them, Luna’s eyes lacked any energy; she was by far not in the mood for this. “I’ve tried overpowering her, outnumbering her, and outsmarting her. And I can’t win. So, please…”
“So you’re just gonna give up?” spat Rainbow.
“It’s no simple matter of resigning. But I’d do anything to keep you girls safe.” Luna smiled fondly, hooves going over her heart. “All of you made me feel like I could truly escape my past. And I’m so thankful for that. If you’d just let me do this for y—”
“But you don’t have to do it alone.” Rainbow threw her hoof out at her side. “Any of this. We’ve got your backs, remember? It’s what friends are for.” She gave a curt nod and a snort as she added: “Besides, I still owe ya one for catching me outta the sky.”
“No hard feelings, by the way.” taunted Pinkie from over Luna’s shoulder. She winked at Dash and said: “I knew she’d getcha.”
Rainbow rolled her eyes while Sunset stepped forth. “Luna, I know you blame yourself for what happened to Galahad, but that wasn’t your fault. And rest assured, she will fly again.”
Fluttershy nodded in affirmation. “I looked her over myself. They shielded her before any permanent damage could be done. Please believe me, Luna, I wouldn’t lie about this just for your sake.”
“I’d never assume such trickery of you.” Luna’s eyes stung as she smiled sweetly. “You are the single kindest pony I’ve ever met, Fluttershy. Of course I believe you.”
“Then quit this pity party charade.” said Rarity. She held her nose high, trying against all hope to keep a high sense of pride and dignity. There’d be plenty of time to let the waterworks flow after this was done, so she gulped it down and added: “You’re no loathsome burden, Luna, you’re our friend. You think you take from us, but you’ve a giving heart in you yet. S-so please… don’t leave us for the darkness.”
“She’s right. You’ve brought so much to our lives.” said Applejack, hat in her hooves. Her green eyes swiveled over to the masked figure she knew. Heavy was her heart as she added: “Both of you. Not that I don’t love my family—certainly I do by heaps. But because o’ you two, my house has felt so much fuller and lively and warm. It won’t be the same home without you—either of you coming to visit or break bread with us. Please don’t take that away from us.”
There came slow, steady, rhythmic clicks. Luna looked over her shoulder to see Pinkie standing tall on her hind legs to clap her hooves. “Wow,” said Pinkie facetiously, “you’re all really trying the heartfelt speech routine again? After that worked so well last time, haha!”
“Don’t let her taunts get to you, girls.” said Sunset.
“Well duh.” said Rainbow. Half a moment later, Pinkie lurched up from her shadow and threw her hoof across her shoulder. Unable to help herself, she squeaked out: “Eep!”
“You’re one to talk so big.” teased Pinkie, leaning upon her casually as long friends could feel comfortable in doing. She duly ignored Rainbow’s narrowing eyes. “All your bluster was gone after one encounter with me. You folded faster than Luna.”
Rainbow grabbed that too casual hoof and proceeded to toss Pinkie over her shoulder and down to the ground. “I was in a bad place then. I’m better now.” She looked up at Luna from where she held Pinkie down. “I guess… I understand you a little better because of that.”
“Bonding over mutual toxicity?” Pinkie coughed up a laugh as she gripped at the hooves pinning her. The throw had winded her for a moment, so her grip was weak. “Heh, how cute.” She faded beneath Rainbow’s shadow, who sank onto the ground with a confused look when she was gone. The long shadows provided by the surrounding woods and the light of dawn would make this tricky.
“And you, you’re so jumpy for a Princess of Patience. So easy to trick.”
They all whirled around to where Pinkie had appeared next to Sunset. Her horn was already lowered with a growing glow.
Pinkie threw a small bouquet of flowers in her face and the blast sent petals into a colorful shower all around them. While they were distracted, she swept the legs and sent the princess thudding onto her side. Sashaying by in the remaining confusion, she said: “Or were those shots not not mistakes? I bet you were actually trying to kill me.”
“What?” asked Sunset as she pushed herself up. She then immediately felt like a fool for taking the bait.
“You must really hate me.” cooed Pinkie over her shoulder at her. “Just like you hated Luna. Or do you look down on me, the goofy little peasant cavorting with my betters? Is that i—”
A crackling sent Pinkie leaping back. Rarity stepped forth, icy energies fading from her horn as the frosty trap too began to fade. Next, her cool grip brought her blade telekinetically before her. “Enough preamble, Pinkie. If this is the only way to help you… so be it.”
“Cutting to the chase I see.” said Pinkie before beating her wings to dash back over to Luna’s side. “Fair enough, then.”
Applejack loosened the lasso from her side and tossed her hat to a safe corner out of the way. She widened her stance, tense shoulders raising above her head. “Mayhaps this time we hogtie her until she’s better.”
Fluttershy blinked. Leaning over to Dash, she whispered: “I’m glad she didn’t pick me. I don’t know that I could have handled it.”
Pinkie was in the middle of fiddling with her mask when her ears perked up at that. With the gold resting atop her head, they could see her offended face. “Uh, of course not? That would be messed up.”
They all gawked at her a moment, incredulous. Their widened stances pulled back, their shoulders went slack, and none among them knew whether to balk or laugh.
Pinkie felt dozens of magenta hairs suddenly spring up around her shoulders in messy curl. She tried to smooth them down with great frustration. “Look, I’m evil, not a monster. I have standards, ya know!”
It began as a small snicker. By the time Pinkie looked over at Luna, she was clutching her bandaged sides with bright guffaws hooting out of her uncontrollably. She laughed and laughed, each bubbly chuckle sending more ruddy pink locks curling back.
Pinkie’s face went beet red. With gritted teeth, she reached up and yanked Luna by the chin. Her mask came off in the same motion, and she showed her hold over both for all to see. “The reason you haven’t won is because your hero’s been holding back! She was too scared she’d hurt precious Pinkie, but there won’t be any holding back when she’s under my control. And none of you will ever laugh at me again!”
The mask raced towards Luna’s face, shadowy tendrils within ready for a loving embrace, like a puppet’s strings love tugging on the little dancer. Try as the rest might to rush in to intervene, it was too late to reach them. But then, a heavy clink sounded off as Luna clamped her hooves upon the edges. Turning just so, Pinkie lost hold of it as she was yanked into an embrace of Luna’s own.
“I’m not laughing at you,” she told Pinkie softly, “I’m delighted by you. I was such a fool to give up, because all you’ve done is give me hope.”
Pinkie paused. A few more hairs stood on end. When one of the others got the idea to go for the mask she’d dropped, however, she squirmed out of her hold. When she came up, frowning mask returned, she held a long, narrow dagger pointed at Luna. “Enough. Stand up and fight me.”
Luna looked at the blade’s tip aimed for her heart. Normally, she’d be fearfully imagining that beating organ being run through, and it would start drum much faster. But oddly, its thudding was steady and firm. Meeting Pinkie’s eyes, she simply said: “No.”
Pinkie was dumbstruck. She grimaced. “You can’t just say ‘no’ to a fight. That’s not how a fight works.”
Shrugging, almost playefully so, Luna said: “I don’t care.”
“But…” Pinkie glanced at the rest of them, their stances uneasy. It was as though they worried she might actually kill her. Which… they should think that, shouldn’t they? Because she would too, wouldn’t she? Shaking out of it, she said: “Come on. This isn’t how the story’s supposed to go. They’re supposed to lift your spirits for one last showdown—a final set piece where the winner takes it all.”
“Just like your play? I don’t think so.” Luna watched the knife tremble. She stood and stepped closer to it, until the cold tip was grazing her coat. “I told you before. We can write our own story. You and I. Together.”
Pinkie shook. Her head sank. All she had to do was lean forward—even a little bit—and it would be over. She’d win again—for good this time. Ears folding back, she begged: “Please? I don’t want what we have to end. Not yet.”
Luna reached up and pushed the blade away slowly. Pinkie let her. Her smile warmed as the shoulders all around them eased, letting go of so much tension. “It doesn’t have to. But it’s up to you. You have to want to leave the darkness behind. I know it’s hard, but I’ve done it, and so can you. I’ll be here for you. And so will our amazing friends.”
Hair after hair frayed as Pinkie struggled to stay upright, knees seeming like they’d give out any moment. She started to say something but stopped, more than once. The knife began to come up again, only to fall from her hooves. Eyes wincing shut, they could see every muscle tense, every gut clenching. “How can you say that? When I’ve been alone for so long…”
Luna was a little taken aback. Her voice seemed a tiny bit different. “You don’t… have to be alone, you know… Nightmare?”
“Just like that?” A bitter laugh came up, very different to Pinkie’s brighter sort. “Come now.”
“If that’s what it takes.” Luna moved a little closer. “It…” She glanced back at her confused, but hopeful friends. “It certainly worked for me. We could give it a try.”
She smiled at them. They smiled back at her.
The far sun flashed briefly, oh so briefly. Many among them looked away to see it was still indeed a beautiful dawn. Perhaps it had only been a trick of the light. But a voice from on high soon dissuaded such a notion.
“You’ve done quite well thus far, girls. I’ll take it from here.”
Celestia descended, landing with a wave of force and light that sent the shadow possessed mare careening back. Before she could land, let alone regain her balance, the solar queen soared toward her on mighty burning wings, and both were gone in a flash like the one that brought the pale rider of light.
Just like that. Luna gaped in shock at the empty air where they’d just been. It all happened so fast, she couldn’t stop any part of it. A heavy emptiness clung to her. She’d failed those she’d loved again.
No. she thought with renewed vigor. This could not and would not be done in such a way. By my honor, it shall be done my way.
“What did she mean… ‘take it from here?’ What’s the queen gonna…” Applejack got her first answer in the form of Rarity dropping her sword and falling onto her knees.
“Oh my stars.” she said in despair. Rarity looked skyward, but her stars didn’t answer her back. They were already gone to rest.
Fluttershy’s eyes shook. She didn’t believe that. She couldn’t. Clinging to Rainbow, she begged of her: “They’re wrong, aren’t they? She’s Luna’s sister, she wouldn’t…”
Rainbow hardly heard her. She was antsily looking this way and that. Certainly there had to be some sign of which way they’d gone. She could surely reach them before… whatever that meant.
As Luna marched over to the group, Sunset was trying to assure them Celestia wouldn’t hurt her, that they had to calm down, that they didn’t know what she had planned. It wasn’t her Luna was curious about. It was Twilight, whose drooping ears, chewed lip, and eyes staring blankly off at nothing in particular dozens of yards away said it all.
“You told her about this meeting. Didn’t you?” Luna loomed over her and still she wouldn’t give her attention up. So she lowered her head and put her eyes to Twilight’s. “Twilight, I just need you to know that I’m not mad at you. And what happens next is not your fault, okay?”
“I…” muttered Twilight, struggling to keep eye contact. “I did, but… she said she would help—that she’d take care of it.” Shaking her head, she fell back a step. “She wanted to help us—to help you. Why does everypony think… she wouldn’t…”
Luna couldn’t help noticing the gaping looks turning on them. As steadily as she could, she told her: “We are cut of the same cloth, from an age far and away more tumultuous than yours. We both most certainly would—at least, after yesterday’s disaster—and she will.”
Twilight blurted: “Wh—but where—”
“Don’t worry.” said Luna, turning to step away. “I’ve a good idea. I’ll go have a chat with her.”
Rainbow was at her side right away. “Take us with you. C’mon.”
“I don’t think the lot of us showing up and all shouting at once will be very convincing.” She out her hooves upon Rainbow’s shoulders, looking her in the eyes. “But she’s my sister. If anyone understands her best, it’s me. Let me try and reason with her first, and I’ll come back for help if I can’t. Okay?”
Rainbow bit her lip. “But…”
“Do you girls trust me?”
Rainbow hesitated. She looked to the other girls, getting only half hearted endorsement. With a sigh, she let it go. “Okay. We trust you Luna. Go bring Pinkie back to us.”
“Thank you.” said Luna stepping away to get a cleared spell radius. She rather hated lying. But while she did know her sister well enough to have the best chance at convincing her, she also knew all too well what Celestia was capable of. Elements or no, the others couldn’t stand against her. This was for their own good. Let her bear the brunt of the solar might and magic.
Pinkie fell out of the open air and went tumbling across soft, cold fluff. Rising, she shook herself off, taking extra care to clear off her now aching wings. Finally taking in her new scenery, she found herself amid a snowdrift high in the mountains somewhere. Those cotton candy clouds now seemed so tiny in the distance. They also seemed lower than where she now was, as the thinner, crisper air then confirmed.
Above her, the queen hovered gracefully. Even her stern face had a certain elegance to it, even if it was cold as the snow she sat in, rather than warm like the sun she represented. Pinkie stood and gave her an overly exaggerated bow. “Your grace. Most delightful to see you again.”
“I see your sense of humor is still intact. Good.” Celestia stayed aloft while she considered the creature before her. This was the ideal place; the clear weather and exposure to dawn meant there’d be no shadows to flee through. And after all, the light would stay here as long as she deemed it necessary. “It means you’re still in there. I hope, then, you’ll hear me when I tell you this: none of this is personal, and I hate it’s come to this.”
“Is that right?” Pinkie gazed up at her with two smirks. Suddenly feeling over this, she let herself plop down in the snow, lounging back, eased and light as the thinner mountain air. She didn’t even mind when a few more hairs sprang back. If she was to face certain doom, she might as well have a little fun.
“It is indeed.” Celestia told her, unamused. “I hope you and your friends can come to appreciate that while I wish this unnecessary, I cannot risk you gaining access to the full might of the Elements again. For the good Equestrians everywhere.”
“If that helps you sleep at night, queenie.” Pinkie scratched under her chin in the most unbothered manner she could manage.
Still steadily beating her wings, something odd happened. Celestia cracked a slight smile. “I can really see why you caught my sister’s eye. Your wit is a perfect suit to hers, in your own more energetic way.”
Pinkie’s taunting smile grew bitter. A dozen sharp and biting replies crossed her mind. Her smile faded as they each failed to bubble up. But how could she let that stand? Her mask frowned.
“If you’ve any last words, I can pass them along. Mayhaps it will ease the pain of what comes next.” Celestia extended her hoof as if to take the words right out of her and hold them dearly, to pass gingerly like fragile mementos.
Pinkie stared up at her, quiet for a long moment. The way the sun lit up her feathers made them look like gold. But gold is a heavy thing, however soft and malleable. It wouldn’t be able to hover like she was now; she’d sink like a stone and send a spray of cold powder up. Now that was an amusing thought. Pinkie’s smiles returned.
“Yeah,” Pinkie told her, “let them know I said you can’t kill me. But like, cut off the quote halfway to make it sound like I was a goner partway through my act of hubris. I bet Luna would appreciate that. In a dramatic irony sort of way, you know?”
Celestia’s dainty little chin fell ever so slightly agape. She blinked down at the curious little trickster she was in the process of condemning. “Kill? Do you all think me so brutal as to—”
“Yeah, haha. They’re probably all freaking out right this second, thinking you’re burning me to ash or something.” Pinkie waved it off with a hearty chuckle. Pulling her hoof back, she tucked it back behind her head as she relaxed. “Oh, but you’re not going to. Because we’re going to stop you.”
“You may have these strange nightmare powers and the Element of Laughter on your side. It will not be enough, I’m afraid.” Celestia shook her head. Facing her, her voice nearly caught in her throat. This never got any easier. But it had to be. “But enough. I’ve tried to reach what parts of you I can. Goodbye, Pinkie.”
She watched her queen’s horn alight with some new energies. Then, she promptly pointed off in the other direction, beyond where they faced one another, and said: “Oh, I know I can’t stop you. But she might.”
Celestia stayed focused on her spell. “If you think I’ll fall for the most basic trick in the b—oof!”
Pinkie crossed one leg over the other with a shake of her head. “Shoulda listened to me. You really thought I’d lie about something like that. How rude of you.”
Spinning through the air, Celestia lost her spell concentration, but she wrenched her hooves aside and tossed her assailant, spiking them right into another nearby snowdrift. She was just about to ready a sunbeam when she noticed the navy blue feathers. Powder blue locks came shaking out of the snow. A sigh hissed through her teeth. She should have known. “Luna.”
“Don’t you ‘Luna’ me.” spat Luna glaring up at her. She was very glad for the jacket, shaking off the last of the snow. “I almost had this. Then you come butting in. Did you make Twilight tell you everything about last night?”
Celestia’s lip curled into a perturbed sneer at that. “I didn’t have to make anypony do anything. I simply asked her so that I might take care of this.”
Luna’s wings fidgeted. “I’m not your sad little baby sister anymore. I don’t need you stepping in for me.”
Eyes of royal purple gazed down with all the ire of a chiding parent. As sensitively as she could, the queen said: “Meaning you no offense, you’ve had several chances to. Now move.”
“One more is all I’m asking for. Please, Celestia, I swear I was getting through to—”
“Like how you almost got through to her yesterday? And how that was simply a ploy for her to charm the other Elements and use their powers to nearly reduce those innocent bystanders—ones you involved in that, might I add—to ash?” Celestia shook her head with disappointment. “No, Luna. This ends now.”
Luna’s nostrils flared with a defiant snort. Eyes locked with Celestia’s, she stepped over and stood in front of Pinkie. There was no need to utter another word. The determination—the lunar fire of her eyes said it all.
Celestia gaped at her. “I know you’re upset. But you’re being irrational. She nearly killed those people; your dragon friend included.”
