Diplomacy was never quite Princess Luna’s forte. How could it be, when usually her sister’s words were enough to placate dignitaries?
Thankfully, she knew just enough about manners to be cordial to the Changeling King beside her. Even if he wasn’t quite the most welcome distraction, as his unexpected arrival at Canterlot Castle, in the early morning hours, had interrupted her usual gardening.
A shame, too, just when she’d found time to herself. The dream realm hadn’t felt as if it needed her presence on this particular night. Still, she mused, Thorax was pleasant company, once his initial stream of apologies had petered out. Presently, the two were enjoying a nighttime stroll through the empty castle.
They had stopped near the gardens. “Again, Princess,” Thorax spoke up. “I’m really, really sorry, I... didn’t think of the time, eesh.”
Well, once his stream of apologies had mostly petered out.
“There is no need to apologise,” Luna reassured him. “Rarely do I find company at these hours.”
“Phew, that’s a relief,” replied Thorax. “Actually I did say that… earlier so, sorry for that, too. And… thanks, for, well, holding the door open.”
“It’s no trouble. And you may call me Luna, Thorax,” Luna said, smiling. “These are not my working hours.”
“It’s not?”
“Not tonight at least, no.”
Luna nudged her watering can.
“Right, right,” said Thorax sheepishly. He looked around, his gaze panning over the many lavender pots that hung on the castle windows. “You did a lot of work tonight.”
“As I do, most nights,” Luna said with pride. “I hope they comfort you during your stay, friend Thorax. They aid the dreamer’s sleep.”
“Well, I am feeling a little sleepy, so I guess they do,” agreed Thorax, and he sniffed the air. “It’s really nice. Mmm, maybe we should have these up in the Hive, too, but no one really knows where to get lavender. Or how to take care of them.”
“Is that an invitation?” Luna’s ears perked up. “Oh, pardon my forwardness, I mean, well, I cannot be away from Canterlot for too long, but… I may be able to spare some time to teach your gardeners.”
“If you want to, sure!”
“Wonderful,” said Luna, allowing herself a short laugh. She glanced out the window. It was close to sunrise. “Hm, pardon me, but I need to start taking the lavender down. Best keep them fresh for another night.”
“Oh, alright,” replied Thorax. “Mind if I pay the gardens a visit? I heard a lot about them from Spike, and well, you just gotta see for yourself. I’m gonna guess that’s your work as well.”
“It is indeed, yes.”
“Then I’m sure it’s very nice, Luna,” said Thorax.
“Oh, thank you. Be my guest, spend as much time as you need there,” Luna said brightly. “And do enjoy your stay.”
They parted ways with a nod and a hoofshake. Luna turned to leave, levitating her watering can by her, to pour water on the pots she passed.
Her newfound friend hadn’t noticed her giddy smile as she hummed a tune to herself, skipping happily along the way.
Many knew the Princess of the Night as an astronomer, and that was true. She liked her telescope and star-charts very much. But fewer still knew of her gardening, for she only put the flowers up after she had ensured the Moon had risen for the night, and most within the castle were asleep. The only ones in the know were the local florist down the road from Canterlot Castle, and the old castle gardener who’d retired since the Wedding Invasion, as well as some of the castle’s servants on graveyard-shift.
Then there was her sister, who had come to appreciate her flowers, once Starlight had lent her unusual help one eventful week. Lastly there was Starlight herself, who’d found it sufficiently calming to privately ask for a pot to call her own after her stay.
Now she could count Thorax among them, and that was good. And someone from outside of Equestria, too!
She laughed to herself, and continued on her way.
Then she turned around a corner, coming across a lone Changeling. And Princess Luna froze where she stood. The Changeling did not look very friendly at all, with his furrowed brows, withering glare, and sharp, prominent fangs.
Thorax and his ilk were bright and colourful. This one was not.
He was the spitting image of any faceless drone, one of many who had assaulted Canterlot. His chitin was black, his legs filled with holes like the Changeling Queen herself. His wings were purple, and his fins red in colour, and a blue-metal helmet was attached to his head. Perhaps a guard for Thorax.
He didn’t seem to notice her approach, too busy glaring at the lavender pots hanging by the window. He reached out and bit into the flowers, and tore them from the pot.
Luna dropped her watering can.
“Excuse me?!” she exclaimed, her voice shrill. The Changeling paused.
Taking a few calming breaths, Luna maintained what she hoped was her best, most polite smile. The strain on her mouth told her otherwise, as did her clenched teeth. The Changeling turned, frowning.
“May I ask... what are you doing?”
His large purple eyes met her own. He spat out the torn flowers.
“I’m inspecting these plants,” he said, dismissively. Luna’s eyes darted down quickly to the torn lavender, their petals lying in a sad little pile. “They are a safety hazard.”
Luna raised an eyebrow, and her smile faded. “And…” she said, choosing her words carefully. “How do my lavenders pose a threat to this… diplomatic visit?”
“What? Not the flowers themselves, of course, don’t be stupid,” the Changeling lectured. “Your enemies can hide in them. You should probably remove them immediately.”
Luna glared at him.
“They pose no harm whatsoever,” she hissed. “What is your name?”
It was Thorax who answered, rushing in from the gardens.
“Luna! I heard you yell, wha-”
He paused upon sighting her and the drone. He hurried to Luna’s side, clearing his throat.
“Pharynx!” he said, and he wiped a cold sweat from his brow. He puffed up his chest a little. “That’s no way to treat our hosts’ decoration. We’re here to make them comfortable, remember?”
The soldier – Pharynx, apparently – stared back and forth between the flowers, then Luna, then Thorax.