“Her name is Galahad.” said Luna flatly.
A hoof pointed down at her like a biting accusation. “Surely you must understand the mare you loved is lost to us. She nearly killed you—nearly took you from us—from me, your sister.”
“But she didn’t, did she?” Luna’s brows arched up at her. “She’s held back all of Nightmare’s felling blows. You speak down to me about seeing this situation for what it is, but overlook that. How is that fair?”
It was Celestia’s turn for a quick, harsh breath to flare her nostrils. “And yet you haven’t managed to pull her out. Enough has to be enough. I’ve allowed weeks of her remaining an existential threat to my people—people you yourself used to be the guardian of as well, before you abandoned them for that paltry little polycule.”
Luna’s face flushed, even as Celestia covered her mouth with clear regret for letting that one tumble free. She began to say her friends were not such a thing. But she didn’t know what it meant. One of her drooping ears flickered at Pinkie cackling behind her. She tried to move on with: “There you go looking down on me again. When all I want is to live my own life.”
Celestria threw her hoof out at her side, her hackles raising. “You don’t get your own little life, don’t you understand? You don’t have to lead with me in politicking, but the Element of Magic chose you. You have a responsibility to put its powers—and those of the rest of the Elements—to good use. For the good, not just of the people of our nation, but the entire world they could potentially threaten if used improperly—just like your own deeper wells of magic afforded by being an alicorn. Have you forgotten the weight of your own power? Have you forgotten what those stones can do?”
“N-no!” Luna winced. She’d seen firsthand what they could do far too many times to ever forget; the recent melting of golden scales needn’t even come up in that conversation. “Regardless, I’m not letting you kill her.”
A shout of frustration finally escaped her. Celestia careened out of the sky, lashing the cold dust all around them as she now hovered a foot off the ground. “Tartarus,” she barked, “I was going to send her to Tartarus. I’m not so cruel as to ask you to ever speak to me again if I had your little girlfriend’s blood on my hooves.”
Luna gulped. They stared at each other for what felt like a full minute. Pinkie finally stood up and leaned on her haunch to look up over Luna’s shoulder. She asked the sisters: “So does this mean we’re not having Hearth’s Warming dinner at the castle?”
With an exasperated sigh, Celestia said: “One last chance, Luna. Please. Don’t make me do this.”
Luna glanced back at Pinkie who smiled oh so sweetly and waved at her. It was as though this was just another lovely autumn day they were sharing. If only it was so. Meeting Celestia’s glare, she said: “You still needn’t. What were your own words, moments ago? ‘I’m not making anypony do anything.’”
Celestia considered the defiant shrug very carefully. She nodded slowly. “Alright then.” she said. Her wings finally lowered her onto the snow, which hissed at her touch. Steam billowed up and whipped in the wind as her fiery mood was realized. “Just know that I take no pleasure in this—”
“Hey, that sounds familiar.” interrupted Pinkie Pie.
“—but if it must be this way,” continued their queen, glaring at Pinkie over her shoulder, “then so be it. And Luna? Once, you know, I always considered you my equal.”
“Would that it always felt that was the case.” Luna’s tone was sorrowful rather than bitter. She knew her sister meant it. Regretfully, she widened her stance as the avatar of the sun began to approach, hissing step after hissing step.
Celestia’s stony expression softened the tiniest little touch, from granite to marble. “You’re right. Had I been able to better express that, how much suffering between us could I have avoided? I am truly sorry for that, little sister. As I’m sorry for what comes next.”
“Then don’t be.” As stalwart as her stance was, Luna still felt incredibly uneasy, heart pounding against her chest. Ears folding back, she met her eyes far less furiously, one last time. “One last chance. Please, Celestia, I’m begging you—I’ll get down on my knees if I have to, whatever it takes.”
“Hey,” complained Pinkie behind her, “only I get to make you beg on your knees.”
“Would you please hush, dear?” asked Luna, not taking her eyes off Celestia. Grimacing, she added: “I’m trying so very hard right now to avoid having to trounce my sister for you.”
“Ah, but here’s the thing.” Tsssssssss. The melting snow boiled under Celestia’s step, as though the sun itself were eking into her body, filling the imperfect vessel up with uncontainable heat. She lifted her nose and lowered her gaze; it was an easy thing to do, being over a head taller than Luna. “You were sadly stuck inert for a thousand years. While I kept up my practice—my learning during that time.”
Author's Note
Place your bets now for how this will end!
Part 22: Come back to me.
Before Luna could think up a response, let alone utter it, Celestia changed positions in a split second of yellow solar flashing energies, her body already spun full forward to hammer her rear hooves down upon her brow. Luna bit her tongue as she lurched face first into the snow to taste cold and that sickly, familiar, metallic tang. One eye sprang open as she immediately made to retaliate, jerking her hooves about to spin her tilted body round, aided by diagonal lashes of her wings. As she reared, her flailing hooves caught Celestia across her cheek and jaw in surprise.
Reeling back, Celestia wiped her chin. Her sister hadn’t even hardly broken the skin. But it still smarted. Looking up, she found Luna already up and flinging herself toward her, hooves wrapping around her to knock her awkwardly across her back. So she pulled her hindlegs in and kicked her sister up into the air, horn aimed. A beam, bright as sunflowers dancing on the breeze of a summer’s day, erupted forth.
Luna beat one wing, spiraling off from the sunbeam’s path. She saw the light already beginning to flash around Celestia, and flapped again to turn about in the air. When Celestia appeared at her side, the two had strikes aimed for one another’s heads, but their bucking hooves clashed, sending both of them careening off from one another. As she flipped back, Luna summoned forth a volley of lunar missiles, loosing them only to find Celestia had had the same idea.
The air filled up with magic bolts. A few landed by Pinkie, crashing the snowdrifts like siege munitions, kicking up clouds of frost. She didn’t bother scrambling away. From the magic space behind her wing, she produced a paper bucket of popcorn and began flicking pieces into her mouth using the tiny opposable claws. Several missed, as she was still getting used to these things.
Luna soared down, hooves skimming snow as she and her sister strafed about one another, their eyes locked. When she saw the yellow charge along her horn, Luna thought quickly. With a blink of pale blue, she appeared a couple dozen yards above the rolling, snowy mountain top. Celestia had reappeared where she’d just been, as she figured she was about to. Aiming down at her, the moonbeam lit the space between them in a flash.
Hearing the thrumming energies before she could see them, Celestial erected a warding bubble. Solar and lunar forces crackled as the two glared at each other. One pushed harder against the other, and the opposite sister rose to meet her increased force. To Luna’s chagrin, she felt the first beads of sweat, despite how cool it was. Her sister, meanwhile, was stone faced and seemingly dry as desert bone.
“Curious.” mused Celestia, horn still pulsing with magic. “You wear the Element of Magic, but don’t tap into it. Why do you still hold back against me?”
“Because I don’t want to do this!” growled Luna through the strain.
“And you think I do? I love you, Luna. You’re the only good thing to have come from our royal house.” She disappeared, bubble and all, leaving her spot to be ripped apart by Luna’s beam spell. In that same breath, she reappeared beside Luna and lashed her with solar thread. “But I’m not holding back.”
Luna’s stomach lurched one way as she rose, then the other as she flew back first into the snow. The trip had left her slightly dazed. When a face appeared above her, she first expected it to be Celestia’s. Instead, it was Pinkie’s.
“I can help, you know. Just say the word.”
“I’d rather—” Luna rolled over as several sunbolts crashed into the ground where she lied. Rolling onto her hooves, she saw Pinkie leaping between the same volley. She created a shield above the two of them. “This is my fight. I may yet be the only one who can face her.”
Pinkie was looking up at the thrumming, buckling aural shield. Meeting Luna, she reached up and poked her forehead, right between the eyes. “This is your problem, you know. Still trying to play lone wolf paladin, protecting others. I bet the others think you’re talking this through and would go back for help if that failed. This doesn’t just affect you, though.”
“But…” Luna tried to balk, not wanting to let on Pinkie had guessed so correctly. The thought frustrated her. But then, she supposed few mares knew her better. Glancing up at Celestia, she redoubled her shield.
“You’re more stubborn than Rainbow and AJ combined.” Pinkie tapped the side of her own head. “Get this through your thick skull: you don’t have to go it alone.”
Celestia appeared between them in a flash. A wave of light blasted outward from her horn, sending both of them tumbling back from her. It was only a split second’s hesitation before she decided to fly after Luna first.
That second was all Luna needed to roll back across her shoulders, rise above Celestia’s trajectory, throw herself down upon her hooves first. All four crashed against her sister’s haunches, burying Celsetia with a hearty crunch into the snow her coat nearly disappeared into.
“Cease!” cried Luna as she lurched down to shove her sister’s face back into the snow her body kept melting when she tried to rise. “We can stop at any moment.”
Hooves and wings moved in tandem to shove the ground away from Celestia, even as Luna tried to push back. She tilted, and as Luna began to tumble away, spun herself about faster to grab her and quickly switch positions, Luna’s shoulders slamming down into the slush.
“Where has the forethought afforded by our long lifespans gone?” spat Celestia. As Luna tried to seemingly bite back, she planted her hoof firmly against her cheek and drove her face back to the ground. “What happens seventy years from now when you have to bury her anyway? Will you react as poorly then as you are now?”
Luna kicked her stomach and paid little mind to the flecks of spittle it sent with a winded bellow. Pushing up, she slammed back down as Celestia refused to let her go. A yelp squeaked out of her clenched face as she realized all too suddenly those wounds from Pinkie still weren’t terribly healed. With a cough, she snarled out: “And have you asked that of Cadance regarding Shining? Or are your new favorite pets exempt where I’m not?”
Celestia didn’t recoil as Luna’s horn immolated her hooves with pale fire as they pressed and struggled against one another. She let the lunar flames lick and gather up her legs. The burn meant nothing to her. Wry and bitter, she said: “Oh ho ho. Well. As long as we’re airing the grievances, then!” She grunted as she received another kick to the gut. But she was readily clenched this time and lost no breath. “I can’t help feeling like you don’t want the rift between us to ever heal!”
Luna huffed as lunar pale flames danced all around them, a stream beginning to form away. “That’s absurd. What, because we’re having a spat right now? If you’d just—”
“No,” rebuked Celestia, pressing her down again, “because you don’t talk to me—you haven’t said hardly a word to me since the Gala—and I offer you help and it only upsets you!”
Luna whined again as shoving, grappling hooves found her ribs. It took a shuddering breath before she could find her voice again. “You don’t ask me what help I want. Like how you assigned me guards without a word.”
The fury began to fade from Celestia’s eyes.
“That’s why I love my friends—why I love her despite our problems.” Luna shook her head, pushing back far more weakly. “There is no greater show of love than being truly understood and respected.”
A single tear formed at the corner of Celestia’s eye. She just then realized the trail of blood trickling from one end of Luna’s mouth. No doubt her doing. Worse yet, she noticed the red beginning to show through her bandages. What was she doing? “Luna… I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it. I was just upset, I swear. I-I just wanted to help, I—”
“I know. And I’m sorry too.” Luna took a deep breath and let the flames subside. “But I’m finally ready to accept the help of somepony I love. And this time, it’s help I actually want.”
Celestia’s grip loosened and a wavering smile overtook her. At long last, she finally felt like she had her sister back. “Oh, Luna…”
The shake of Luna’s head was full of pain—untold centuries of lingering hurt feelings. “I’m so sorry. But I didn’t mean you. Not this time.”
A regal heart could be a powerful thing. And hers began to sink, along with a single tear splashing her sister’s face. “What?”
“Surprise!” joyously screamed Pinkie as she jumped onto Celestia’s side, hooves wrapping tight around her waist. The queen lurched back with shock as Pinkie’s bat wings gave one hearty beat. The two of them rolled back through the air, and the head of royalty spiked the ground head first. If they didn’t know any better, the ponies present thought they might well have heard a bell ring twice upon the open air. But that was absurd.
Celestia rolled over and sluggishly pushed back onto her hooves. Dazed, she watched Pinkie help Luna up. With a shake of her aching head, she drearily said: “You cannot be serious.”
“I’m not serious, I’m Pinkie.” said Pinkie, far more bubbly than she likely should have.
A soft smile spread across Luna’s face as she watched her snort with laughter, seemingly not mindful of the locks curling back. Just a little more and she’d have her back.
The queen’s head sank, crestfallen. “You spoke before on being alone. I too was alone, Luna. I was alone for so long without you. So many friends and advisors came and went across so many painful centuries. It hurt. It really did.”
Luna and Pinkie’s smiles faded. They looked over at her, good humor fading.
“I was so elated when I realized another pony had it in them to become an alicorn. Cadance meant I’d finally have a familiar face to keep again.” A bitter laugh burbled up from Celestia. “But they’re all like the lost little daughters I never had, all needing constant attention and teaching. I’d hardly call any of them the friends I’d been needing. Maybe it was a mistake. Had I waited just a little longer, you could have told me that yourself. And maybe things would finally be okay between us again.”
“It still can be.” said Luna, stepping forth.
“Then prove it.” Celestia’s purple eyes flashed from behind her drooping aural locks of shifting hue. “Put her in Tartarus. Prove to me you’re capable of doing the hard things you must; for the greater good.”
Luna sighed. “I know this is taking a while, but I can reach her. And what of me? Would you assign me such a fate if you felt it necessary for that greater good? Would you do so, here and now?”
“I’ve done worse to you.” Celestia’s smirk was bitter and rueful and bordering on furious. “Tartarus would be kinder by far.”
“Hardly.” Luna’s frown pulled to one side.
“Heavy is the head that wears the crown, Luna. Of course I don’t want to pick between you and our people. Of course I want to pick you. I love you far more than any stranger I ought to protect. But if you’re going to put their innocent lives at risk, I’ll do what I must. However hard it will be—however much it pains me—however much it pains us.”
Pinkie sidled up beside Luna. “Are you done?”
Celestia rose, standing tall. She flung her hair back behind her. “No.”
The two of them felt a little warmer and turned to see the sun flaring out. It seemingly grew and grew until its fiery tendrils were twice as large as usual. The sky turned mid day blue, despite it still being dawn.
Luna shielded her eyes. Her horn lit with a familiar pale energy, and she said: “Now who’s being ridiculous?”
“Oh,” groaned Celestia, “you’d better not.” Even as she reached out with her magic, she couldn’t stop it. That heavenly body still belonged to Luna, after all. The moon rose upon the horizon and eclipsed the blazing sun. In short order, the pale blue skies went ruddy; perfect for the season. The stars blinked their sleepy eyes in the false twilight. The queen’s cheeks were as flushed as the skies above. “You’d finally take back the moon, and for this?”
“My friend here needed a little help.” said Luna as though it was so small and mundane a matter.
Pinkie meanwhile leapt into the air and dove toward the snow as if it were a pool. Her body sank into the shadow, setting Celestia’s eyes wide. Looking about her, she suddenly realized how dark it had gotten. She looked back at Luna. There was only one recourse. To be rid of the dark, she had to have the moon returned. And there was only one way to do that.
Luna reached out and stomped the ground. A pillar of ice rose just as her sister flew toward her, interrupting her flight. When she landed on the shadow ridden ground, pink hooves rose to greet her. She lurched toward her sister, plowing through the snowdrifts like a train. She smacked the hooves dragging her several times, to no avail.
Pinkie rose from the shadow just high enough to launch Celestia. Luna spun about and bucked her hoof squarely into her chest. While her sister recovered, she hopped, turning again to crack her across her dizzy jaw.
Celestia shook out of it and lowered her horn with a fury. Then, it lowered even further as a hooked cane reached up from the shadow and yanked her down by her neck. Her sunbeam went wide. Teeth gritting, she stomped down hard and pulled the cane with all her might. It came up, but without Pinkie on the other end of it. Growling, she snapped the item in two and tossed the pieces aside.
“Hey,” complained Pinkie, “that was my aunt’s. She needs that to walk.” She was visible only from the chest up, hooves crossed with indignation.
Celestia made to get after her, but heard Luna making a move. She blank away in a flash, reappearing above them, reeling her horn back. Glowing lines of sunshine followed her horns path, carving lines in the snow before they erupted in walled bursts of fire. They appeared this way and that, cutting off their movement before disappearing in smolder and smoke.
Luna couldn’t stop herself, so shielded her leap through a new wall, finally reaching Pinkie. She wrapped her lunar threads about her hoof and pulled up, slingshotting her toward Celestia.
Pinkie kept her wings folded at her side for the initial rise, then gave the air a good lashing before slamming into her queen’s shoulder. As the two rapidly spun through the air, she said: “It’s okay if you get nauseous, we can take a break, haha!”
Celesia barely managed to regain control before they hit the ground. She aimed Pinkie for it this time, hoping for a little recompense. But after the shock washed up her legs, she realized she’d sank right into the shadowy ground yet again. She thrashed her hooves against the snow in frustration.
A moonbeam hit her side, throwing her back. Pinkie arose in her path, widening into a squat stance, one hoof bare and tapping a catcher’s mitt affixed to the other. Right before she could catch her, however, Celestia projected a flare to send her recoiling.
By the time Pinkie was blinking away the spots, the queen was behind her. When she turned at the sound of her, Celestia grabbed the mask and tried to take it from her. “Let’s see how much of a problem you are without this!”