“Oh, fine,” he said gruffly. “But don’t come running to me next time something sneaks into the Hive, Brother.”
Luna looked at Thorax, with a raised eyebrow. The smaller Changeling grumbled, and moved on to the next hallway, gloomy as ever. Luna hoped he wasn’t seeking more lavender pots to ruin. The Changeling King sighed, massaging his temples, a little deflated.
“That was my brother. I’m sorry, I forgot to mention that. He’s here for security, but he didn’t want to make a fuss about greetings,” said Thorax. “He usually does security for the Hive and he’s… uh, a little stubborn. He’s clinging on to the old ways.”
“The old ways…?”
“Not like that, no, no,” Thorax added. “Not like Chrysalis. Oh, don’t get me wrong, uh, he’s fine with her gone but…”
He gestured to all of himself, tall and mighty and so very bright and yellow, and Luna nodded slowly
“He’s really not big on the change. And all the new stuff we've got going on back at the Hive.”
“I see,” said Luna stiffly.
Her horn lit up, and she readjusted the lavender pot as best as she could. The pots weren’t broken, but the petals were shredded and the plants uprooted. She promised herself to clean any dirt that spilled.
She cursed under her breath before composing herself. A little adjustment, and she was done. “Then let us hope he’s not seeking more of my flowers to ruin, Thorax. There are few more days left to your visit.”
“I’ll make sure of it, Luna,” Thorax agreed, with a few hurried nods. “I just wish he’d listen more. He does this a lot at the Hive, too.”
Luna looked at him, eyes wide. The thought of ruined flowers, scattered throughout the Hive, brought a lump in her throat.
“Truly?” she said. “Everyday?”
“Yeah, and every kind of flower! You should see it. Or maybe not, not when he’s doing his… thing. He stomps and, uh, hisses and growls and kicks holes in the walls…” Thorax lamented. “Look, I’m sorry, Princess. I really need to work on this talking thing…”
“Not a very pleasant fellow, is he now.”
“Oh, he means well, that’s why he wanted to keep his job as chief of security. He just has… some issues, I guess.”
She looked at the hallway Pharynx had disappeared off to. No scattered pots yet, at least, but she harrumphed nonetheless. She turned her gaze back to Thorax, but upon seeing his puppydog eyes, relented on assigning a Royal Guard to Pharynx.
“Worry not, friend Thorax,” Luna said. “Come, we have plenty more to discuss before daybreak. My sister shall take it from there.”
Her worries faded with the rising Sun, a few hours later, and she did not think much of Pharynx when she went to sleep.
* * * * *
But Thorax did not, in fact, make sure of it.
Over that whole week, three times did Luna rise in the evening, put on her gardening hat, and head downstairs. The second and third times, she saw her lavender pots scattered on the floor, throughout the hallways, and then she’d drop her watering can. And both times, she’d stomp a hoof upon the floor, huff and mutter, and readjust her pots.
‘This won’t do. At all. That little fiend!’ she thought, with gritted teeth.
None in the castle, Luna hoped, would hear her grumble ancient curses and words quite unfit for polite company, all the way to her room. There, she climbed onto her bed, and promptly flopped down onto her pillow with a loud groan.
Her glance fell upon her gardening book, upon the nightstand. Fourth edition. A gift from Twilight Sparkle, once the bookworm had learned of her outdated gardening techniques. And Luna was going to ask her if she could borrow a newer copy.
Perfect.
* * * * *
The day of Thorax and Pharynx’s departure had been a quiet one. Luna had almost forgotten to stay up in time to see them off in the early morning hours.
Yet she had stayed up, even as she was about to close her eyes and drift off to sleep, and then she rushed down to the hall, in time to see Celestia standing there at the entrance hall with the two brothers, their figures framed in the great doorway, along with their luggage.
She did not have time to explain nor say much, really, so she presented the book, rather hastily. It was The Canterlot Gardener, fourth edition. A thick, hardcover tome, three hundred pages thick, with a large sunflower upon a plain white cover. A prospective gardener, she’d been promised, would be hard-pressed to find a better do-everything guide. And it was a promise fulfilled.
“My gift for you both, friend Thorax,” said Luna. “I understand these past few days have been… quite the experience, for you and your brother, and the Changeling Hive is not Canterlot.”
“Oh, you shouldn’t, Princess, but thank you!” Thorax replied, with a bashful smile. He looked at the cover in awe. “We still have a lot to learn back at the Hive. Isn’t that right, Pharynx?”
His brother snorted. Thorax shook his head.
“He’ll come around,” said Thorax. “He uh… he’s trying, I promise.”
Luna glanced at Celestia, who nodded at her. Pushing the thought of her scattered flowers away, Luna took a deep breath.
“As I’ve said, Thorax,” said Luna. “Do not worry. Know that you and your people are always welcome here in Equestria.”
She glanced at Pharynx.
“Despite some particular issues.”
Celestia cleared her throat, and Luna felt the gentlest brush of her wings. She grumbled – within her mind, at least.
“Don’t worry,” Thorax said. “Pharynx has something to say, actually. An apology.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Pharynx said, with a roll of his eyes. “This is merely doing our hosts a favour, with some useful advice.”
He looked up at Luna. “You have a pest problem, Princess.”
“Pest problem?”
He reached down into the crate next to him,, and lifted out a small metal cage. In it, there was a little opossum, his eyes wide with fear, his little paws clutching his tail against his body, and strands of grey fur lying scattered on the cage.
“... T-Tiberius?” Luna gasped out.
“Is that what they’re called? I captured this one, that’s how I broke the third pot. Nasty little rat, but I got it, alright,” said Pharynx with a toothy grin, puffing up his chest. “You can get rid of him yourself, it would be your honour.”
Luna threw the book at him.
* * * * *
“You were lucky I caught it in time, Luna,” said Celestia, quite seriously, a few hours later. “It wouldn’t have been pleasant. You could have at least stayed to explain a few things. The fourth edition, really! You know how thick that one is.”
Her sister’s room, large and spacious and filled with comfortable, if excessively large, fluffy white pillows, did not comfort Luna much. After the incident, she’d marched off with Tiberius, seething, and went to Celestia’s room, where she awaited her sister’s arrival.
Luna groaned.
“But you did explain–”
Celestia raised a hoof.
“Luna,” said Celestia. “We do not throw books at guests.”
She paused, her expression softening.
“And they shouldn’t ruin your flowers, either, that is true,” she added, her tone gentler still. “Or trap your pets.”
Tiberius, resting on her side of the coffee table, shuddered. Luna stroked his back, hearing him purr with satisfaction, and sighed.
“I suppose I should apologise, then.”
“And he should too,” Celestia said. “I told Thorax that as well. To be fair, he said Pharynx did stop it after the second night.”
“Incredible,” replied Luna flatly. sipping her coffee. She didn’t particularly feel the need for tea, this time around. “My goodness, what an improvement. Instead of four times, he did it only thrice!”
Celestia shrugged.
“They can surprise you, you know. Whether or not he accepts your apology, know that you’ve taken the higher ground, and that should be the end of it.”
“Very well then,” said Luna. She paused for a moment. “And where is he now?”
Celestia hummed, rubbing her chin.
“Well, Pharynx is back at the Hive, I believe. He didn't want to go with Thorax in visiting Ponyville. A little too 'soft' sounding a place he said. And… well, you know how he doesn’t like to go out much.”
Luna scoffed.
“But you said the Dragon Lord is coming as well,” Luna said, frowning. Changelings and dragons weren't known to get along… or know one another, really. “I was not aware of any other diplomatic visit.”
“To Ponyville? Yes,” said Celestia, laughing softly. “Now isn’t that something to see…”
Luna’s thoughts, meanwhile, had drifted elsewhere still. She took a longer sip from her cup, and nudged Tiberius awake. With a squeak, the little opossum scurried up to rest upon her head. She stood up to leave.
“Sister, do you think it would be wise for me to visit the Hive?”
“For an apology?”
“For a lesson.”
“Please don’t throw another book at him, Luna.”
“No,” said Luna, harrumphing. “I shall show him the right way, if he won’t accept my apology.”
She gazed around, gears turning like clockwork in her head. It was the perfect plan. Now, to carry it out. If he did not understand gardening the way she did, then she would have to show it herself. Then…
“Tia, where is my book?”
* * * * *
Arranging a trip to the Changeling Hive was trivial for a Princess of Equestria. Finding the right time was another. The first day of spring, a good few months after she had lost her book to Pharynx – or at least apparently, since the jury was out, and Thorax could not confirm nor deny that he’d taken the book with him – the opportunity to recover it came at last.
So it was that Luna stood there with Thorax, just as she had in Canterlot Castle, letting her companion guide her on a tour through the new Hive, freed from the ghoulish, decrepit aesthetic Queen Chrysalis had favoured. Where once there was black stone and green wax, now there were colourful wild plants, from vines to orchids and dandelions, and hanging firefly lanterns that illuminated the Hive in their warm glow, alternating with the clear blue, sunlit skies.
“Ah, Luna?” Thorax said. “Are you sure about all this? It’s only, um, a week or two, right?”
Luna looked back at her cart. Watering cans, rakes and shears, compost and even a sunshade net neatly arranged there. With her horn, she lifted the tarp covering half of it, and saw Tiberius fast asleep upon a pile of seed bags, with his little hat lying a little ajar.
“Yes, Thorax. But it does depends on how long I decide to stay – my sister can handle my absence for some time. I shall return here often in the following months. A garden does not bloom easily. It must be nurtured. If I am to expect any further visits from you and your brother to Canterlot, then I ought to show him, and your Hive, the art of gardening.”
“Well, if you want, I could ask him to stay…”
“That is fine as well,” said Luna. She patted him on the back. “But you and I both know he will follow you anyway.”
“Of course he will,” said Thorax, shaking his head.
“Siblings, always the same,” Luna said, with a mirthful chuckle. “And of course, this is to show your Hive as well, lest he plant the wrong ideas in your grubs and nymphs.”
She waved a hoof, gesturing to all of the sanctuary.
“Make no mistake,” she said. “You’ve done a marvellous job, Thorax, if… a little messy. But it is the thought that counts… hmmm...”
Strange, Luna thought, rubbing her chin as she took in the sight of the Hive around her. There were no sign of a certain, grouchy little drone.
“Where is your brother?”
“Ah, he’s still busy, you know. Wanted to do a little more for the Hive now that he’s stopped with the kicking and the grumbling. Mostly.”
“Oh,” said Luna. “What came over him?”
“Well, it’s a long story. Starlight and Trixie helped out with him, right before you visited and… I guess he sort of changed his mind? You’ll know when you see him.”
“Ah.. .very well, then,” said Luna, still unsure. “Pity, I was hoping I would change his mind myself.”
“Mmm, he’s still got room to change, you know,” replied Thorax. “And good luck, I’d really love to see what you’re gonna do with the place.”
“Thank you,” said Luna. She raised her shears, smiling. “Now, show me where I may begin.”
* * * * *
She went to work not long after that, after having settled in one of the various nooks and crannies closest to the peak of the Hive, with just enough to make herself at home. A coffee table, a telescope, her sleeping bag and food and all her bulbs and seeds and other such gardening supplies within her reach, all covered beneath a hanging tarp. And a little home for Tiberius too, in the form of a miniature tent.