Pinkie stayed attached to it as best she could, rear hooves dragging streaks in the snow and slush Celestia was melting with her temper. Luna had another volley of bolts prepped, but couldn’t cleanly aim with the two of them pushing, pulling, and spinning about. Celestia kicked her in the stomach and yanked again. As Pinkie lurched, the mask pulled away by inches yet. Leaping at Celestia before it could get away, her wings flailed, little claws scratching at her.
The mask fumbled from Celestia’s grasp as she reached for her face. Red streaks ran across her eyes and she let out a curdling scream, only to be quickly silenced when lunar bolts pelted her all along her torso, each new magic strike rocking her back another step as she struggled to keep her footing. By the time she finally placed an aural bubble around herself, massive welts were already forming bruises along her shoulders and ribs and neck. She huffed, wrenching one eye open despite the stinging.
Luna circled one way. Pinkie put her mask back on and circled the other. They surrounded her. Waiting.
Celestia wiped her other eye clear and met Luna’s wary gaze. All her sister’s muscles were tense, her horn aglow, ready for her to try something else and counterattack. Instead, Celestia pointed up at her face and, in as pathetic a tone as she could, told her sister: “She nearly gouged my eyes out. Luna, look at me. Please, be reasonable, she’s too far g—”
“But she didn’t. Did she?” Luna let the charge run along her horn. The instant that bubble was gone, her sister would receive another volley.
“Yeah, ain’t I generous?” asked Pinkie facetiously.
Celestia blinked her eyes clear again and huffed. She frowned at her sister. That she didn’t seem to care hurt more than her eyes did. “Okay.” she muttered. “Fine.”
Pinkie and Luna both recoiled from another flash, Luna’s volley reactively firing off to fizzle out somewhere in the sky. When they noticed the empty space where she’d been in her little bubble, they met in the middle to pit their backs against each other. Looking this way and that, Luna said: “Careful. She could be anywhere.”
“Oui-oui, mon capitan.” said Pinkie, fidgeting in place as she searched.
Luna pursed her lip and glanced back at her. “I didn’t know you were bilingual.”
Pinkie shook her head at her. “Nah, sorry, I only like girls I’m afraid.”
Ears perking in surprise, she said with some consternation: “That is far and away not wh—”
“I command thee, yield!” shouted Celestia above them. From on high, the stars twinkled and glimmered more and more brightly.
Then, they realized those weren’t the stars at all. The ruddy sky burned with yellow flame, a burning rain of magic missiles sailing toward them. Luna conjured the shield again as they were assailed. It clattered like a roof in a hailstorm, buckling and crackling and sparking like it might fizzle out under the pressure.
“Do you trust me say yes please.” asked(?) Pinkie, latching onto Luna as she redoubled her shielding efforts.
“What does—” began Luna.
“Say yes say you trust me quick.”
The first webbing crack appeared in the aura Luna was projecting. Then another. Her shield would never last through this onslaught. “Yes,” she finally grunted, “I trust you.”
Pinkie latched onto her and pulled. A familiar stretching sensation tickled Luna’s mind as her body sank away, the two of them disappearing into the shadows her eclipse provided. It was like swimming, in a way, but with all the weight of your body somehow gone. She’d often wondered, once upon a time, if her mind could become completely lost like this, body never to resurface. It was odd how many magics she toyed with that might be able to do that to her.
For now, that mind was racing along, paying no mind to the errant sprays of snow as the barrage went on and on and on. As Pinkie dragged them along, their thoughts were layered right atop one another’s. They couldn’t help hearing them. It took a moment for them to figure it out and stop mentally muttering over one another. But once they’d gotten to a safe distance, a new plan was concocted.
Panting, Celestia descended to the ruined ground, dust and frost all flitting around her. Her hooves met the ground and she nearly sank to her knees. Glancing one way, and then the other, she found no sign of either of them. So she went to sleep, only for a quick moment—long enough to cast Twilight’s dream spell for tracking nightmares, and have it point the way for her. She then woke up and shook herself out.
“I’m sorry I lost my temper.” she said as she slowly shuffled further up the hill. Her voice echoing back was the only response she got. “Can’t we please talk about this? I just want what’s best for Equestria—really I do. I never wanted any of this.” Again her voice bounced back at her, joined by no others. The wind howled, tossing her mane. She shook her head.
“Luna.” Celestia begged to no avail. She waited. Still no answer. “Please. I’m sorry—I’m so sorry it has to be this way.” On she marched in silence. She began to wonder if she shouldn’t enter the dreams to refocus her direction.
There came a sparking noise behind her, and the queen whirled around to blast it. Her sunbeam destroyed an empty space quite effectively. Pensive, she gawked at the little smoldering crater. And as she began to amble forward once more, something unseen tripped her. She stumbled headlong into the snow.
Luna and Pinkie quickly rose above her. Desperately, Celestia aimed a sunbeam at the first one she could see. And then, absolutely nothing happened. The queen stole a glance at her horn—how it refused to glow—then noticed in those fleeting moments that the stones at Luna’s throat were aglow. The Element of Magic was denying Celestia hers.
She tried to roll up and thrash against them. Her flailing hooves kicked Luna a couple times, but Pinkie held her back before she could land more squarely. She reached over her shoulder and tossed Pinkie to the ground beside where she knelt, leaping to try and crash down on her, but Luna threw herself shoulder first into her, bowling her back over.
Celestia kicked, trying to sit up and buy space, but Luna avoided the attempt, planting hooves upon her shoulders to try and push her back down. She grabbed her sister’s hooves and rolled back, letting her greater mass pull her along. Up and over her own shoulders she rolled, landing on top of the grapple with snarling fury.
“I’m still the big sister.” she cried in anguish as she slammed her struggling sister back down hard. “I’ll always be bigger and stronger—I need to be to protect you—just please let me help.”
Pinkie rolled her wings, desperate for anything she had left. Her hooves reached out for several passing, flipping, and rolling handles. When they were finally able to latch onto one, she jumped at Celestia with the instrument arcing over their heads. Celestia noticed mere seconds before impact. She tried to recoil, but it was already too late.
Wuh-klank!
Celestia bounced up and swayed, dizzy but desperate to stay standing. She wouldn’t pass out—she couldn’t. But then the world turned sideways, blurry, and it all grew dark. She tried to shake it off, tried to push up, but found her head right back in the slush. The queen was unconscious. And in the unreachable distance of the horizon, the snaking tendrils of solar fire ceased their stretching beyond the eclipse. The light faded from the world, the evening-like skies growing darker. The stars twinkled their sleepy eyes down, a thousand distant watchers upon the shameful scene below.
Pinkie’s gaze quickly fell upon the metal baseball bat now bent woefully out of shape, its angle marked by a dent about the exact shape of Celestia’s brow. She bit her lip as it trembled in her grip. Quietly, she muttered: “Oh. I want to make a homerun joke so bad. But I really shouldn’t.”
Luna pushed herself up and gaped dumbstruck at her sister for a looooong moment. The image of her passed out on the ground like that shook her to her core. Partially, that such a sight was even possible was a great shock. Solemn, she reached deep within her and put the moon back in its place. Some small part of her wished she was still up there with it, and that perhaps this could have been avoided. At least the watchful eyes of the stars were gone back to sleep.
A pink hoof entered her field of view. Luna took it. Once stood upon her hooves, though, it wasn’t enough. She pulled back and wrapped herself tightly around Pinkie. “Stars above. Why did we have to do that? Why couldn’t she just listen to me?”
Pinkie rubbed Luna’s back, her own warming a touch as the moon sank back into its proper place. Gone for now until it was time for night to come anew. “I… don’t know. I’m real sorry I ruined things between you and your sister. Again.”
“It’s okay.” Luna held her just a little tighter. She wasn’t quite ready to let go. “Well. Rather, it isn’t okay, exactly, but it’s not your fault.”
Pinkie found that strangely difficult to believe. Resting her chin on Luna’s shoulder, she looked down again at what she’d done. Red ran across white, from coat to snow, as the queen’s still gritted teeth huffed out ragged breaths. Pinkie felt sick to her stomach. Which was strange. She’d imagined it would feel quite good, actually. The way she’d been talking to Luna, Pinkie had wanted nothing more than to take her down a peg. “This… isn’t fun anymore. I’m so sorry I wasn’t strong-willed enough to not get possessed in the first place.”
There it was. It was time to go. Luna pried Pinkie from where she clung to her. Looking her in the eyes, she said: “Then honor our agreement. Give this Nightmare back to me and be free.”
Pinkie pushed the mask back and looked up at her with sad, sad eyes. “I don’t know how.”
“Just say the words.” said Luna. She reached up and brushed curling magenta locks behind Pinkie’s ear. “As you did for me, I offer you my help. Say that you want it, and it’s yours.”
Pinkie hesitated. She fell back a step. “But what about you? I can’t let you be Nightmare Moon again.”
Luna closed the gap. “I promise you I’ll be fine. And I haven’t broken an oath to your witness yet, have I?”
“N-no, I guess not.” Pinkie tapped her chin, pondering.
“Then let me worry about what comes next.” Luna offered her hoof.
It took a long time of Pinkie considering it before she nodded slowly, and finally placed hers upon it. “Okay. Then… I want your help.”
“Thank you.” said Luna with a warm smile, her horn already aglow.
Then, the two of them fell asleep. And where they were laid out in the snow, snoozing all too peacefully after what they’d been through, their hooves brushed past one another as they softly muttered through the dreams. But would the dreams be sweet at last?
When Luna rose, she found herself back in the garden. Only, it was the garden from her distant memories. A starry blanket of night sky cozily wrapped overhead, sparkling like a geode of obsidian. The moon itself was massive where it hung motionless, perfectly center above it all. Looking around, she found the flowers alive and well once more, their seemingly ambient petals vibrant in the dulcet glow of moonlight.
As she brushed past them, feeling their delicate bodies bob and sway under her passing hoof, she mused aloud: “A surprisingly pleasant memory, this. Though the stars and moon were never so bright as such. Funny how even Nightmares can be capable of pleasant little lies.”
Not that Luna could blame the thing. She too was apparently quite the accomplished liar. But of course, she regretted lying. And moreso, she hated being any good at it. Moving right along, she figured she had best get this over with before a certain someone woke up from her forced nap and tried to intervene again.
At the garden’s center, she saw not the plinth, nor the marble depictions of her parents as the oh so magnanimous king and queen. In its place, there was a cascading fountain gushing forth a familiar ichor of inky dark. Therein lied her goal. But lying across a stone bench in between her and the fountain was none other than Pinkie Pie. Her hair was frizzed up and a right curly mess. Luna couldn’t help smiling, because it was really her.
Now, then, she just had to find a way to get around her and to the fountain.
Pinkie’s ear flickered at the sound of hooves rustling the floral scenery. She gazed over her shoulder where she lounged, and gave Luna a huge smile. “Hello, stranger.”
Luna winced, pausing in her tracks. “And hello to you. It’s… so good to see you again.”
Pinkie threw her hooves up and hopped over the back of the bench and made her way over. She didn’t care it hadn’t been so long since they’d last hugged. Her hooves brought Luna into her embrace anyway, wrapping tightly above and around her shoulders. “I… can’t wait for this to finally be over, haha…”
She felt Pinkie tremble in her hold, and Luna’s ears folded back. “Oh, Pinkie…” Patting her back, she tried to assuage: “It’s quite alright. We’ll finally get through this. Together.”
As she nodded, chin scraping Luna’s shoulder, Pinkie couldn’t help feeling at her sides. Though she couldn’t see them in the dream, she knew the stitches would leave nasty scars. “I’m so sorry for everything I did to you. I-I can’t believe how much I hurt you.”
The thought occurred to Luna to tell her she’d been hurt worse; that she had survived deadlier things than what she’d done to her. Somehow, this didn’t seem like something that would comfort her. “It’s alr—well, rather, you weren’t yourself, dear. I’m not upset with you.” She took a deep breath and let it go. “I’m going to fix this. It will all be alright.”
Letting her go at last, Pinkie wiped her eyes. “O-okay. What’s the plan?”
“To imbibe of darkness itself.” explained Luna as she slowly made her way over to the fountain. “A symbolic gesture in a land of symbols.” She couldn’t help noticing Pinkie kept pace with her, even as the shorter mare hiccupped. This wouldn’t do. “Ahem, though, the first time, it was a small pond. The, erm, fountain is new.”
Pinkie stopped beside her and the two of them stood before the fountain at last. They observed the liquid gushing into the cascading stone bowls of increasing size. It was absent color or light reflection, a shadow flowing like water. With the gentle babbling, it was almost a peaceful retreat. “So.” said Pinkie, gazing at it with streaked eyes. “I… guess this is it?”
“It would seem that it is.” droned Luna, side-eyeing her. The last thing she needed was for her to interfere. So she leaned over and took Pinkie’s chin. “Won’t you kiss me one last time? As goodbye?”
Pinkie blinked slowly up at her. A few new tears formed and rolled away as she reached up and held that hoof against her flushing cheek. “Does it have to be?”
Luna’s mouth went tight. “Only for now.”
Her eyes closed. She didn’t want to let Luna go. But hadn’t she already accepted her help? Even if it meant this? Finally, Pinkie nodded, and leaned in.
Luna leaned her head to one side and her eyes fluttered shut as well as their lips met in the middle. It was soft. It was delicate. It was warm. It was like lying amid the flowers on a summer’s eve. Heart aflutter, she knew she didn’t want to part. But part they did, locked eyes yet lingering. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” she replied. Then Luna’s hoof was taken out of hers. Her own fell away weakly as she sank to her wobbling knees. Looking on, all she could do was watch as Luna took one step toward the fountain, and then another.
Luna made her way to the fountain’s edge and briefly considered her odd reflection in the rippling shadow. It was as though a rough visage of Nightmare Moon was staring back at her from beyond the breach. As she threw her hair back to avoid it getting wet—not that she was even sure it could do that, but instinct was hard to fight—she lowered her head to drink and patiently thought: Just as planned for once.
Then she was yanked back by her tail.
Looking over her shoulder, Luna found Pinkie looking at her with wide, uncertain eyes, as though she herself wasn’t sure what she was doing. Either way, she asked: “Pinkie? What do you think you’re doing?”
Pinkie hesitated for entirely too long for either of their liking. “Um,” she droned, a prolonged moment of consternation, “I think I changed my mind?”
“And why would you do th—”
“Obviously because I don’t want you to turn back into Nightmare Moon—I don’t want to lose you forever, not before I get the chance to make it all up to you.” Pinkie covered her mouth, surprised by her own outburst.
Luna thought back to the waking world. Celestia was one of the toughest mares she’d ever known. She wouldn’t be out in the cold for too terribly long. “Well… you won’t lose me forever. So if you’ll just let go, I—”
“How can you say it, just like that? How do you know you won’t enjoy being evil again? I kinda did, and I never had any dark thoughts like yours.” She grimaced and added: “N-no offense.”
“Because I finally have people in my life worth fighting for again. It’s bolstered my willpower. So let me help you.” She tried again to get to the fountain.
Pinkie pushed in front of her, causing her to step back from the fountain’s edge. “But that’s what your sister just got done saying, isn’t it? That she knows better—that she’s just going to help. And she was wrong, wasn’t she?”
Luna bristled up a touch. She looked past her at the waiting goal. “This is far and away different. A-and you’ve already said you’d accept my help in this.”
“But you accepted my help first.” insisted Pinkie, leaning her head toward the rippling shadow. “I think I’m getting the hang of this, actually—I didn’t even think about stabbing you in that last hug, so, m-maybe I can handle this for you instead.”
Ironclad was the grip on Pinkie’s shoulder that brought her lurching away from the promises they were making to one another. “Listen to me, Pinkie. I’ve done this before, and longer than you. I have the willpower and restraint for it, moreso than you.”
Sneering slightly, Pinkie bat away one of the hooves from her shoulders. “So I’m not as strong as you? What happened to having gained newfound respect for me, to taking me seriously like I wanted?”
“I…” Luna held her tongue a moment yet. Stealing a look up, around, behind, then back again, she searched for any sign they were being watched; and more importantly, listened to. Then she leaned in with a hush and whispered conspiratorially: “It’s a fraction of my Nightmare—far weaker of will. It’s how you were able to push against its desires as much as you did. And I mean not to suggest myself better than you, but I certainly have more experience. Trust me when I say I can handle this without fully becoming Nightmare Moon once again.”
Pinkie watched her look about again, as if expecting the entire dream to crumble around them because she’d just said that out loud. Blinking, nonplussed, she asked: “So that’s it? That’s your plan? Hope this version is weaker than you so you can hold yourself back?”
“Yes?” uttered Luna in a somewhat offended tone. “We can’t eradicate it while it has someone, and you’ve seen firsthand how difficult it can be to shed the shadow.”
“Well, it’s a goofy plan.” said Pinkie, crossing her hooves. “Hardly solid at all.”
“I—mmf.” squeaked Luna as Pinkie reached up to cover her mouth. She narrowed her eyes.
“But it gives me a better idea.” Nodding back at the fountain, she asked: “What if we both drank? At the same time?”
When Luna got her speaking privileges returned, she simply gaped a moment with furrowed brows. “Wwwwwhat?”
“I’m serious.” said the least serious pony Luna had ever met. “If I was almost strong enough to overcome her worst, darkest desires, then between the two of us, it should a piece of cake.” She couldn’t help but smirk and add: “Though I tend to prefer pies. Not that I’m biased.”