There was much to do. While Thorax was well-intentioned, his attempts at decoration left much to be desired, with flowers and weeds and other various wild plants scattered throughout the Hive. A splash of colour in the once-droll hive alongside their inhabitants, oh yes, but like any other canvas, it could do with some proper arrangement.
Before the eyes of the Changelings, most watching her from a distance, with a few brave enough to approach her, Luna toiled on with the Hive’s plantlife, cutting weeds, planting little saplings where there were enough space, planting bulbs in future flower beds.
Though there were many bulbs she had brought, there were none so striking as the lavender, hanging in pots on the walls, and illuminated by the fireflies that resided with the Hive. And to her joy and satisfaction, many of the Changelings had mustered enough courage to ask her the minutiae of her pasttime, and even asked if they too could grow their own.
But she was still a stranger to them, and despite Thorax’s wholehearted encouragements, she was a touch crestfallen still, when many returned to their business upon learning that the flowers’ growth was accelerated by her earthpony side, and flowers grown by a Changeling would take months instead.
So there Luna was, three days after it had all begun, resigned to trimming the weeds still rampant, and the wildflowers still needed plenty of arrangements. And a familiar pain had begun to surface once more, though she weathered it with Tiberius’ company – and he was helping her the best he could, disposing of stray leaves with his own little rake. In these early morning hours, few Changelings were about, for most of the adults were out supervising the nymphs playing outside the Hive, and the few who remained tended to the grubs.
Save for one.
* * * * *
The first thought Luna had was that this one was a stranger, only another. But few Changelings roamed alone, and none had followed this one’s trail. The second one, of course, was how much had changed with him in so little time, yet enough was left in his tall, imposing form to leave Luna with little doubt.
“You look different,” said Luna at last, having paused a good few seconds to take in the sight. She put her watering can down, and tipped her hat in acknowledgement.
Where once he was just another drone, whose bug-eyes would look up to her with a stern glare, Pharynx now stood tall enough to meet her eye to eye, elegant, and more tranquil in the ways Chrysalis’ Changelings were not. He resembled his brother much more closely now, though his shade of green was darker than Thorax’s bright lime-green.
A prince indeed.
“Guess I do,” said Pharynx, with a dismissive snort. His voice was still as grouchy as she had heard it the first time around, and Luna held back a snicker. “I... uh, decided to get on with the times.”
Luna nodded, and briefly, a certain Nightmare Night passed her mind – and the thought of Pharynx trying to fit in with the Royal Canterlot Voice brought a laugh.
“Oh, I believe you. I suppose you had a nice talk with Starlight and Trixie, then? Hah, a wise choice,” replied Luna. “But I see you’re still dark and gloomy and red.”
“See here, I didn’t have a choice,” Pharynx said, smirking. “But it ain’t half-bad.”
Neither did Thorax, Luna reflected.
“Between you and me, though,” Luna said, clearing her throat. “I must say, this look suits you. Isn’t that right, Tiberius?”
Tiberius squeaked in approval. Pharynx’s only reply was a contemptuous snort, and a slight incline of his head. His gaze swept around the garden, or what was already planted of it, and already he wore the telltale scowl of an officer inspecting their barracks.
“May I ask,” said Luna, drawing his attention, lest he start stomping and grumbling as he once did. “Why have you come to this humble garden of mine?”
“I got bored yelling at our recruits,” said Pharynx. “Gotta keep the guards in shape, you know.”
“So, you are here instead.”
“Eh, they can manage,” he continued. “Otherwise, the lesson wouldn’t have stuck. They can handle themselves just fine. Maybe. They’ll learn.”
Privately, she wondered how he might have compared to Shining Armor’s training. Or Chrysalis’ methods, for that matter. Somehow, Luna pictured her lounging on her dark throne, her back legs rested upon Pharynx’s back as a footstool.
Perhaps his grouchiness had something to do with that.
“You don’t seem very angry,” said Pharynx.
“Pardon?”
“You threw a book at me,” he pointed out. And Luna chuckled.
“It was meant as a gift, and I presume you still have it. But I do apologise, Pharynx. That was unbecoming of me.”
She raised her watering can. “Gardening cools the mind, and I no longer hold much in the way of grudges,” Luna replied, waving him off. “You know the old stories, Pharynx, and I hardly wish to let myself be consumed by resentment once more. All is forgiven.”
A pause. Pharynx seemed hesitant to speak his own apology, his purple eyes narrowing in something between a suspicious glare, and a curious stare.But Luna did not mind. She returned to her flowers.
“Actually no, I don’t even know the old stories. They’re old,” Pharynx said. “Chrysalis never told us anything. Just what we needed for the Hive.”
Luna glanced back at him. He seemed a little confused, just a little.
“Then what did she tell you, when you were planning to take over Equestria?”
“That she’d take care of Celestia, like she did at the Wedding.”
“What about the others…?”
“Wasn’t my job. Didn’t bother asking, didn’t need to. Had to guard the Hive.”
“Ah, right...”
Pharynx looked past her, at her flower bed, and snorted.
“I still don’t know what the point of this is,” he said gruffly, shaking his head. “It’s just sunshine and pretty little flowers with you ponies.”
Still the same old Pharynx, then.
“That is precisely the point,” Luna replied coolly. “It is calming, and pleasant to look at, much better than that grotesque aesthetic your home used to have. And the aroma of lavender welcomes your sleep, and makes for better nights.”
“It’s nauseating, is what it is,” said Pharynx. He sniffed the air. “See? It even smells like lavender already.”