A sound coughed up from Luna, almost mimicking the beginnings of a word. The next attempt caught in her throat as well. “This is… what you’re suggesting is unheard of—it’s absurd.”
Pinkie simply shrugged. “I’m a pretty absurd mare. But isn’t that what you like about me?”
“It is, but—rather, that’s not…” Luna shook herself out of it. “If the deal is compromised, don’t you think she’ll rebuke? It’s not how she wants this to end.”
Reaching up, Pinkie cupped Luna’s cheeks and pecked her quickly again. “You said to me over and over again that this isn’t her story, it’s ours. That we get to decide how it ends.” She pulled her down to get her a bit more at eye level. “I don’t have to just help you, and you don’t have to just help me, but we can be glad to help each other. Now hold my hoof, drink this shadow gunk with me, and let’s share weird nightmare powers. Because why not? It makes just as much sense as everything else about this kooky situation!”
Luna gulped. She did say that, didn’t she? Slowly nodding, she said: “I suppose I could give that a try. As long as it’s you.”
There it was. That sunny grin stretching ear to ear seemingly lit up the entire rest of the garden. Hooves joining, Pinkie beamed up at her as the two of them approached the stone lip of the cascading shadow fountain. Their rippling reflections looked so strange.
And Luna? Well. Luna despised lying. She especially hated being any good at it. So in the moments before she readied herself to shoulder check Pinkie, getting her out of the way so that she could accept this burden for her alone… she…
Luna adjusted her footing. This was it. She just had to throw her greater weight, and Pinkie would be moved aside with ease. Then she could… she could…
Looking down, Pinkie beamed so warmly up at her as she asked: “Ready?”
“Ready.” repeated Luna with a nod. Again she thought about going through with it. Again she thought about sparing her any of this, wishing she could have from them very start. As she hesitated, her friends’ words found her again.
A burden shared is a burden lightened. We should be real with each other and have each other’s backs; that’s what friends are for. Anything you need from us, any day of the week. Our lives are so much fuller and brighter with you in it so please… please come back to us.
As to Luna herself, she hated lying. So maybe this time, it didn’t have to be a lie. Maybe this time, she really could do right by her friends, on their terms and not simply her own. After all, wasn’t that what frustrated them? That she had claimed to want to be better for them, all while keeping them in the dark?
When Pinkie dipped her head, so too did Luna. They lapped at the darkness. It tasted like water. It was, of course, simply a symbolic gesture in the restful land of symbols. And it was a water fountain. What else would she expect it to taste like?
When Luna rose once more, her head ached so harshly, she imagined she’d been the one bludgeoned over the head. It was though her mind were fuller, and pressed tightly against her confining skull. If nothing else, certain distant memories—including a few she would have preferred stay forgotten—were now much clearer. Wryly, she mused: “Good to have you ba—ack!”
“Luna!” screamed Pinkie with glee as she threw herself at her. The two of them went tumbling through the snow. How she laughed and laughed.
“Pinkie? Is it you?” Luna sat up and assessed the funny mare. Her mane was all friz and curling locks. The mask had changed back into a necklace. Her smile and nod affirmed, and Luna felt like sobbing. “It’s over. It’s finally over.”
“Uh huh, and look, I even got to keep the wings just like I wanted.” Standing, Pinkie spread them wide to show them off. “Ah ha, this is so exciting! We’re Nightmare pals now, and Elements, and girlfriends, we can have the most weird and wonderful magical dates and—oh, crud, wait.” She let herself sink out of the air she’d leapt into for joy. There was an empty divet in the snow, with a trail leading away.
Luna shared a concerned look with her. “Right. We should… probably go talk to her, at least.”
Mouth tight, Pinkie fiddled with her hooves. “Yeah. If she’ll accept us.”
They pushed onto their hooves and trudged after the trail. At its end, they found a slumping, battered queen sat upon the edge of a steep decline, staring idly across the land stretching far away beneath. Clouds trawled by on the post dawn horizon, fading from funner colors to bog standard white.
Celestia startled somewhat when she finally heard the snow crunching beneath their hooves. She stayed that way, apprehensive yet. It was those eyes; Luna’s eyes had taken on an almost draconic visage to them. She otherwise seemed to be her sister, sorrowful and lamenting, despite those familiar, daunting eyes—the eyes of something that once resembled her sister and nearly spelled doom of everything the two of them had built.
Yet… they lacked that old look of hate she recalled, painfully clearly in distant memories of declarations of ruin. So Celestia’s shoulders sank right back down into place, slack as they were sore. She took a deep breath. “Luna? What exactly did you do?”
Luna gulped, realizing how odd this was about to sound. “I had thought to take on the shadow, thinking perhaps, if it’s but a piece, I might be able to keep it from controlling me. But, well…” She looked to Pinkie, who couldn’t help glancing at the new wings before nodding. “My friends keep insisting I not carry my burdens alone. So here we now are.”
“And this has worked? No other voice is overriding your own?” Perhaps she could not so much help grimace, given the state she was in. Hardly did she mean to be rude.
“I feel more or less like my old funny self again.” said Pinkie hugging herself. When she noticed her hooves and wings were both wrapping around her shoulders, she chuckled somewhat nervously. “Uh, definitely way more than not.”
Drawing a long breath, Luna closed her eyes and tried to feel all around the space behind them. “That familiar other voice is here, but it’s so much quieter. And… in fact, it’s… happier?”
Pinkie rested a hoof on her shoulder. “Yeah, like… it’s like the loneliness is gone? We’re good now. Or, well, better I guess.”
Celestia looked at one, then the other. Shame writ upon her face, she nodded once, heavy as the motion was pathetic. Slowly, she told them: “It… would appear I owe you quite the apology. Both of you.”
Luna couldn’t help feeling at her pulled stitches. But then she looked at Pinkie, then back at Celestia’s bruises and scratches. One of those purple eyes was half shut from a swollen eyelid. She wondered what point it was she’d caught her there with one of her kicks. With a heavy gulp, she said: “I think we’re all owed one here. Even you.”
Feeling at the swelling around the cracked skin of her brow, Celestia frowned. “No, I… I think I brought this one on myself.”
“Still.” stammered Pinkie, gripping her foreleg. “I’m really super sorry I did that, your grace. I’ll, er, make another apology card. A much bigger, fancier one this time.”
Her mouth was still. But as she imagined one with glitter glued to every inch of the inside, Celestia couldn’t help cracking a weak smirk. “I appreciate the thought.” Weak as the smile was, it was not long for this world, however. It faded like snow to her touch. Especially when she was mad. “But I… I nearly resigned you to a fate you could be saved from.”
“But, like…” Pinkie chewed on her lip. “You didn’t know I could be saved.”
“It was, rather admittedly, quite the leap of faith I was asking you for.” Luna cleared her throat. “To be perfectly fair.”
“One I should have granted you. You know of Nightmares far better than I, and…” Celestia’s frown deepened. “And you’re my sister. The only family I’ve left of those awful days we shared, I… Ahem. Look, I don’t expect forgiveness from either of you, simply because you regret wounding me. I was rash, and clinging to my duties rather than sense. I brought this about, so I don’t need your apologies.”
Luna watched her sister’s wistful gaze veer back for the landscape beyond, glowing golden in the rising sun. She found herself approaching. But she hesitated there, even as she wondered what exactly it was she was doing. Right as Celestia glanced, and perhaps thought to ask this herself, Luna gave into the instincts and hugged her.
“Oh.” croaked Celestia. Her own hooves went around Luna’s shoulders as she tried to breathe. The air shook through her and her vision went blurry. A single hiccup escaped and it was over. The tears were streaming, a fresh fall of rain to wash away the blood streaked snow. “I hardly think,” she sniffled, “that I deserve this.”
“Maybe you don’t.” agreed Luna quietly. “And… I suppose you weren’t wrong, about the needs and safety of the many. But you were wrong about her. And you were wrong about me.”
“I’m so sorry.” begged Celestia.
“I just need you to respect me, sister. And trust that I can handle things.” She shook her head. “But look, I’ve been terrible about this myself. I haven’t trusted that my friends could handle this magic guardian arrangement—that they wouldn’t understand the sort of mess I’ve caused. It almost cost me their friendship. I have been such a fool about this from the start. Moreso than you by half, so… don’t feel too bad, I suppose.”
Pinkie had let them be at first. Somehow, she felt it might be somewhat inappropriate of her to join this particular hug. Especially since she’d knocked one of the participants out with a bat. But that last bit drove her mad.
Luna lurched slightly as Pinkie threw into the hug behind her, whining: “Stop blaming yourself for everything already. I wouldn’t have gotten possessed if I hadn’t driven you away and gotten myself so down in the dumps. That was me, it was my fault, so… quit it!”
She couldn’t help wincing because the squeezing hurt her sides. But Luna found she didn’t care, and chuckled as two ponies clung to either side of her, sobbing across either shoulder. “Well,” she coughed, “I suppose we all have something to learn about respecting others. A-about taking them seriously…”
Still crying her eyes out, Celestia peered around Luna and tapped Pinkie’s nearest hoof. “I-I just want you to know there’s no hard feelings if I get a concussion.”
“Aw,” blubbered Pinkie, taking hold of that offered hoof, “and same for me if I have any cracked ribs.”
“You two, hic, are more than welcome to have holiday dinners at the castle.” Celestia blinked her eyes a little clearer. “Cadance for one would love that, a-and the other girls too, I’m sure.”
“That’s really sweet.” Pinkie’s quivering lips pulled into a smile. “But I was hoping Luna would meet my parents this Hearth’s Warming.”
Luna’s gaze snapped around at her and she regretted it instantly. Letting go of Celestia to hold her side, she asked: “Ahem, are we truly at the meeting family stage?”
“Why not?” asked Pinkie, running the back of her wing’s claw to streak the tears across her face. “I’ve met all of yours, even if under weird circumstance.”
“I think it’s sweet!” agreed Celestia. “Have you two given any thought to marriage, or children?”
Luna’s head whirled back around, and she winced again. Holding onto her sides, she said: “I need you two to stop saying embarrassing things now. It’s killing me faster than the actual fight.”
Pinkie giggled. When she noticed Celestia’s guffaw, she waved it off. “Anyway, it’s way too soon for all that. I figured we’d fool around for a year or two before getting too serious.”
“None of this has been all that serious to you?” asked Celestia churlishly.
“I did say I wasn’t that serious a mare, didn’t I?” Pinkie practically beamed when Celestia giggled.
“Oh,” droned Luna, mortified, “my goodness. I think I liked it better when you two were at each other’s throats.”
“Shh.” cooed Pinkie, rubbing her shoulder lovingly. “This is allllllll part of the healing process. Now then,” she said, turning back to Celestia, “I just know you have to have some great stories from when Luna was just a widdle filly.”
“Oh, honey, do I ever?” Celestia’s smile was bright and joyous despite the busted lip.
Luna looked on, chagrined, wondering how exactly she’d gotten here. Perhaps it wasn’t too late to shove the two of them over the ledge. But no, that wouldn’t work; they both could fly. With a sigh, she resigned herself to fate, laying herself back in a far more relaxed manner while they spoke and laughed. It was perhaps at her expense to a degree, but their words were still full of a love she couldn’t deny. She likewise couldn’t lie to herself.
A smile ran across her face. She was more at ease than she’d been since her return to Equestria. And at last, she held some confidence in her heart that it might actually stay this way this time. For the first time all season, she looked forward to tomorrow.
Author's Note
Okay time's up, let's check those bets.
We'll probably get a short chapter to wrap up the main story proper. But after that, I want to do a short series of little blurb epilogues tying up other loose ends for fun.
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Part 23: Tomorrow. The sun will rise again tomorrow.
Minutes had gone by since the eclipse had faded, allowing the sun to burn as intended. The mares present in the old, dried out garden paced about, every worst case scenario playing out slightly differently across each unique imagination. And every new result was sobering, or terrifying, or filled them with dread. And just when they thought they couldn’t stand it any longer, a blue flash drew them back to the garden’s heart.
Luna tried to lower Pinkie, who simply rolled her eyes and turned the motion back around on her, setting her down on the empty plinth to rest. Despite the protests and hissed breath through gritted teeth, Pinkie pulled her jacket open to inspect her bandaged chest. “Stop acting tough, ya big lug. We should…”
Luna was looking beyond her shoulder, mouth straight. Pinkie peered back to find tense mares gathering around with great apprehension, their nervous caution like writs as they lowered into pounce-ready stances, or aimed their horns. Luna spoke up first: “Girls. It’s okay. Everything,” she sighed with much relief, despite the pain she felt, “is okay now.”
Eyes all around flicked this way and that to share in uncertainty yet, a wave of blues and purples and greens washing across them and then back again. The eyes, Luna realized—it was the eyes. She hadn’t had a chance to see for herself, but she felt at them, wondering how they’d changed. And of course, Luna thought dourly, they need a reason to trust me again, don’t they?
The princesses pressed in between the other Elements and came forth. Twilight ran a spell across one of them while Sunset caught the other. A moment after exchanging confused looks, they swapped targets. Twilight spoke up first: “I don’t understand. You both seem to have signs of Nightmare presence on you.”
“Yeah and what happened to you?” Sunset looked a little closer at Luna in particular. She was no less wary, but neither was she any less concerned by the sorry sight slumped before her. “You look like you were hit by a wagon.”
Luna tapped her hooves together pensively. “My sister and I had a little… disagreement.”
“Dude.” blurted Rainbow, intoning some small offense. “You said you’d come get us if she didn’t wanna talk it out.”
“I did.” Luna nodded weakly, feeling at the sore side of her face. “And I should have brought you along to begin with. But she’s my sister; I wanted to be the one to handle her.” Tugging at her jacket, she risked a glance at her seeping bandages, adding: “That was foolish of me.”
“Good thing I had your back.” Pinkie playfully nudged her.
“Holy crud, your sister did that to ya?” asked Applejack.
“I thought you two had made amends though.” added Rarity.
Rainbow snorted: “If you’d’ve brought me, I—”
“Girls.” interjected Twilight. Her eyes were wild as she motioned for them to simmer down before tensely returning her gaze to Luna. “I still don’t understand why we’re detecting Nightmares in both of you.”
“Nightmare.” corrected Luna nervously. “There’s still only the one. And we’re… how do I explain this?”
“We’re sharing it.” spoke up Pinkie.
“What?” asked Twilight aloud, mirroring the confused sentiments forming around her. She bristled up, wondering what, exactly, she should do with this information.
Luna held up her hooves in the most disarming fashion she could manage. Pinkie took up the same stance at her side as she explained: “Its will was weaker than that of its original, fuller form, so, well, between the two of us—”
“I-it can’t take control,” stammered Pinkie, joining her defense, “it can’t make us do anymore messed up stuff—”
“And it feels much calmer,” added Luna quickly, “like it’s happier now, so—”
Sunset raised a hoof. “Girls, please slow down. This is a lot to take in all at once.” Turning, she asked: “Twilight, what do you think?”
“It’s all very unprecedented.” said Twilight, never taking her eyes off them even as she shook her head. Shrugging, she added: “But then, Nightmare possession isn’t exactly a well documented phenomenon to begin with. No reason it shouldn’t be possible, conceptually. I think…”
Seeing the confused faces of her nervous friends, Pinkie tried to fold her new wings back as if she could hide them. She stammered out: “You gotta believe me, I’m normal again.” When she realized exactly what she’d just said, she pursed with thought and tapped her chin. “Well, okay I was never all that normal, but—”
“Did you really mean it?” Fluttershy stepped forward, staring straight at Pinkie. “What you said about not wanting to mess with me—not wanting to hurt me?”
Pinkie glanced again at the others before meeting her eye-to-eye. After a moment, she said: “Yes. As bad as I got, I just couldn’t let myself hurt you especially. You’re way too nice—too good and kind for all this. I…” She looked away and gripped at her shoulder. Her wings were fidgeting; she still wasn’t used to how they moved according to her emotions, so it was awkward. Her gaze faltered more, but she managed to add: “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop myself better, for the rest of you. Especially for the princess, and my best f—oof.”
She felt somepony push against her and wrap around tight. It was such a warm feeling in the cool autumn morn. A single hiccup escaped her as Pinkie pat the hugger across the shoulder.
“O-oh, Fluttershy, I don’t deserve a hug, but—”
“I’m not hugging you.” said Fluttershy sweetly and amused at the same time.
Looking to the side, Pinkie saw it was true. She finally realized the one embracing her was sky blue. A single tear rolled with a quiet burble of laughter. “It’s good to see you too, Rainbow.”
“It really is you!” Dash played with her bouncy magenta hair.
“It really is.” Pinkie absently repeated, now far more at ease.
“I’m so sorry, dude.” croaked Rainbow. “I shoulda looked for you after the concert, if I had found you, maybe—”
“No, no, none of that.” Pinkie rubbed her back a touch before pulling her back to kiss her on the forehead. “I’ve had enough of the blame claim game today, thanks. Luna blames herself, you blame yourself, I blame myself? Let’s just stop and enjoy that it’s over for now.”
Rainbow combed her wind-whipped, colorful bangs aside and cleared her throat. “Okay, ahem, yeah, sure. It’s whatever, man. Just…” She trembled ever so slightly. “I-it’s so good to have my best pal back, okay?”
Fluttershy held back no longer. She launched herself at the two of them, wrapping them up with her wider wingspan and lankier legs. Her eyes watered and she sniffled.
“Oh, c’mon, Flutters.” complained Rainbow weakly, wriggling in her hold ever so slightly. Not that she wasn’t strong enough to overcome Fluttershy; she simply didn’t feel like it at the moment. “If you cry, you’re gonna make me cry.”
Speaking of crying, an already blubbering Rarity threw herself into the mix. She’d left the sword behind, along with any silly notions of maintaining an air of dignity. “It’s over,” she said with shaking shoulders, “it’s finally over.”
Rainbow started to protest anew, despite her own vision beginning to blur. Applejack ambled over and joined in, telling her: “Hush up and let it out, girl. We’re all feelin’ it.”
Rainbow thought of half a dozen snappy responses, but let each one go. If there were any ponies she could let see through the bluster, it was them. She allowed herself to cry a little. It was nice to let go.
Luna looked on and smiled. Sunset then drew her attention with a hoof placed upon her shoulder. “You’re really sure about all this? This is the solution you want?”
“Yeah,” added Twilight sluggishly, “loathe as I am to undermine your judgment, this could be some long term ploy, no? Wh-what if it’s trying to bide its time to build power enough to overtake you?”
Luna quietly pondered that a moment before flashing a vicious smile up at the nervous lavender mare, her newly draconic eyes narrowing in a playful smugness. “And when that day comes to pass, I hope it will be you to put me down. Don’t let Sunset do it, she won’t get it right.”
Twilight’s eyes went wide, as though she thought her completely serious. Luna belted out a laugh hearty enough to immediately regret it and grip at her chest. Sunset leaned over between them and said: “Girl. Really?”
“Yes, really. You rely too much on energy beams.” Luna gently pushed on her chin to point at Twilight. “She’ll use her penchant for teleportation to grapple me into submission. I’d prefer a more intimate defeat if it’s all the same to you.”
“Would you please take this seriously?” asked Twilight a little more sternly.
“My apologies if I’m ruffling your feathers, dear.” With a broad smile, she gave Twilight a more level gaze. “I’ve taken things much too seriously for much too long. I want to enjoy myself more.”
“Gee,” mused Sunset with a ride of her rakish brow, “I wonder who influenced you to say that.”
Luna gently pushed away her now churlish face once again, smirking as the princess chuckled. Meeting Twilight’s concerned eyes again, she told her: “But yes. While this was not my ideal solution, it seems to work for us. And I’m absolutely certain the tricks and deceptions are over.”
“Absolutely is… very certain.” Twilight considered her carefully, measuring how much trust to have in her words. She wanted to give every ounce of it, but those eyes were hard to meet. She’d seen them upon so many tapestries and paintings—the eyes of a bitter mare turned monster and portent of doom.
Luna placed a hoof over her heart and felt its thudding. “It’s hard to describe. But it feels so much more at peace now. It knows it can’t overtake us now, but it’s… it feels almost happy to be accepted—to be a welcome part of us.”
Twilight hesitated. “Just like that?” She rolled her uninjured hoof. “All that effort to get at you, all the fighting, and it’s over?”
“It sounds strange. And it is. We’re an odd pair of mares, certainly.” Luna nodded over at Pinkie showing off her wings for the girls. “Perhaps, being a smaller piece, its will simply is that well bent to ours. It could also be that it missed being a part of me in particular, acting out because of it, and now that we are…”
“Interesting.” said Sunset after Luna trailed off to ruminate. “I suppose, as long as you feel in control, then we can call this over and done.”
Twilight searched the ground at her feet, the moments passing her by, brows still somewhat knit in consternation. “But—”
“Luna.” Rainbow interrupted without realizing as she ambled over. She took Luna’s hoof in both of hers and shook it, seeing as a hug was probably out of the question for the time being. “Listen, I just wanted to say I’m real sorry for how I’ve acted during all of this.”
“Rainbow.” said Luna softly, weakly. “You and the others had every right to be upset with me.”
“I mean, sure, I guess. I didn’t have to go so hard, though.” She held Luna’s hoof closer to her chest. “Anyhow, thanks a million for bringing my best friend back. Hope we can be cool again and you’ll be my second best.”
“A spot above Gilda? You honor me.” Luna’s teeth gleamed in the morning light when she donned a teasing smile.
Rainbow was a touch surprised, but quickly matched Luna’s churlish expression. “The two of you can call it a tie. Though I think she might be the better singer, sorry to say.”
“You wound me.” said Luna as if she weren’t literally already wounded. When Rainbow’s snicker subsided, she pulled her against her shoulder and held her gently. “Thanks for giving me a second chance, though. I really mean it.”
Rainbow pat her back, trying to be mindful of the poor gal’s ribs. “O-oh, er, it’s no biggie, dude. You’re not perfect, but… you make good on your promises.”
“I’ll try to keep doing so, and do right by you girls. No more dark secrets. Oh, and I should probably train everypony on how to use their Elements. Maybe it could be on the days we hold book club and—”
“Well, I think you should rest up first. You’ve been through a lot to save one ours, so take her easy for a bit, huh?” Rainbow held her shoulder as they parted.
Luna glanced past her. Pinkie was giggling as Fluttershy felt the fine white fur on her new wings, and Rarity was looking her over, doubtless trying to come up with new additions to her wardrobe to suit her changed looks. Looking back at Rainbow, she told her: “No, I think she saved me just as much as I did her.”
Tomorrow had yet to come. Luna’s eye flung open from a brief doze. A certain someone had thrown back the curtain between their hospital beds, and the clinking rings had roused her. “Mmng?” She rubbed the drowsiness from one eye. “Yes, Pinkie?”
“I’m sorry. I can’t sleep.” Pinkie sheepishly tapped her hooves together.
“I can. Goodnight.” She closed her eyes again.
“Wh—aw, hey, c’mon.” whined Pinkie.
“Kidding,” said Luna, bemused, “I’m only kidding.” She didn’t dare turn over in bed. Her sides hurt too much. They’d had to redo all the stitch work, and she was regretting not taking her first prescription of bedrest. It brought back memories of battle, and soldiers getting sewn up just enough to fight again, only she was more the fool for not taking her time. For the moment, shifting a hoof over toward her would have to suffice. “What’s on your mind?”
Pinkie’s hooves were still fidgeting together. “We had to spend so long today explaining our… little arrangement to everyone, and getting patched up. I never got to ask you. Are we… good?”
Mouth slightly agape, Luna thought for a few sleepy blinks. “You know, I think you put it rather eloquently earlier. We might not be good, exactly, as we are now. But we’re certainly far better.”
“I guess so.” Pinkie thought to leave it at that. But she lingered at the edge of Luna’s bed yet. “Do you think we’ll ever be good again?”
“All we can do is try.” Fumbling for it, she found Pinkie’s hoof and tapped it gently. “I’m willing to make the attempt if you are.”
Pinkie took the hoof and held it in both of hers. “Then… thanks for giving me a second chance.”
“Why shouldn’t I offer you one?” Luna smiled weakly through the drowsiness. “Or my sister, for that matter? The world saw fit to give me one, despite everything I’d done. And you’ve seen what that entails now.”
Pinkie looked her over a bit more soberly. After a moment, she said: “I have.”
Luna felt Pinkie’s eyes weigh heavily upon her. “Do you have some small fear of me? Now that you fully understand what I am?”
“No.” said Pinkie without hesitation. “Because that’s not who you want to be. Your past is not who you are.”
“But it will always be here with me.” Luna pointed at her changed pupils, widened oval shapes in the low light. Her hoof then pointed out Pinkie’s new wings. “It will be here with us.”
Pursing her lips in thought, Pinkie nodded. “Then we’ll just have to try extra hard to be better—to be good. Together.” With a wink, she added: “I’ll keep you in check if you do the same for me.”
“Certainly.” said Luna with a soft smile. “Though, I don’t think that will be hard for you. You already did so much just to put a smile on your neighbors’ faces.”
“Oh, pshaw. I just… liked making folks happy. Even if I come across as a weirdo in the process.”
“Nonsense. I think I should take inspiration, if anything.” She stifled a yawn.
Pinkie smiled back at her. Then, it slowly twisted with burning curiosity. “And what about what your sis said this morning? Think we’ll ever get there?”
Luna didn’t react quite so viscerally as before. All the better for her own health. “I honestly don’t know. I’d never thought about such things, especially having any children.”
Pinkie shrugged. “Neither did I. But then, I never thought I’d find a mare who’d put up with me long enough to consider it.”
“My, what an honor.” teased Luna. She let Pinkie’s light laughter subside before adding: “At any rate, let’s call it a no for now.”
“Yeah.” agreed Pinkie, scratching the back of her neck. “I don’t think I’m ready for that kind of commitment. Uh, on both of those, I mean.”
“But,” suggested Luna cautiously, “let us also never say never. If we can make this work, who knows? We may yet change our minds after a few years.”
Pinkie considered her very carefully for a long, quiet moment. “You’d really go through all that with me?”
Luna finally shifted her head over on her pillow to properly meet her eyes. “Yes,” she mused, “I think I would. In due time, of course—we’ve only been together for about a month or two, after all.”
Pinkie drew a long breath and let it go. “That’s a future us problem I guess, but… I suppose I could. If it was you I was with when I was ready.”
“That really means a lot to me.” Luna pat her hoof again.
“And you mean a lot to me.” Pinkie took the hoof in both of hers. They stayed just like that, quiet for a few minutes.
Luna yawned again, wincing slightly. “Speaking of future us, how about we reconvene in the morning? I haven’t slept particularly well during all of this.”
“Okay.” agreed Pinkie. She leaned over and gave her a quick peck on her brow. “Goodnight, Luna.”
“Goodnight, Pinkie.”
The curtains clinked closed again. Weariness tugged at Luna’s mind, full and racing as it was. Sleep found her easily enough, and she fell into a deep slumber. And when back in the land of errant thoughts, she dreamed again of the rolling seas of golden wheat they’d pass by train.
Pinkie found her watching that very train humming by in the distance, gathered bundles held aplenty by her folded wings. Shooting her an amused, though somewhat incredulous look, she said: “This is a rather mundane dream, don’t you think?”
Luna smiled at her and simply shrugged. “Mundane, perhaps; very much so. But isn’t it peaceful?”
“It is.” agreed Pinkie, straw hat wobbling in the summer breeze. “Even better that it’s here with you.”
She took the gathered wheat from her and tossed it aside. This was but a dream, so why should they work through it? She plopped down and tapped the spot next to her. “Then let’s take it easy. We have all the time in the world here.”
The following morning, the two of them were looked over for any complications that might warrant a further stint, then duly checked out once none were found. When the nurse at the front desk made a passing joke about seeing the two of them again next season, their laughter was a touch stiff. Luna was saying how she looked forward to not needing the bandages so she could take a long, hot bath as they headed out. And out the front door, a big surprise was waiting for them. Emphasis on big.
Galahad sat on the side of the street with surprisingly good posture, given the injuries along her back. And despite the sharpness of her smile, there was quite a warmth to it. With a slight nod, she told them: “And good morrow, you two.”
“Galahad?” Luna reached out and touched her huge claw fondly. “It’s so good to see you up and about.”
Pinkie, meanwhile, leapt up to hug the space where that great, wide neck met shoulder. “Miss Galahad, I am so, so sorry I blasted you with the Elements!”
“Pish.” uttered the dragon with nonchalance. She scooped Pinkie up with her claw and coaxed her up onto her shoulders. “I’ll shed the melted scales soon enough and all will be right as rain. ‘Tis but an inconvenience for now.”
Stumbling across her shifting shoulders, Pinkie could already see the glimmering cracks in the smeared plates of scorched slag. They’d been strategically snapped at certain spots to allow the dragon her movement unhindered. “Wow, they took good care of you, huh?”
“Just so.” said Galahad with a smirk, nodding her affirmation.
“Still, I’m sorry for—”
“Stuff and nonsense.” Gal snorted with a little less patience as this went on. Looking down at Luna, she said: “Besides, you’re hardly the first pony friend I’ve done battle against. It’s nearly a rite of passage at this point.”
Luna fondly recalled the two of them whiling away hours at a time sharing their respective tales of past triumphs and tribulations. Smiling up at her, she said: “I really appreciate you coming by to speak with us.”
Galahad laid her claw out, palm up before Luna. “Well, I did indeed want the chance to catch up. But there’s more to my presence than my own desires. Come.”
Luna was taken slightly aback, wondering what this could mean. But then, she was with two people she had utmost trust in, so her worries subsided quickly enough. She sat next to Pinkie across her broad, draconic shoulders, and off they went.
The day was a deal past dawn by then, so plenty of Ponyville denizens were awake and ready to start their day. Their plans and chores and jobs, however, could wait, they decided. Upon seeing a great glittering beast with two returning members of the community, scathed but ultimately safe and sound, they dropped everything to form up at the streets’ edges to wave. Halfway through the trip, it was an impromptu parade. Someone had even gone and bought a couple bouquets, passed them around, and they were tossing the individual flowers for them.
Luna wore a smile, but Pinkie could easily see how fake it was. She whispered to her: “Still don’t like being the local hero?”
Leaning over, Luna told her: “I can’t imagine they’d be cheering my name if they knew just how spectacularly I failed along the way.”
“But you succeeded in the end.” said Pinkie with a shrug. “That’s what they care about. Two of their favorite local ponies came back to them, and it’s still thanks to you.”
Luna’s brow began to knit inward as it was wont to do when she had plenty of attention she didn’t seek out. “Perhaps. Though, the problem was also my doing. Doesn’t that matter to them? How can they—”
“It wasn’t your fault alone, and if you don’t stop thinking that way, I’ll give them another reason to cheer.” Pinkie nudged her playfully. “It will be very embarrassing. You will hate it.”
“How do y—” started Luna. But when she saw the churlish grin, she got the picture. Narrowing her eyes, Luna said: “Oh, you wouldn’t dare.”
“Wouldn’t I?” she asked, tone oozing with the hopes Luna would challenge her further.
Cheeks flushing, Luna looked the other way. “Fine, dear. I’ll not dwell if you promise not to make us the subject of yet more gossip.”
Looking away herself, Pinkie crossed her hooves and wondered aloud: “How do I tell her the gossip is already out there? Hmm.”
“Hence why I said ‘more’ gossip.” said Luna, chagrined. As she turned back round, she found herself face to face with Pinkie, their snouts mere inches apart. “Oh. Hello there.”
Pinkie peeked out of the corner of her eye at the little throng of hooting ponies hoping to see a kiss. She rolled her eyes before unfolding her wing to screen their faces from the onlookers. A chuckle escaped her as they hollered just that tiny bit more excitedly. “This is for me, not them.”
Luna let her softly peck her lips before parting. She looked at the blushing mare trying to play it off, twirling an errant curl of mane. Smirking, Luna said: “Of course you know this means I get to keep on griping.”
Pinkie smacked her forehead.
The trip ended at the library. They could spy the gathered crowd from cresting the hill in the final stretch. Absolutely everyone was there; mayor Mare, the other Elements and their little sisters (or sister adjacent in Scootaloo’s case), Gilda, Trixie, Calypso, Hope, Ruby, Marble, the bandmates of Lined Lips. And at the gathering’s head, Twilight, Sunset, and even her sister opened their hooves and claws to welcome Luna home.
Something about seeing Celestia here, beaming despite the trouncing she’d received, tugged on Luna’ heartstrings. In some small way, she finally felt accepted.
The entire local block had come out to see what involved so much sitting royalty, and cheered uproariously from street corners and and windowsills. Nevermind that not that long ago, they’d been cheering instead for these very two returning ponies to have at each other in their pitched duel.
Twilight announced their return, so the two of them bowed and waved to the crowd. “Sunset and I have helped out where we can,” she told them as the other Elements went to help them down, “but the bulk of salvation was done by the Elements themselves. Especially Luna.”
Luna bristled up as they applauded her. When she found a gap to speak in, she told them all: “This was far and away not simply my doing. I couldn’t have gotten this far without my friends. And Twilight—your majesty, I should say, your tracking spell was paramount to success. Not to mention, I would have been caught completely unawares had it not been for princess Sunset.”
The call of the crowd was a wash of incredulity and playful jeering. They didn’t want her modesty, they wanted their local hero. Glancing back, the others involved in her prior plan even added to the applause, despite the danger they found themselves in because of her. She couldn’t stop the bittersweet smile forming across her face. It was almost too much to bear when she saw her sister match it.
“At any rate,” she told them as they simmered down again, “it’s just good to be home again. I look forward to being your neighbor and librarian once more. Thank you all for having me as such.”
Celestia made her way over and hugged her sister dearly. She was ginger in her touch, minding her sides. It was certainly a change from the day prior. She whispered: “Sorry to put you on the spot. I thought it might be good to show your hometown that everything is okay now.”
Luna nodded, quietly telling her: “Everything only is if you are. Things got a little tense yesterday, to say the least of it.”
Pulling apart, the queen said: “Now you stop that. That was my doing. I forced your move, and I never want to again.”
Brushing her mane away from where it hid the queen’s bruised brow, Luna sighed. “I still could have tried harder to escape. Surely I could have avoided—”
“Enough.” interrupted Celestia. She pulled her sister in to kiss one cheek, then the other. “I promise to try my best to respect your choices and capabilities and never pit you against me again. I love you so, little sister.”
“And I love you too, big sister.” Luna’s heart swelled in her chest as she realized she really meant it—that happily, there was no quiet voice prodding the back of her now more occupied mind that this was some convenient lie to get closer, all in service to some ulterior plan. Her joy and her love were fully hers, and mirrored and accepted by that which had reshaped her eyes once more.