“Is everything nauseating to you?” said Luna. “These flowers take time to grow, so nice try, but I shall continue as I please. I’m sure your brother understands.”
He did not answer, but huffed, and turned to leave Luna alone with her flowers. Sighing, she turned to Tiberius, who held onto his little rake, and their eyes met. She shook her head.
“Some people, Tiberius,” she lamented. “Some people…”
She returned to tend to her flowers, with only a few treats given to Tiberius to break the silence. She’d even forgotten to ask about her book, but there would always be time.
A good two hours later, she reached out for a few lavender bulbs to plant, and found that they were no longer there.
* * * * *
It had been the first time Luna visited the Changeling Hive. Neither would it be the last. Days had turned to weeks, and she had done enough and told a few intrepid nymphs about gardening, and they would tell their families too, on and on.
For the most part, it remained a pleasant stay. She tended to her garden, putting up pots and planting seeds, all the while watching the Hive move on without much care for her presence. She did not mind. She was an outsider, and if they could live with her around, that was enough. There were many questions from the children and even the adults to keep her entertained and keep her thoughts flowing and fresh.
Often, though, from the corner of her eyes, and warned by little Tiberius’ warning squeaks, she would turn around in time to glimpse purple eyes and dark green chitin for a split second, before they blended into the greenery.
Well, so long as he kept his hooves off her garden, and his complaints fixed on his underlings, she was fine, and nothing came out of it.
When the time came for her, she returned to Canterlot, and life went on. And her garden continued to thrive.
But as it usually does in times of peace, the smallest of details remained and lingered on in Luna’s mind. She had no proof that Pharynx had taken her lavender bulbs, of course, but surely, if the horseshoe fits, she thought…
Fortunately, none of her other pots were ruined, despite Pharynx’s often vocal resistance to new ones being put in place.
The whys and wherefores did not trouble her anymore. Now she only hoped her flowers would still be there, and her lessons to the many nymphs and imagos had remained.
And when she did return to the Hive, on the first day of summer, she was greeted with the sight of daffodils and dandelions, and even her lavender, with enough pots that remained. There were a few broken pots, overgrown flowers, and weeds, but none too concerning.
‘Good,’ Luna thought, having exchanged her greetings with Thorax, a few of the children, and of course, some of the prospective gardeners. ‘One last matter to deal with, I suppose.’
With Tiberius safely perched atop her hat, and her shears and watering can held ready, she went ahead, and turned round the corner to her personal garden.
And who else to await her there, if not Pharynx.
* * * * *
“Why are you here?” Luna asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, I thought you might come here,” said Pharynx, nudging her watering can. He stood between her and her flower bed. “Guess I was right.”
A moment’s hesitation passed. Then Luna lowered her gardening shears, realising she’d raised them in alarm.
“What? You think I’ll let you grow more of these lavenders?” Pharynx continued. “Not on my watch.”
Luna stared at him for a good few seconds.
“Right,” she said at last. “I presume that explains why you took my lavender bulbs?”
Pharynx merely huffed.
“Come with me,” he said, turning around. “Got somethin’ to show you.”
He turned to leave, through a side entrance Luna wasn’t sure was there before. She glanced at the lavender, and Tiberius hopped off to give it a once-over as well.
And not a lavender was out of place, though a little sullen without her tender care.
How very odd.
With Tiberius back on his perch atop her head, Luna picked up her shears, and followed after Pharynx, down winding tunnels, finally emerging into an unknown grove.
Luna stopped in her tracks, as Pharynx went on and waved a hoof to present his own sanctuary. She saw plenty of roses.
Yes, roses. Pink roses blooming from bushes so large and overgrown she had mistaken them for weeds, their many leaves covering the walls of this part of the hive. Roses with thorns so large and sharp they seemed unnatural. Roses that, against all sense, smelled quite… wonderful, to her nose. She took one sniff of the air, and it brought her memories of that old garden she had once tended to in the Castle of the Two Sisters.
Nevertheless, those memories faded quickly enough, for this grove was still overgrown and thorny and everything that wasn’t very pleasant, and her first instinct was to ask, ‘What have you done?’
But naturally, Luna had wanted the Hive to have their own gardeners. And everyone had to start from somewhere.
Thus, after a second thought, what did come out of her mouth was, “What’s all this?”
“Roses, obviously,” said Pharynx. “I thought you would know.”
“Rosebushes do not usually grow this big. Where did you get them?”
“It doesn’t matter, but no, I didn’t steal these from you.”
“They are pink. You don’t even like bright colours.”
“Hey, they’re the closest ones I got, alright? It’s not like I even have any options. And your roses weren’t even pink!”
“Right, fair point,” Luna said. She brushed a wing against the nearest rosebush. She felt the many thorns poke at her feathers. “They’re… very sharp. You must’ve used too much fertiliser. Industrial-grade stuff, too, for goodness’ sake.”
“Why’d you bring it, then? It’s just what I needed.”
“But, it wasn’t for the flowers!” Luna protested. “I was offering them to Thorax, so that he may grow crops, too.”
“We don’t eat plants.”
“Crops to sell.”
“Huh, okay then. Well, I use ’em because my flowers have a use,” Pharynx replied, shaking his head. “If you want this Hive to look pretty, then it’d better be safe too. That’s why I got to work once that book of yours told me what roses can do.”
Luna looked back at the thriving rosebush. She sighed.
“You need to trim it,” Luna said, raising her shears. Pharynx grumbled, and pushed them down.
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do,” Luna pressed on. “You don’t want your Hive’s grubs and nymphs to prick themselves.”
“That’s the point! It teaches them,” Pharynx retorted. “Makes ’em sharper, less squishy. A little bit more careful.”