Celestia moved to take over the crowd, telling them that her little sister was due for some rest. She ushered the others to lead her away while she kept their rapt attention with tales of the tiny blue filly she fondly recalled chasing after her heels through Everfree castle, and how proud she was of the mare she’d turned into.
As the group made its way for her arboreal home, Hope sidled up to say: “Get your bedrest, Luna. Let me and Ruby take care of the library for now.”
“Thanks, you two.” Luna replied, smile weak but fond, as she wasn’t about to argue back at the moment.
Gilda came up and nudged Pinkie. “And hey, I just wanted to say thanks. You got me into acting to mess with me, but I guess I actually kinda enjoyed it. Who knew?”
Pinkie rested a wing across the griffin’s shoulder. “Hey, I’m glad I accidentally helped you find a new passion. No hard feelings?”
“Only if you won’t hold a grudge over how I acted at your party.” said Gilda with a firm nod. They shook on it.
Sunset leaned over to Twilight as the mayor gave Luna a floral wreath across her shoulders, much to the crowd’s enjoyment. Her seafoam eyes were glad as they were dogged. “I am just happy all of this is finally over.”
“I hear you.” said Twilight. She shuffled closer by and nudged her. “And hey, maybe you and Luna will finally get a chance to get along now too.”
Sunset watched Luna bow to the crowd one more time, their applause washing over her. After a moment, she told Twilight: “Yeah. I think I’d like that.”
Luna’s friends walked her upstairs to find her window had been repaired. They then told her to get into bed and get some rest. She didn’t need much convincing, for her aches, but the offers of getting her the books she’d been meaning to catch up on and some water to drink didn’t hurt her feelings one little bit. Pinkie leaned over to pat the little lamb doll, pleasantly surprised Luna still had it. She then pecked the mare of the hour on the cheek.
On their way out, the girls told Luna to contact any one of them if she needed anything at all. And with that, they left her one by one, Pinkie lingering the longest, thinking up every different way she could say goodbye for the time being. What sweet sorrow parting wrought, after all they’d been through. But she had work to catch up on, even if it was mostly at her own insistence, rather than the Cakes’.
In time, the door was closed with a soft click. She was alone in the quiet of a peaceful morning at long last. Peering out the window at the sunny skies, Luna took a long breath and let it go as she eased back into her stack of pillows.
Her magic grip pulled over the first novel of the bunch, and she happily pried it open. Reading on was a touch tricky, as her mind swam with the musings of what her future could look like. And yet she found she didn’t mind the distraction at all.
Tomorrow had finally come. And for once, it was such a beautiful sight.
The End
Author's Note
Okay you may have noticed this go up a while ago and then go away. I published it thinking it fine, but that night hopped out of bed to unpublish because I decided actually hated it. Certain characters weren't present at all that I thought should be, some things weren't pointed out or addressed that felt just plain off. It's not the short sweet wrap-up I wanted but it also needed to at least include some of these things, I felt. I'm much happier with this version even though I was trying to keep it on the shorter side.
God this project has been a lot. Thanks for sticking with it even when I wasn't cranking out a chapter a week. I do have plans for an epilogue with some little vignettes to wrap up a couple loose threads on the side, but the core plot of this trilogy is finally done...
To the friends we've made along the way...
Brightwick watched on, enamored, as Luna bowed for the crowd one last time and disappeared into the library to rest after her adventure. And while she did not hold any negative feelings toward her queen, she found Celestia’s pretty speech of little interest. In due time, it was over.
The crowd began to disperse, once the queen and her coterie of princesses bid them farewell. The excitement was over, and it was time to return to their daily lives. Wick waited on the nearest corner, eyeing the door for her friends. That’s where Diamond and Silver found her.
“They’re gone, aren’t they?” panted Silver.
“Aw, we missed it.” pouted Diamond, head hanging in resigned sorrow.
Wick opened her mouth to regretfully confirm, but the door opening across the street stole all of their attention away. Folks began filing out, and when Applebloom saw them, she waved over. Wick waved back, and was surprised to find Diamond and Silver doing much the same, excited smiles upon their faces. It seemed that grudges were fast fading in light of gossiping over the local heroes.
Once the trio got permission, they joined them across the street. Bloom, Belle, and Scoot all took turns relaying how “nifty,” “beauteous,” or “totally sweet” it was to be so close to the visiting royals. And of course, the town heroes.
Wick, Diamond, and Silver were positively green with envy. They rambled and they bickered on. Scootaloo was certain the queen was hiding injuries she’d received, and Wick joined in, the two arguing over who must’ve hit harder in the sisters’ duel. Applebloom and Diamond suggested Pinkie must have helped. Sweetie Belle and Silver meanwhile, were far more convinced they’d called it, that love broke the curse over Pinkie’s head.
“Hang on. If the curse is broken, how come she still has those bat wings?” Brightwick scratched her head.
“Come to think of it,” pondered Applebloom, “my big sis said not to worry about Luna’s eyes none. They look pretty darn different though, don’t they?”
Diamond pursed with thought and intrigue. “How do you mean?”
“They’re kinda spooky looking.” chimed in Belle.
Scootaloo let out a loud gasp. “Wait, I remember now. They look just like how her eyes are in the storybooks, in her Nightmare Moon form!”
“Girl.” said Silver teasingly. “You still read those old mare’s tales?”
“I don’t still read them.” protested Scoot, nose wrinkled in a sour expression. “I remembered them being read to me. C’mon, Silver.”
“Okay, sorry, I didn’t really mean it.” She reached out and nudged Scootaloo. “I was only playing.”
“Well, also,” added Sweetie Belle, “Nightmare Moon is in a lot of Nightmare Night decorations. And her eyes really are just like that now.”
“Oh,” said Silver far more sheepishly, “yeah, you’re right.”
“What do you think it means?” pondered Brightwick aloud while Silver more quietly gave Scootaloo a better apology.
Diamond Tiara leaned in, a devilish look on her face. Drawing them in, she donned a more conspiratorial hush. “Pinkie could be heading back to her job at Sugarcube Corner. We could always go straight to the source.” Smiling more pleasantly, she then added: “Plus, we could get some treats. I’m starved and they have the best ice cream sandwiches. Way better than those cheap, prepacked ones.”
“I’m a little hungry myself.” Applebloom admitted with a smirk. Ponderously, she decided upon one caveat: “But could we get some real sandwiches first though? I can’t just eat nothin’ but sweets, that’s too much sugar for me.”
Placing a hoof across her shoulder, Diamond said: “Oh young, little Bloom. You’ll have to learn how to really party if you’re gonna hang out with me. There is nothing but sweets at my birthdays.” Try as she might, that unimpressed look wore her down. “Ahem, but, you know, I could always make sure an exception happens. For a friend, I mean.”
“Gee,” said Applebloom, tilting her head to one side, “ain’t that just so swell of ya.”
Grimacing, Diamond bristled. “Okay. I deserve that.” Tapping her hooves together tepidly, it took her a moment to work up to say: “But… you will come to my next birthday party, though. Right?”
Scootaloo sidled up beside Applebloom, leaning on one shoulder. “This goes for the three of us, right?”
“Yeah, even though we’re blank flanks?” teased Sweetie, taking up Bloom’s other shoulder.
The little pink filly flushed with embarrassment and rolled her eyes. “Obviously.”
Before any further smart remarks could be made, Silver tossed herself at Sweetie and squeezed her tight. “Yay, you’re in! I’ll finally have somepony else to gossip with.”
“You didn’t need her permission to be my friend but okay!” Sweetie Belle matched her giddy excitement, much to the chagrin of the others watching them bounce in place.
Applebloom smacked her forehead and pointed at Brightwick. “Shoot, can she get an invite too? I’m awful sorry, Wick, I didn’t try to forget about you.”
Brightwick’s brows rose. “Oh, I’ve been going to Diamond’s parties.” When she watched Applebloom and Scootalo’s jaws hang open in shock, she turned to remind them of the burning burgundy candle on her flank. “I already got my cutie mark, remember?”
After the uproar settled down, the girls all huddled together and pooled their allowances to see if they had enough to get both kinds of sandwiches for each filly present. Diamond and Silver made up the slight shortage and assured the others they didn’t mind. What else were friends for?
As they made their way up the hill, Brightwick stole one last look back at the library. Perhaps she hoped to catch a glimpse of Luna through one of the windows, though she wasn’t sure if she expected to see the stalwart hero, or the battered librarian. Either way, this had been the most exciting start to a weekend in some time.
... and to the tomorrows yet to come.
Pinkie Pie splashed cold water across her face. She felt a little silly in doing so when she heard the cool winds whistling outside the washroom window. Sighing, she dabbed herself dry with an unassuming gray towel. It was just as well she took off the makeup before coming home, because this simply would have smeared it. Catching her reflection glimpsing back at her, she imagined what a sorry clown she’d look like then.
It was a pretty funny thought, though, so she managed a soft chuckle. The laughter didn’t last. Not long enough, it never did. Because here she was again, another Hearth’s Warming dinner at home, hiding away from her parents.
A nervous tapping sounded from the door. Pinkie didn’t respond at first, so Luna’s voice quietly followed: “Is everything alright?”
“Yeah.” said Pinkie Pie with little in the way of conviction. A little firmer, she added: “It’s fine.”
Luna could be heard not leaving, much to Pinkie’s chagrin. After a moment, she asked: “Mind if I come in?”
“It’s a little cramped,” said Pinkie, easing away from the sink, “but sure.”
Luna tugged on the latch and pushed in. As she closed the door behind her and made to turn, her horn caught against the wall. She tried to stand, only to realize there wasn’t enough headroom to raise up all the way. The doorways had been one thing to duck beneath as she’d been moving about, but this was another. “Ah. I see you weren’t kidding.”
“Not this time, I’m afraid. We never got a lot of tall guests.” Pinkie reached up; some of Luna’s mane got mussed up as she moved about, so she fixed it behind her ear for her. As she was about to let go, she realized something, and continued to play with her hair. “Your mane has gotten kinda long and shaggy, babe.”
Luna looked down at her somewhat nonplussed. Leaning into the frame of the mirror, she examined it, a touch humdrum. “So much has been happening since I returned, I haven’t had a chance to…” She pursed at the roughening ends, how they frayed ever so slightly. “I’ve done what I can, but you’re right, I need a cut.”
Tugging on her chin, Pinkie told her: “No, no, I kinda like it. Though, feel free to not take hair care advice from me of all mares, hahaha!”
Smirking, Luna looked her up and down as that infectious laughter subsided. Their smiles faded at the same rate. “You weren’t hiding away in here to worry about your mane, dear. Talk to me.”
Meeting her eyes, Pinkie hesitated. At last, a wry smirk graced her. “You know, it’s funny how much better things went for lunch at the castle. We literally beat the tar out of your sister, and that felt less painful and awkward than this.”
“I’m afraid I don’t think she’s in the mood for a rematch, this being a holiday about togetherness and all.” Luna snickered as that incredulous, bemused look washed over her. “At any rate, I’m… sorry if your parents seem disapproving of us. I… suppose it is rather strange, after all.”
Again, Pinkie glanced forlornly off into the mirror. “It’s not just that. In fact, I’m not totally sure that’s a factor, surprisingly. I think it’s me—how I’ve changed. And, I dunno, maybe they blame you for that too a little.”
Luna looked at her with sad eyes, unsure what to say right away. So Pinkie went on, crossing her hooves.
“They’re so hard to read, sometimes. It’s why I had to get outta here. That, and I always had way too much energy for them.”
“Do you find Maud hard to read?” asked Luna with an arched brow. She had her own answer, to be sure, but wanted to hear Pinkie’s. “Do you ever feel like you have too much energy for her?”
Looking up from the simple tiles of the floor, Pinkie met her eyes, ponderously and pensively so. “No,” she said at last, “she always got me. She was my best friend growing up.”
Luna nodded and pat her shoulder. “We can stay for her, if you’d like. I know you were looking forward to seeing her again. But my offer is still on the table if you’re not feeling up to this.”
Pinkie gawked up at Luna’s horn. All she had to do was give the word, and a spark of magic would whisk them away from this awkward mess. Perhaps that would be far more preferable; hadn’t Applejack and Fluttershy both said they were welcome? Certainly, neither would mind the extra company, now that their respective guests were gone. It had been surprising to see how hard it was for them to say goodbye.
In the end, Pinkie shook her head. “I had to face them eventually.”
“I suppose.” Luna said pensively, her wings fidgeting ever so slightly.
“Let’s get back out there,” said Pinkie, taking Luna’s hooves into her own, “and we’ll keep being unapologetically our weird selves. My parents will just have to learn to like it like my sisters.”
“Just don’t forget.” Luna nodded towards the mirror and lowered herself into the frame next to her. They stared at each other and themselves in equal parts. “The wings are new, but you’re still you. We’re still us.”
With an askew frown, Pinkie couldn’t help glancing at Luna’s wing, knowing that just beneath the folded appendage was a nasty scar she’d left her. Perhaps it pained her no longer, but it would always be there, a streak of hewn flesh to remind them of the violent urges she found herself relishing in. Even now, some soft voice at the back of her mind chuckled about it.
The amusement faded to forlorn regret all too easily, however. Her inner train of thought apologized to itself, and she looked at the mirror again. That wasn’t who she was anymore, and she never wanted to be that person again. In that way, her heart sang a harmony with Luna’s, who knew that feeling better than anyone she could ever talk to about it. Finding her reflection, she looked long and hard at that pony across from her.
She was not the mare she was. She was better.
“You’re right,” said Pinkie with a smile, “I’m still me.”
Author's Note
Sorry this took way longer than it should have considering. Rennovations and moving in happened, c'est la vie.
But... that's it. That's the end. A slight lie, I did get halfway through another blurb with more side characters showing how they were getting on, but it felt wrong to not end on that exact line with Pinkie. So I cut the extras.
Thanks for coming along with me as I flounder through this journey on and off these last four years. It's been an excellent learning experience and I'm hoping I walk away from it a better writer. There are some rough patches and concepts looking back I would simply remove if I had to do it over again, tbh. Not the huge cast though, I love huge casts, I love coming up with characters for fantasy settings it's fun even if they only show up incidentally once, and it helps the setting feel lived in I feel, seeing all these different people and tiny glimpses into their lives outside the purview of our central characters. I think that element in particular feels a bit more refined later on. Certainly better than the time I totally forgot to ever include Plumheart ever again, LOL.
But is this the END the end???
So, it's a maybe for now. But don't hold me to it.
Thank you for your time, and goodnight.
Prologue: When shadows grow.
A legend exists, told to all those who wander out past sunset. It is said that on that fateful day so long ago, queen Celestia was reluctant to fight the monster her little sister had become. In that reluctance, she held back the full weight of her might, even when dealing the final blow.
Seeing a gap in her conviction, a small portion of Nightmare Moon’s essence was able to escape the lunar banishment. And when Celestia abandoned their old castle once again, it was left alone to wander the empty halls and bide its time. To this very day, it skulks out from the ancient castle grounds once Celestia’s watchful sun has set, looking to stalk unsuspecting foals who don’t mind their parents.
A soft rain began to fall, and Sunset Shimmer stepped between the pillars of the crumbling castle, long forgotten by the rest of the world. Through a gracious hole in the walling, she watched the sun sink beneath the dark clouds to make for the horizon. And she found herself wondering why it was she suddenly remembered this silly fairytale her own parents would tell her now and again when putting her to bed.
“What am I even doing out here?” she asked of no one in particular. With a shake of her head, she found some rubble to sit on, and placed her slumping chin into her hooves.
The part she didn’t want to say out loud, even if she felt she was alone, was that she was hoping that in snooping around the ancestral home of the royal alicorn sisters, she might be able to pick out some dirt on Luna. She still felt so off about her, how everyone seemed fine with adulating, and pretending the doom she once spelled for Equestria never happened.
“Am I doing the right thing?” Unslouching her head, she looked at her hooves. What happened to all this patience and temperance garbage Celestia taught her, and then made her the avatar of? Maybe it was never really there at all, and she had just been good at faking it, as long as the accolades kept coming. So when they started going to another--no, worse yet, when the affections of the one who looked up to her most, admired her the most, when that went to her, it boiled her blood to a froth.
Had all her ire simply been misplaced? She hadn’t even given Luna a chance. Luna, who was the first, and loudest one to remind others of the sins of her past. Sunset’s lip trembled, revealing gritted teeth. “She didn’t make a fool out of me, I did this to myself.” She sighed, frustrations turning inward. “Maybe Celestia was wrong about me, all along.”
Sunset stood up. It would be dusk soon, and Canterlot castle would be missing her. Twilight would be missing her. Drawing her hood up tight, she made a silent promise to herself to set things right, and maybe have some difficult conversations of her own.
That’s when she saw it, from the corner of her eye. It was this shrouded shape of a figure with sad white eyes that oozed downward like an everflowing font of melting wax. In deafening silence, it seemingly stood on its lack of feet, watching from a crumbling doorway. The hallway beyond the portal was so dark, she hadn’t noticed this shadowy, ambiguous shape. And turning to face it, she couldn’t help but gasp as her heart leapt into her throat.
She soon wished she hadn’t let this thing get so close, however. Darkness bled out from all around it, and quickly covered her up when she tried to take off. Struggle as she might, her muscles strained for naught. Her vision faded as inky black of and unknowable abyss blotted out all of her senses. The hearing, though, that remained, for a brief, bitter moment.