“You are not very fond of children, are you, Pharynx.”
“Hey, just because I don’t coddle them, doesn’t mean I hate ‘em, Princess, and not everyone can just walk into dreams and fix their nightmares for ‘em.”
Luna raised an eyebrow.
“I... thought you hadn’t read the old stories.”
Pharynx threw his gaze away from her.
“Yeah well,” he said. “I had to read up on my own. Gotta find out for myself, don’t I? Thorax gets busy enough with his ‘bedtime stories’ for the grubs.” He shuddered, fixing his eyes on her again. “Anyways, it’s not like I put this in the nursery chamber. So, if they get pricked, that’s gonna be their fault.”
Luna groaned.
“Very well,” she said. “Trim them slightly? Yes, yes, all about that safety, but… really. Do you want these bushes to grow so much they hinder the grubs and nymphs, and maybe even your imagos, from leaving the hive without–AH!”
She gasped and winced. Having spread her left wing to point at the bushes, she’d ended up brushing a little too closely.
“Without pricking themselves?”
Luna poked his chest with a hoof.
“And you, my good sir,” she continued. “You wouldn’t be able to protect the hive if these bushes prevent you from leaving too. That giant spider-monster-whatever-it-is form of yours, now wouldn’t that be an inconvenience for it, hm? Wouldn’t you want to deal with a maulwurf before it reaches the Hive?”
Luna withdrew her hoof, waiting for any sort of response. Pharynx’s stern glare remained, yet, even as Luna contemplated it, something did stir behind his eyes. At last he relented.
“Fine,” he said. “Here, give me the shears.”
And so Luna did. She moved aside, and together with Tiberius, they watched Pharynx approach the nearest rosebush. Shears at the ready, he raised them with his magic, keeping the blades open. And then he stopped, halfway through, still as a statue.
Luna exchanged glances with Tiberius, then cleared her throat.
“Is something the matter?”
“I… uh… don’t know how to do this.”
Luna smiled. “Is that so? Then here, let me teach you.”
She moved to Pharynx’s side, but he recoiled when her magic enveloped his, and Luna did not feel the shears in her magical grip. Only his magic beneath hers, unyielding.
“I didn’t ask you,” said Pharynx, defensively.
“You’ve done wonderfully on your own, Pharynx. I suppose that book did come in useful after all. But, please, allow me.”
His magical grip relented after a moment’s hesitation, and Luna held the shears once more.
“When you said wonderfully…” Pharynx began, but Luna waved him off.
“I did not mean it in jest, nay,” she replied. “If you wish, well, I can teach you more than simple trimming.”
Pharynx rubbed his chin. He nodded, very slowly.
“But no more of your lavender,” he added quickly. “Bah, it still smells, and everyone here needs a clear mind.”
“Brave of you to presume you can command me. Nay, Pharynx,” Luna retorted, smirking. “I have my corner, and you shall have yours, and no garden will last without their caretaker’s guidance.”
With a wing, she pointed towards the overgrown bush before them. She expected him to stomp out then, grumbling as he usually did, and to go out there and beat up a maulwurf or two to let off some steam, and turn her down after all.
Instead, he settled for a scoff.
“Oho, is that a challenge?” said Pharynx, with a smirk to match Luna’s. “Challenge accepted.”
* * * * *
The challenge did happen, and over the warm summer months, the Hive’s garden grew larger.
It had started with their lavender and roses, in one little corner of the Hive, and Luna’s scattered lavender pots and other such flowers. But it went on, and on. Pharynx had not wished to let her lavender be so widespread as to overshadow his work, and Luna thought the same of his rosebush and hedgerows.
Now, Luna, for one, wasn’t quite sure what it was in the end, or if it even was a challenge. For as much as she and Pharynx told the other that this was a competition, neither he nor she seemed determined to shape it as such.
May the best garden win, they told the other. Neither had bothered to figure out just what determined the best.
Each of them settled into a routine of their own, over three months. Luna would come whenever she could, and tend to her garden as usual. Nothing much changed in that regard. Except, of course, the fact that she wasn’t quite alone as she used to be, for in that routine, she would take the time to visit the rosebushes.
And there, she was not alone.
The Hive’s gardeners were growing in number, naturally. But they went back and forth between the pots throughout the Hive, leaving her alone for the most part. And none stayed by her side like Pharynx did, and she was content to be in this corner of the Hive, with no one to bother her.
At first, they had simply settled to tending to their own corners, with only the gentle sounds of water dripping onto leaves, or shears cutting through weeds to provide ambience. Then, when the summer days grew longer and longer still, what else could Luna do but steal glances at his work, as he did hers.
Where she was gentle with her trims and precise in her amounts of fertiliser and compost poured, Pharynx was less so, and his bushes weren’t quite so neatly trimmed or grown in just the right amounts.
And yet Luna did not mind, as such. Company was company. Pharynx was no fussy companion. He would be away, for long periods at a time, even as Luna continued with her work. And when he returned, grumbling and irritated and all around resigned by his fellow guards of the Hive, Luna would nod and perk up her ears upon hearing his tales of maulwurfs and tatzelwurms and other nasty creatures lurking outside in the Badlands.
But once his latest rant or vent, always over his fellow guards’ slackness and the risks he took upon himself, had subsided, he would return to his bushes, and work in silence.
Some nights, he would burst into the garden, groaning and wincing, with his chitin cracked. Which was an inconvenience, no matter how much he insisted it wasn’t. And he would stagger and curse and lean against the wall, begrudging his duty, or renew his vow to protect, until Luna offered him a wing draped over his withers and a few words of comfort.
Other nights, Luna would sulk in the corner, grumbling about the unjust nightmares that befell ponies, children most of all, innocent and unaware of life’s hard truths. Some had nightmares whose experiences reflected their troubles in the real world, and she would weep for those who could not escape so easily. She would ramble for a long time, but she would always give her thanks to Pharynx, who sat awkwardly by her side until she'd finished.
And what else could they do, if not listen to one another, and provide some trims and water to the garden, when the other could not.
Few words were spoken, but few words were needed.
Then came the last month of summer. One night, after she had raised the Moon, and come down to join Pharynx in nighttime gardening, illuminated by fireflies, he said something.
* * * * *
“I don’t get it.”
Luna stopped watering the rosebush, and glanced at Pharynx beside her.
“Pardon?”
Pharynx returned her gaze. Luna saw a slight frown.
“I don’t get it, Luna,” he repeated. “Dunno why… I just had a thought. What’s the point of all this?” He shook his head. “What’s the point of you doing this? You’ve got a whole castle to command. You have an entire realm only you can control. So why do you even do this?”
He pointed towards a rose. Regrettably, they had both missed it until now. The flower was all wilted and decayed.
“You’re old. You’re going to outlive every bug in this Hive,” he said plainly. “Why do you even bother to have anything to do with us, or anyone, or every flower you ever planted? Why do you even wear a gardening hat? It’s night-time.”
Where she would once have heard hostility and suspicion, Luna noted, now there was only confusion, and curiosity. She put down her watering can, and moved to lie down near her side of their shared garden.
“Lie down with me,” Luna said, patting the space nearby. Pharynx obliged, while she took off her gardening hat, too, laying it down before her. “And tell me, Pharynx. What troubles you so, after all this time?”
Pharynx grumbled.
“I just don’t get the point of it,” he said. “Yeah, okay. I… enjoy it. Cools me off, I guess. But I don’t get it. Why?”
Luna looked away from him, and sighed. Her left hoof pawed at the ground in front of her. When she returned to him, she focused her eyes on his right hoof. The one he avoided setting down upon the ground. Luna reached out, to hold up his hoof, gently.
“You’re hurt.” She heard a scoff, even as she fixed her gaze upon the hoof. It was cracked, as it usually was. Changelings healed faster than ponies would. But crack one hoof too often, and the scars would remain. “I told you to use that giant disguise of yours.”
“Yeah, so?” Pharynx retorted. He rolled his eyes, as Luna returned her gaze. “Those things outside need to know how to fear us as us, and not something only I can do.”
“No matter how much it costs you?” Luna asked, and Pharynx withdrew his hoof.
“It doesn’t matter.”
Luna shook her head. She pointed with a wing, towards her lavender.
“Tell me what you see, Pharynx.”
“Your garden. A bunch of flowers. ’Bout to be harvested,” he said gruffly. “Don’t try to change–”
“That is indeed what they are.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
Luna put a wing against his mouth.
“Hush,” she said. “I am not changing the subject. Now, you say that you see a garden. And that is what I see too.”
She looked up at the Moon.
“My sister thinks of herself as a teacher,” said Luna. She chuckled. “She’d have done a better job at teaching you how to trim properly, when we got started.”
“But you said you were fine with it,” Pharynx protested.
Luna winced. “I wanted to be nice. And they are fine as it is now, not to worry. But… she is a better teacher than I am. And I? I am but a gardener. I watch over Equestria and let ponies blossom with their dreams, quelling their nightmares when I’m needed. Is that not what a gardener does, to let their flowers bloom?”
Pharynx’s frown deepened, as his gaze fell upon some of the petals that had fallen off.
“From your perspective, they don’t last very long, do they?” he said blandly. “You said these would last a good ten years. That’s a blink of an eye for you.”
“You are quite astute,” agreed Luna. “I have outlived many over the centuries. As I will outlive you, and this Hive of yours. But I wish to see the flowers bloom here, too. And they will bring you joy, as I feel when I see my ponies, and your Changelings, live their happiest lives.”
“So it’s a reminder,” Pharynx surmised. To which Luna nodded.
“That it is, for me, at the very least,” said Luna. She poked him with a feather. “And what does it bring you?”
He did not answer at first, choosing to keep pawing at the ground. He used his injured hoof, wincing and cringing upon every touch of the dirt. Yet when Luna reached out for it, he recoiled.
“A distraction,” he said, gazing into Luna’s eyes as he said so. “Something to keep my mind off.”
“Off… what?” Luna asked.
“What I need to do,” he said. “What I do for the Hive.”
He snorted.
“You’ve been here for a while. Didn’t notice anything funny did you?” he said. “More and more Changelings are leaving the clutch. Wide-eyed, cheerful and so many questions to ask, even from the ones who stayed. I swear, that girl Ocellus is tryin’ to drive me nuts. I don’t know half of the stuff she asks me. I don’t know where to get the books, and she gets too shy to even leave and find out herself!”
Pharynx took a deep breath, and exhaled.
“They go out, see, then lots of ‘em comes scurrying back, ’cause they got no idea what’s waiting for ‘em outside, and then it’s ‘Pharynx help us with this’ and Pharynx that and…”
He trailed off, the words dying in his throat. Luna raised an eyebrow.
“Pharynx?”
“And plenty don’t come back,” he continued. “There. I said it. You weren’t even here when it was so much worse. Okay. It got better. And they are trying. That’s what I keep tellin’ myself every time I had to yell at the new recruits.”
He returned his gaze to her, still frowning. He looked older than Luna had ever seen him before, his shoulders sunk and slumped.