The voice sounded as though it once demanded respect and authority. But now, it was angry, sorrowful, and desperate all at once. It seemed to echo off the fading bricks, overtaking the patter of rain. Coldly, it said to her: “Relax. I only need to borrow you for a little while. Let me strengthen my connection to her, and you can be on your way.”
All else faded. There was no sight. There were no sounds. And just as Sunset thought she might not be able to breathe any longer, she gasped, rising to a cool, dark room. The room, in fact, was her own. She was in bed, panting, cold sweat on her brow. With a start, she told herself: “D-dream. It was just a dream. I’m fine.”
Something did not sit right with that explanation, though. Even as Sunset tried to lie back down and convince herself, something was off. A few minutes passed, and sleep refused to find her again. That horrid dripping rang louder than it ever should. So she sat up in bed, throwing off the sheets to go inspect. Her eyes darted around as they became used to the dark.
When she noticed the dark, nebulous shape slumped over her desk, panic set in all over again. Sunset calmed her frantic heart, though. The shape did not move. So she cast forth a minor orb of light. This revealed the inky blob for what it was this time: her rain slicked cloak, dripping water onto the floorboards.
The gears turned. Canterlot had no rain scheduled today, but the weather above the Everfree Forest, that always had a mind all its own. And there, this afternoon, it surely rained. She remembered.
“But why can’t I remember anything else?” she groaned, straining her aching head. Her temples pulsed with pain. “W-wait… ‘Strengthen my connection to her?’ What does…”
Sunset’s eyes went wide with horror. The legend, it must be true. Which means there was only one mare that little message could have been meant for. She ran her hooves through her messy head of hair, and squeaked: “What have I done?”
Bolting for her door, Sunset threw it open with a slam. She dashed by a very confused pair of castle guards on her way to Twilight’s room. Twilight was the smartest mare she knew, and an expert in the arcane. If anyone could help her fix this, it was her.
Soon enough, though, Twilight would not be the only mare due for an unpleasant awakening…
Author's Note
Here's a taste. Get hype. But not too hype. Because I'm taking a break. The last bit of Unfurled felt a bit rushed as I tried to finally zoom to the end, and I think I'm a little burned out. So I'm sorry folks, but this is all I've got in me for now. Do stay tuned, though. I'm hoping to sorta break away from the original gimmick with Unbound, and try to make this story a little more my own from here.
Part 12: Sins come out in the night.
Ruby rubbed at her eyes as she got the box of Sadjelin black tea blend down from the cupboard with one easy flap of her wings. She set the box down beside her mother as the burner clicked to life under the kettle.
“How was the play?” asked Marble, fiddling with the box.
Ruby paused, three cups gathered in her hooves. Setting them out one by one, she said: “Pretty good, actually. Longer than I expected.”
Marble shrugged her broad shoulders. “Some of the best plays are the ones that are three hours long.”
“Have you been to a lot of plays then?” asked Ruby, watching her set a bag into each cup before giving the box back to her.
“Many of them I saw vicariously, I suppose.” She pulled a drawer open to get some spoons. “You know, while I was guarding royalty or nobility, and they really wanted to see these productions with all the accolades.”
Ruby placed the sugar container down on the counter. “Any of them earn that kind of praise?”
Sterner looking than usual, Marble thought rather hard about this. “I’d definitely watch Fiddler on the Hoof again. The songs stuck with me, and the bottle dance is quite impressive.”
“Oh yeah?” Ruby leaned against the counter, propping up on her elbow.
The water would take a few minutes, so Marble left it for now. She turned to her daughter, pointing to the top of her head. “A whole team of dancers balance half empty wine bottles on their heads, and dance and step around on their knees, then on two legs. It’s really something to behold if they get it right.”
“It sure sounds like it.” said Ruby, impressed by the idea already.
“Maybe if it comes back to Canterlot in the spring, I’ll take you.” offered Marble.
“Really?” Ruby beamed with surprise. She smiled up at her mother and Marble smiled back.
Marble took a moment to check the water. There were a few errant bubbles, but it wasn’t ready. She sighed, glancing at her daughter. “You know… maybe this has been good for us. Shadow problem aside.”
Ruby blinked at her a moment. “Oh?”
Marble thought back with regret to how she’d protested the queen assigning both of them to this job. But Celestia, in her wisdom, said Ruby had already made some amount of emotional connection with her sister, and that would make it easier to accept the two of them. And she had been right, of course. Celestia had an uncanny ability to be surprisingly right an awful lot; or so it seemed from her years in her service.
“Just,” began Marble, “things between us were probably going to go on like that. You would have kept being miserable trying to meet my expectations. And. Well. I suppose the change of scenery and making new friends outside of the guard helped you.”
Ruby twiddled her hooves together and chewed on her lip. She wasn’t sure what to say to that, so simply said nothing.
“I know I reacted poorly to the idea of you moving. It’s hard letting go.” Marble looked at those curly locks and thought back to the girl’s father and how she missed him every day. “But if we get back to Canterlot after this assignment and you still want that, I’ll help you pack.”
She looked up at her mother’s eyes. They were the softest she’d probably ever seen them, even since they lost her dad. “Thanks, mom. I really appreciate that.”
Marble nodded slowly, then offered a hoof to shake on it. To her surprise, Ruby grabbed it and pulled herself around her large frame as best she could in a hug. She stiffened up at the gesture but tried not to protest. For Ruby’s sake.
By the time Ruby let go, the water was bubbling nicely along, steam billowing from the kettle. Marble killed the heat and went to pour their tea. “So. Are you thinking of moving in with that Hope-Heart girl?”
Ruby’s ears shot and her pinkish red cheeks turned dark crimson. “Mom!”
“I just want to know, that’s all. She seemed pretty upset when she thought her sister was hitting on you.” Marble set the kettle aside and reached for the sugar.
“Oh my gosh, we’ve gone on two dates. It’s way too soon for that.” Ruby hid her mortified face away in her hooves.
“Never too early to start planning for the future.” Marble told her while spooning sugar. “Speaking of, do you think she’ll want kids?”
Her embarrassed face sprang up to gape at her. “You’re kidding me right now.”
Marble shrugged, bemused in her own subdued way. “There are ways. And I certainly wouldn’t mind a grandkid I could spoil rotten. You could even adopt a griff-chick, I’d love that.”
“A baby griffin, mom?” While still exhausted by this entire exchange, that part added confusion to the mix.
“What can I say, they’re adorable. Their baby feathers are so airy and fuzzy, they look like balls of fluff.”
Stifling a snicker and a grimace both, Ruby made for the kitchen exit, so very done with this conversation. “Okay, I think that’s enough of that. Let me go get Luna and let’s have some tea and pretend you didn’t just say any of that last part. For her sake. And mine.”
Marble chuckled, shaking her head. “Stranger arrangements have been made. If I recall, princess Twilight adopted that cute little chubby dra—”
There came a boom from upstairs. The light above them flickered. They each whirled in place to exchange a brief look of panic. The tea was forgotten immediately, and they bolted.
Ruby shot around the corner and flew up the stairs, Marble thundering close behind. There was screaming—two distinct voices—but she couldn’t make out any words just yet. Was that something about playing? She got to the bedroom door and threw it open in time to see Luna hurl some unknown figure crashing through the window and took off after it. “Luna, wait!”
They were too late. Both of them were gone. The magic white flames licking one section of wall drew their attention next.
“I’ll chase after her;” she blurted, moving quickly, “mom, can you get the fire?” Ruby began to take off but was snagged back. Wrenching her head back around, she saw her mother’s consternated face. There had only ever been one other time she’d seen those eyes so wide and pleading.
“No. You can’t, I—we just started getting better, I don’t want to risk you!”
Ruby held her strong, but shaking hoof in her own. “I can fly after them. You can’t. I’ll keep my distance, but please, I have to do this for her. A-and for myself.” Her wings fidgeted and trembled, with fear and anticipation. “Let me go.”
Marble stared at her, mouth tight. Her eyes shut, and her bared teeth showed. “Okay.” she said at last. “Okay, Ruby. Go. I… I’m so proud of the young mare you’ve turned out to be.”
The magic grip faded and Ruby was free at last. Out the broken window she went, off into the dark mystery that awaited her in the night. The air was cold, the bristling leaves of the greatwood falling away behind as she looked around. All that greeted her at first were the stars peeking around the drifting clouds, and a waning moon hanging pale in the heavens.
“Surrrrrrprise!”
There came a flapping sound, and turning, she caught a pale figure rising behind her from just out of the corner of her eye. A hammerhead of some sort blocked out her vision, coming down too fast for her to react. She clamped her eyes shut, trying to at least brace herself for the hurt.
Wham!
When Ruby opened her eyes again, she found Luna at her side, aural shield catching the sledgehammer that looked to have been aimed for her head. When she blinked, that smiling mask seemed to be frowning now.
“Aw, c’mon. There’s no real stakes if I can’t hurt at least one character.” whined Pinkie. She spun around, slamming the other side of the magic shield, her mask smiling now. “Let’s compromise, then. I’ll kill one off, but they get to come back later. I’m sure there’s some artifact under Canterlot Castle we can borrow to make this work.”
Ruby swallowed thickly, really feeling the windchill up here. She had just gotten in so very over her head. Suddenly, she actually missed that armor she hated wearing; especially the helmet. Then, the world went spinning all around her. When it stopped, she found herself wobbling on the ground next to Luna, who seemed to be standing taller than she usually was.
She hardly recognized the alicorn. There was no fire Ruby could see, but she practically felt heat emanating off her. Those furious eyes glanced sideways at her, and she froze in place.
“Stay here.” commanded Luna before again locking her gaze and ire upon the giggling phantom haunting the skies above them. “I won’t let her hurt you, but stay out of this. She’s my responsibility.”
Before Ruby could summon a response, or the confidence to deliver it, Luna screamed skyward, a spiraling missile glowing whiter and hotter with each yard of air she blinked through. Watching her go, Ruby felt like her legs might give out under her. What exactly had she been planning to do out here?
Luna was blazing like a star by the time she veered into a crash course with Pinkie. Instead of getting out of the way, Pinkie made to fly toward her, as if she planned to meet head on. Then, at the last possible second, gave one good lash with her new wings, bounding up and over her. She planted her hooves briefly on Luna’s spinning body as she went by, as though vaulting over a simple obstacle.
“Missed me, missed me, now ya gotta kiss me.” she chanted in as intentionally irritating a tone as she could. She even blew raspberries.
Fires fading, Luna steadied herself on the air. Shooting a nasty look, she said: “Nay. Ne’er again I think our lips shall meet.”
The frowning mask took over again. “There you go again. You know, for somepony who supposedly abandoned royalty, you sure love talking like a drama queen.”
“I am what I am, beast. Could you say the same?” She lifted her chin to look down her nose at her. It was something she would never have done to the real Pinkie. Luna never imagined herself better than her, or that she ought to do more to earn her respect. Even if she did lose a lot of it after the Gala.
“I’m exactly what you made me.” said Nightmare Pinkie oh so coyly, venom and honey both dripping off her words as her hooves went out at her sides.
Unimpressed, Luna shook her head. Although, part of her couldn’t help wondering if that taunt had come from the shadow or the mare who’d been made to wear it. Surely she hadn’t been unfair to her. Pushing it aside, she presented her horn. A beam of lunar light sprang toward her.
Pinkie darted in under the beam, flying forth like a bird of prey to get at her next meal. Once she was close enough, Luna beat her wings to hop above her path, tucking her legs in kicking down upon the Nightmare as she flew under her. Pinkie went diving down, so Luna lashed her horn this way, then that. Burning white arcs went screaming, crackling, and hissing towards Pinkie.
Hearing them coming, Pinkie looked up through her flailing hooves. She turned her wings, spiraling her fall to dodge the first one. One hoof went to her mouth, and she blew a kiss to the second. The scything, surging magic dissipated into a swarm of fluttering butterflies, their glow already fading away. Luck ran out for the third, and the flame cut across her mask as she tried to turn about to find it, sending her flipping back, end over end. Her white wings violently beat the air, ceasing her nauseating descent at last. The back of her hoof ran across the scorched streak of gold.
Luna then flipped forward in place, letting loose silvery blue bolts of magic, seemingly in every direction except toward the Nightmare. Pinkie watched them fly away, then slowly begin to curve back around, arcing for her in the longest path possible. Her foe, meanwhile, took a more direct approach. What a fun gambit. She clicked her front hooves together, then spread them out to catch her tackle. The two of them went hurdling out of the skies, punching through layers of cloud as they went, each party vying to dominate the other through sheer brute strength.
“This isn’t how I pictured our first roll around would go.” chuckled Pinkie through the grunts of effort coming from the two of them. “Or even our first argument, for that matter.”
“I’ve battled your true form before.” spat Luna through gritted teeth. “And won.”
“Then why am I still here?”
“You are but a shadow of a shadow! Weak and insignificant, and I’ll break you apart from her and obliterate your sorry existence!”
“Careful you don’t break her first.” she told Luna before letting go of their grapple, then clinging tightly to her torso. Her magic missiles were nearly here, and she aimed to make sure they’d both be hurting.
Luna grimaced as the shining bolts entered her spinning vision. She couldn’t break away in time, so huffed, and put up another shield. It buckled and reverberated with thump after thump of magic catching on magic.
Pinkie caressed the small of Luna’s back. “I knew you still cared about me.”
“I… o-of course I still…” It was tender, her touch soft, and it was warm; it was so much of what Luna desired. But it wasn’t right. It wasn’t her—not entirely. Shoving her away, the two beat their wings to land hard across the cobbles, skidding in opposite directions, their backs turned to one another.
Pinkie rose on shaking legs, craning her head back to howl with laughter. “Oh, ha ha, oh man, that was fun.”
“It doesn’t have to be this way.” Luna’s voice echoed across the empty street. By now, lights were coming on, with curious heads stealing a peek to see what the noise and yelling was about. Having an audience bothered her. It was also not good for them either; any spells that went wide could be disastrous. She had to find a way to get clear. “It never did.”
The two of them leered at one another over their shoulders. Her mask frowning once more, Nightmare told her: “You should have thought about that all those ages ago before reaching out to me.” She spun about, and the mask smiled. Pinkie said: “Or before you involved me and all my friends in your centuries spanning drama.”
Luna’s entire body rippled with offense. “That’s hardly fair. They didn’t have to join m—”
“As if.” interrupted Pinkie. The mask frowned. “You were so pathetic and weak and too scared to fight your own battles. You needed us—you needed me, to be there to hold your hoof every step of the way; otherwise you would have kept crying in the dusty old library like a sorry little filly.”
Her cheeks burning maroon, Luna launched herself at her again. She flicked her horn to one side, summoning lashing strands of magic. Another twist of her head mid-flight sent them whipping towards her opponent, hoping to lacerate or ensnare, whichever came first.
“Aw, what’sa matter, did I strike a nerve?!” The taunt passed through the golden smile as Pinkie dipped under the crackling whip, spun round and flipped backwards, final word landing with her rear hoof hammering down, cleanly cracking in between Luna’s shoulder blades.
Luna went face first into the cobblestone, her chin scraping along from the last of her drained momentum. Though winded, she wearily pushed up and felt at her raw and roughed up chin and jaw. Then the movement in the corner of her eye sent her spinning across the ground. That sledgehammer from before sent gravel high into the air, right on the spot where her head had just been. She panted, gaping up as the heavy metal head was wrenched from the stone and whirled around for another attempt.
“Hey Luna!” cried Pinkie, springing after her. “Did you know that an expression considered to be amusingly accurate is called hitting the nail on the head?!”
Her powder blue hair whirred in the after breeze of another miss. Desperate azure eyes followed its path as the hammerhead arced behind Pinkie’s shoulders, went up, and started coming back down. The only good thing about an overhead swing was that it was at least somewhat predictable. Her horn flared with energy; she slid to the side and leaned forth.
A burning slice raced up as Pinkie’s hammer came down. The haft bounced harmlessly off the street as she watched the heavy metal head go skipping away, almost daintily so. Looking at the burned end piece and Luna’s horn alight with lunar flame, she quickly pieced it together. As soon as she did, Luna was lurching toward her, and planted her hooves into her chest. She went skidding back along her hooves, trying to stay upright but losing the now useless tool which clattered to the side.
Luna leapt high to the left, beating her wings in opposite directions to send herself into a full body rounding double hoof hammer kick. Pinkie barely managed to stay upright, throwing her hooves up, braced together, catching the blow with a deafening crack, her whole body shuddering from the impact. Luna cursed and flew back several paces, landing in a wide stance.
Pinkie whistled and shook her stinging hooves. She felt she had to commend her. “Not bad.”
“You’re quite the fighter yourself.” said Luna, dusting herself off. Something was terribly wrong, though. As another breath hissed through her teeth, she realized she was smiling… Was she having fun? Wouldn’t that be absurd—had any of those hammer swings struck home, she might not have woken up from it.
“Stars above, I love you.” huffed Pinkie, drawing a startled, surprised face. The two stared at one another, panting in place.
“C’mon, Luna!” came a squeaky shout above them. Peering up, they saw a salt white filly with burgundy hair leaning nearly her entire body out the window of her second story bedroom. It was none other than little Brightwick. “You’re the coolest, toughest librarian ever! No way this monster can beat you!”