“One day I won’t be coming back to the Hive,” he said. “A maulwurf or a tatzelwurm or grumpkins or whatever’s waitin’ for me outside will get me. And then…”
His voice trailed off yet again. This time, Luna spoke up.
“And then your brother would miss you,” said Luna. She draped a wing over his barrel, gently. “So would the Hive. So would little Ocellus. And so would I.”
Another scoff, but Pharynx made no move to push her wing away.
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
“That is the point,” Luna said, and rolled her eyes. “But please. You did not fail your sibling, or my people, as I did.”
“That was a long time ago. She and Equestria took you back in just fine.”
“Perhaps,” Luna mused. “But one thousand years is no short time, and I recall plenty of familiar faces that are there no longer, whom none save my sister remember. One day you will pass, but the Hive will live on without you, and it will be safe.”
“Will it?” Pharynx retorted. “You don’t know the future.”
“But I will see it. And I will ensure it. Not that I need to. But that is a promise.”
She spread her other wing.
“Look around you, Pharynx,” she said. “This garden has thrived, and I place my faith that it will continue to be full of luster, even in my absence. Have faith, Pharynx. Your hive will, too.”
Luna turned her eyes back at him, to find his expression grown distant, and yet, contemplative.
“What will you remember, Pharynx?” asked Luna.
“I’ll remember this.”
Luna smiled. And so did he.
* * * * *
Like all good things, soon came the time for Luna to leave. The gardens now thrived even without her guidance, and there were just enough gardeners tending to the Hive that, for the most part, her presence was no longer required.
She stood there, with all her items neatly packed in her luggage or tied to her chariot behind her. Tiberius sat atop her as she regarded both Thorax and Pharynx, once the rest of the Hive had said their farewells and returned to their lives.
“Goodbye, King Thorax, Prince Pharynx,” said Luna. “It has been a wonderful time. Yet my duties have been delayed long enough in these months. Thank you for your hospitality.”
“And thank you for your help, Princess Luna,” said Thorax, with his ever-friendly smile. “I just wish we could come, but we’ve got another meeting with the dragons first. Dragon Lord Ember told me she’s looking forward to seeing the flowers. Although she gets… allergic. I think.”
“A dragon’s sneeze is not to be trifled with. Now, the Friendship Festival is open to all, as my friend Princess Twilight has assured me,” Luna replied. “And you and your brother would be very welcome, no matter how late you are.”
“I see where you get all your mushy stuff from,” Pharynx said dryly. “Couldn’t she have named it something better?”
“She has her ways. We have our ways, really,” said Luna. Then, Pharynx lifted his edition of The Canterlot Gardener, a little worse for wear going by the missing ‘R’ in ‘Canterlot’ on the cover, but mostly intact nonetheless.
“Here,” he said. “You can have your book back.”
After a moment’s pause, setting aside the little flutter in her chest, Luna shook her head.
“Keep it, Pharynx,” she said, pushing it back, with a smile. “Did I not tell you already that it is yours to keep? My gift, to you and your brother.”
“But… do I really have to share this?”
“I’d love it if you did,” Luna replied. She knew, from the grumble and the sigh Pharynx let out, and the glee in Thorax’s smile, that he would indeed share it. She tipped her gardening hat. “Canterlot’s gates will be open for you both, always.”
“Same goes with the Hive,” replied Thorax, accompanied by a nod from Pharynx. “Goodbye, Luna. And tell Spike, and Celestia, and Cadance, and Twilight, and… okay, everyone I guess, we said, ‘hi’.”
Luna gave one last nod, before boarding her chariot. With Tiberius tucked in, and every belonging of hers neatly tied down, she waved goodbye. So did Thorax and Pharynx, and off the chariot went, pulled by two of her thestral Guards.
Right before she was taken up and above the clouds, Luna looked back just in time to see Pharynx, now alone, gaze at the skies. Soon he turned around and disappeared into the Hive.
* * * * *
Life went on, with its many twists and turns. The Friendship Festival came, in all its bright and shining wonder, and many greetings were exchanged, many laughters shared amidst the songs and fireworks.
Or it would have, had things not taken a turn for the worse when the Storm King and his servants came to pay Canterlot a visit. And they had come prepared. When Luna and Celestia and Cadance took their stand and fought, it ended in stone for the three of them.
A fate that would have befallen Twilight Sparkle, had her five ever-faithful friends, to Luna’s knowledge, not rallied around her, and together with new allies, freed them all and vanquished the hulking warlord.
She was never sure if it had all taken a day, or a few days. Amongst the Bearers of Harmony, the pink one could be so enthusiastic in her storytelling – she, and her new hippogriff friend.
And this preceded many more talks, foremost with Queen Novo as her people emerged from hiding, ready for hippogriffs to rejoin the wider world. One thing led to another, and naturally, it was Twilight who proposed the opening of a school, to spread the message of friendship throughout Equestria and beyond.
‘A gardener in her own right,’ Luna had thought. ‘But still Tia’s student…’
Of course, where there was joy, there was also sorrow, as it often goes. And for Luna, that sorrow came in the form of her ruined garden.
The Storm King’s occupation of Canterlot Castle had not been kind to it. The flowers were crushed, trampled and burnt. Their leaves were strewn about, even the ornamental fountain had been shattered. Although Twilight had restored most of Canterlot with the power of the Sun and Moon, none could bring back Luna’s ruined plants.
She had worked hard to restore the garden, true. But it still brought a twinge of sadness whenever she returned to it, how the flowers were scattered and torn.
Now, a good few weeks after the event had transpired, Luna sat down, at the center of it all. Tiberius, always loyal, sat by her side, resting upon her watering can. Plenty of flowers were lost. But she was a gardener. And like all gardeners, she would press on.
So she went right back to