All around them, the opened rowhouse windows were filling out with rambunctious faces. Shouts rang up and fumbled over each other, all cheering her on. The ruckus even drew the town guard, amidst wich ran Marble and Ruby onto the scene. Upon gauging what the noise was about, however, the guards all nervously eyed one another, wondering if they should even try to intervene. After all, if Luna was clashing with something, then this must be the stuff of demigods. Clearly above their paygrade, surely
When Pinkie turned back to face Luna, there was a bitterness to the real smile beneath the fake one. She threw her hooves out at her sides, telling her: “Well. Here’s your audience. Do what you’ve always wanted, and be their beloved hero.”
Luna hesitated, muscles suddenly tense with nerves. In these last few moments, her anger seemed to have left her. Though, she had a good idea of why.
“Go on. Slay the vile monster.” She looked at Luna expectantly, who simply took a nervous step back, suddenly getting stagefright. Shaking her head, she said: “Bit of advice, while I’m still amicable: don’t get their excitement up if you’re not going to capitalize on it. But here, I’ll give you a helping hoof, for pity’s sake.”
“Go get her, Luna!” cried a voice as Pinkie tumbled forth, sliding under her to deliver a pair of kicks to her gut, knocking air and spit from her shocked face.
“Wait.” coughed Luna, stumbling to the side. Instead of waiting, politely, Pinkie bounded up into the air, rounding about with a spinning kick across her scuffed up jaw. “Stop.” she cried again as she tried to stay upright on her hooves and bring her face back around. The response she got was having her nose bloodied by a headbutt. A metallic clang rang out over the chants and they faded away; Luna began to fall with them.
Pinkie hooted with another bout of laughter as Luna sat down hard upon the street, only managing to halfway look up into her eyes, vision clearly dazed and bleary. She began a pirouette, spinning for momentum, and hopped into a rear kick aimed heavily right for Luna’s slack jawed mouth. But then a thickset frame wearing reddish pink tackled her, and the two went tumbling off and away.
Marble offered a hoof. Taking it, Luna grunted back up and onto her feet. She licked her unscathed lips, tasting the salty red rivulets streaming hot from her nostrils. It was a sickening flavor, yet all too familiar. Again, she smiled, wryly and ruefully so. A yelp drew her attention in time to see Pinkie wrestling Ruby to the ground, stretching foreleg out awkwardly, painfully, the Nightmare calling: “Tap out. Go on, tap out.”
Whining through a face tightly wound, Ruby pushed out her free hoof and smacked the ground repeatedly. Relief washed over her as Pinkie actually let her go. She scurried away when she was off her.
Marble tried to keep her expression level. “You did well, dear. Now it’s my turn.” Turning to the guards, she barked: “Guards! I am Royal Knight-Captain Marble Glade of the queensguard, and I’m taking command of this situation! At my side, now!”
They balked. One even shook her head at her. Pinkie laughed at them, and a few took a step back.
“A-are you foals? Or adults? Come now.” Marble peered back at Nightmare Pinkie, who waved at them dreamily with an extended “yoohoo.” Marble gestured at her and said: “That’s what you’re all so afraid of?”
“Forgive them.” huffed Luna, still shaking it off. “They’re afraid because she just beat their local hero senseless.” She stepped toward Pinkie. “But we all have our parts to play. I guess I’ll have to accept mine.”
“How enigmatic.” cooed Pinkie, clapping for her. “How noble and benign and good of you and definitely not for the sake of your own fragile ego.” She turned her neck one way, then the other, then rolled her shoulders, trying to stretch and limber back up. “An ego I’ll gladly break again and again. Come on, then.”
“This is my fault. My problem to solve.” Luna shook her head then widened her stance. “Let it be my battle to wage.”
Marble stepped up next to her, hoof patting her shoulder. “One small problem. She just hurt my little girl.”
A dry laugh bubbled out of Luna. “But you’re not angry she’s hurt me? And here I thought you wanted us to be friends.”
“We still could be, in time. But don’t make me second guess this.” Marble rolled her eyes.
Luna studied the sturdy, hardened unicorn. She hadn’t exactly been her favorite person in the world, but the look of her now spoke to Luna in a language they both spoke fluently. She offered a hoof, and when Marble clicked it with her own, Luna told her: “Together, then.”
Pinkie hummed at the scene, seemingly enraptured, drinking it in. “Oh, such passion. I love it.”
Marble was first to decide that there had been enough talk. Her armor gleamed softly in the moonlight as she took one step forth. Then, she was a blur, dust and broken bits of cobble rising in her wake. Pinkie danced aside, the barreling rush missing her, so Marble slid along, turning in her skid, raising her front hooves up, and slamming them down. Stone erupted from where Pinkie landed, post dodge, sending her flying into the air without the need for wings.
As Pinkie flailed about, she found Luna above her, horn charging. A concentrated beam of moonlight landed squarely in her chest, striking her right back down into the pillar that Marble had conjured. Fragments of rock and stone flew apart from the impact.
Even as she tried to rise from the crater, Marble was leaping above her, about to slam down hard. Pinkie rolled out from under the hooves before they could land, but tremors rolled out around them, sending her tumbling across the cobbles, struggling to stay on her hooves for more than half a second. Marble meanwhile, passed over the rippling stone with ease, slowly making her way toward her, energy charging steadily on her horn.
In a desperate bid, Pinkie pushed away with another little quake rising, and as she did, produced a heavy black iron ball, which she tossed at her aggressor. The thing hit the trembling ground before Marble with a thick clink. That’s when she noticed the hissing fuse already sizzling away its last inch or so. She recoiled, trying to take cover, losing concentration over her magic.
A loud pop sounded off before all the ducking ponies. When curious eyes peeked again, brightly colored smoke was billowing in the street, with even more brightly colored confetti flitting through it. A silhouette formed in the smoke, so, thinking quickly, Marble launched a chunk of stone into the cloud, aiming as best she could for the chest.
The knight’s eyes went wide when she heard Luna’s surprised yell of pain. Jumping back onto her feet, she began searching for the Nightmare creature.
Pinkie found her first, darting from the left while she looked right. Hitting her side, she wrapped her hooves tightly round her waist, then used her wings to help lift up, and roll back through the air. The back of Marble’s shoulders and neck crashed into the busted up street, and she faltered over onto her side.
Groaning, Marble looked up to see she’d found a new hammer at some point, and the head was coming down fast. She tried to wrench herself away, but crashing contact was coming on too fast. She shut her eyes and thanked her lucky stars she’d at least gotten to share a couple healthy conversations with her daughter.
Squeak!
The shiny hammerhead crinkled in on itself upon impact and squeaked like a toy. Marble looked up, shocked, befuddled, panting. Pinkie tossed it aside and started cackling like a witch. It squeaked again and fell over. “Oh, oh man, the look on your face! I coulda won, but that was so worth it, hoo.”
“Wh—” wheezed Marble, “I don’t understand.”
“You wouldn’t,” said Pinkie with a shrug, “but trust me, comedy is king. We needed a little levity t—” She paused to assess a streak of pale blue energy snaking around her chest and waist. “Hey what now? I just said—hurk!”
Luna took off, yanking Pinkie along behind her.
White, blazing magic formed around her as she spun faster and faster. She became a comet of silver and blue and pink, racing for the clouds, only to skim them and veer back for earth which seemed to approach them now at dizzying speeds and even more dizzying rotation.
“Lunar flames!” cried Luna, her screams breaking through the blaze around her. “Light my path! And burn! Away! The shadow!”
A blue streak intercepted the crash course, sending the comet astray. The burning ball skidded across a few rooftops, scattering shingles as it rose back into the skies. Luna let the flames fade away to see the interloper.
“Rainbow?!” she spat as they spiraled cloudward once more. “What do you think you’re doing?!”
“Right back at’cha!” screamed Dash over the howling of the passing winds. “You were about to meteor shower Pinkie Pie!”
“She’ll be fine, just let go!”
Rainbow only held her tighter as she tried to get free of her. “F—wh—fine?! Hitting the ground at sound breaking speeds—you call that fine —holy cow, man, you coulda killed her!”
“If I wanted that, she’d already be dead!” swore Luna, eyes flashing. “That’s why I’ve been holding back!”
“Aw, weak.” whined Pinkie. When she’d broken free and grabbed the two of them, neither of them were sure. But two sets of smiles greeted two shocked faces before she spread her wings out to catch the air, flying away behind them.
Rainbow spun about as she and Luna disentangled. “Okay, when the crud did she get wings? W-what’s going on?” Turning her purple eyes upon Luna, who only gawked at the hovering pink menace, she yelled: “Hey, answer me!”
Luna looked over at her, guilt written all across her face. “That’s not our Pinkie. Run.”
Before Rainbow Dash could respond, Luna took off towards Pinkie, who playfully gestured for her to come to her. She didn’t understand. Two of her greatest friends were duking it out; and worse, seemingly playing for keeps. Her eyes darted from one to the other as she chewed on her hoof. What to do, what to do…
Pinkie waved goodbye to Luna, then was snatched away by Dash earning her namesake and then some. “No,” cried out Luna, “Rainbow, don’t!”
“I-I don’t know what’s going on, Pinks, but let’s let the old gal calm down a bit.” Rainbow nodded to herself, nervous and unconvinced it would be so easy. “Ye—uh, yeah, that’s it. We’ll all just calm down and chat this out like we always do.”
Pinkie Pie giggled in her hooves. “Oh, Rainbow. You really should have listened to her.”
Luna chased as fast as she could, but she’d already burned through so much magic, and Rainbow was famous for her speed for good reason. Wind whipped at her mane as she pushed herself harder and harder; she had to catch up. When Rainbow howled in pain and began to fall, Luna’s stomach clenched tight. She folded her wings back and dropped out of the sky after her. This meant having to take her eyes off Pinkie, but she needed to get to her.
She latched onto the tumbling pegasus, whispered the incantations against the uncaring winds rippling at their coats, blue hued feathers flying up all around them. “I’ve got you!”
The two blinked away from the cold night air in a flash.
Azure energy flashed above the greatwood, and two blue fliers went spilling across the branches. Luna bounced upright and pulled Rainbow with her. She looked her up and down as she shook and shivered. “I’ve got you, Rainbow, I’ve got you. Where does it hurt?”
Rainbow sheepishly turned, trembling as she revealed one limp wing hanging at her side. She blinked away the tears of pain as best she could. “What the hay? Sh-she dislocated my wing. What’d I ever do to her, huh?”
Luna felt the limb, ignoring Dash’s wincing. She was right. It wasn’t broken, just out of socket. Luna was almost thankful. Looking her in the eye, she said: “Okay. This is going to hurt. Are you ready?”
Dash practically whimpered as she saw what she was about to do but weakly nodded. A moment later there came a loud snap, and she hobbled forth onto her knees, growling into her hooves to avoid howling for the whole block to hear her pain.
When Rainbow found it in her to stand up again, she flapped the wing. It stung like mad, but it was functional. So much better than the alternative. A great sigh of relief passed through her lips. Then the last of the air was squeezed out of her with Luna’s embrace.
“Stars and moon above, that scared the life out of me. I’m so glad you’re safe.”
Rainbow pushed her off. “Okay, out with it. What kinda messed up Nightmare Night prank gone wrong is all this?”
Luna chewed on her lip and looked away, ashamed of herself.
“C’mon, girl. Spill it.” Rainbow wrenched her face back this way to deal with the intense stare. “Pinkie’s out here starting street brawls and sprouting wings? That mask even sounds like the one Gilda said her director liked to wear. Something supremely weird is going down, and I want to know—I deserve to know.”
“You’re right.” Luna had to admit, nodding slowly. “You really do.” She drew a deep breath. “I’m sure you recall your history lessons, about how I had my body possessed by a nightmare entity to empower myself.”
Rainbow squinted at her. “So, what, there’s another one? Are they following you, will they get the rest of us, am I next?”
“Rather, this is a portion of my original shadow that made me Nightmare Moon. It survived, somehow, cut off from the whole. I learned of it shortly after the Gala, when—”
“Wait, you knew?” Rainbows brows furrowed inward with disgust. “You knew that thing was out there, and you didn’t tell us—you weren’t by my side searching when it got Pinkie?”
“It preys on fear, I-I wanted to keep you girls sa—”
Rainbow shut her with a solid smack across her jaw. Luckily, she hit the one that hadn’t been kicked. “Don’t—just don’t, okay? Do I look like you did a bang up job keeping me safe? Does Pinkie?”
Luna felt at the aching sides of her face. Across from her sat a proud pegasus whose eyes began to well up. “Oh, Rainbow.”
Rainbow let out a single laugh, full of rue and bitterness. “Don’t you ‘oh Rainbow’ me. Just last week at book club I told our friends I felt it was my fault Pinkie was gone—that I wasn’t doing enough for her.” She hiccuped. “And you, you let me. You didn’t say a thing. You let me feel weak and helpless and s-scared.” She blinked and blinked, trying against all odds not to cry. “B-but it was you. I seriously can’t believe you.”
Luna winced at every accusation. Somehow, they all hurt worse than having the pride and dignity beaten out of her for the entire block to see.
“Cripes.” cursed Rainbow. She couldn’t stem the flow any longer. Streaks ran down her cheeks and she shuddered with shame, turning away from Luna. “What, my wing still hurts, okay? You’re not allowed to judge me right now.”
“Nor am I.” Luna said slowly. “You’ve every right to be upset with me.”
“Whatever.” scoffed Rainbow. She shrugged and shook her head. “Psh. I shoulda never trusted you on that morning in the library.”
Luna sat in stunned silence. She had no idea what to say to that. What could she say at all, really, to make any part of this any better? Nothing came to mind, so she said nothing.
“Ouch.” cooed a new voice weighing in. They found Pinkie hanging from a branch above them, wings folded around her as though she were a giant bat. Mask frowning, she said: “Coming from the Element of Loyalty, too, so you know it’s legit. That’s gotta sting.”
Divide and conquer, Luna recalled saying, it’s what I’d do. Irksome. She couldn’t believe what a fool she’d been. Nightmare had played her like a fiddle, and she sang every commanded note in perfect harmony.
“C’mon, Pinkie, fight this thing.” pleaded Rainbow Dash, gawking up at her. “You’re way stronger than Luna’s dumb emo past.”
Luna resented that, but felt it might be more than a little inappropriate to say as much at the moment. So she let it go.
“Now, now, Rainbow.” she said, smiling again. “We can’t wrap things up after the first encounter. Where’s the fun in that?”
“This is hardly the first encounter.” balked Luna.
Pinkie rolled her eyes down at her. “Obviously I meant the first one with my new form, duh.”
“It’s not even the first time we’ve had a spat.” said Luna, unphased. “Not to keep bringing up the Gala, but—”
“Okay, now you’re just being obtuse.” Pinkie was growing less amused and patient by the moment.
“And I’m assuming when she snapped at me at the bakery, that was you as well, so—”
Pinkie let herself fall and landed hard on the branch before them. She pointed a hoof right at Luna’s chest. “Look here, you!”
“Criminy!” blurted Rainbow, drawing their attention. “Ugh, it’s no wonder you two fell so head over heels for each other, you can’t stop joking and palling around even when one of you is literally possessed by an evil shadow thing!”
Pinkie bristled up, recoiling alongside Luna as Dash let out a long, exasperated groan. Her mask frowned. “Well there’s no need to be rude.”
“You’re clearly still in there,” mewled Rainbow, “and you clearly still have a thing for Luna. Will you please fight this so you two can kiss and make up and we can all forget this? Please, Pinkie, I’m beggin’ ya here. This is crazy!”
“Heh.” scoffed Pinkie, leaning back. “There it is.”
Rainbow shook her head. “Huh?”
“‘Oh, that Pinkie Pie, she’s soooooo crazy.’ Isn’t that right, Dashie? At least now we all know what you really think of me.”
A few fresh tears rolled. “Come on, Pinks, you know that’s not what I meant. I… I’m sorry.” She trembled. “That was messed up of me, and I’m sorry. You’re one of my best friends.” Her knees gave out. “Please, please come back to us.”
“That’s enough, Pinkie.” said Luna sternly. When Pinkie turned, she found the tall alicorn looming over her.
“Aren’t you a little tired for a second round?” she asked, so low it was practically a growl. When that failed to get her to so much as crack a smirk, she shrugged. “Fine. Getting to see our Dashie’s first ugly cry is a fine consolation prize.”
Luna thought to say how twisted that was, but Pinkie leaned up, mask lifted, and kissed her on the cheek. As she stammered, confounded, the possessed pony faded away into shadows. She was left there with a fine mess, a sulking pegasus, and a lot of confused feelings.
One thing at a time. thought Luna, exhausted. She moved over to Rainbow and scooped her up into a hug. She wriggled at first before limply placing her tear streaked chin on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Rainbow. For everything.”
“I’m only cool with this ‘cause I need it right now.” growled Rainbow, hooves wrapping around her. “After this, it’s gonna be a cold day in Tartarus before I speak to you again.”
“And I won’t blame you. Just let it all out for now.” Luna pat her back, easing greatly when her breathing started to even out. “Come tomorrow, all shall know of my sins, old and new. I’ll at least try to make sure our friends hear it from me first.”
Author's Note
The original title for this chapter was "The chapter where this story finally earns that 'Violence' tag."
I spent most of today rewriting huge chunks of this because I realized upon my second pass that Luna had actually gotten zero hits in and looked like a punk and not a centuries old mage-knight. Whoops.
Also Luna and Pinkie here really said:
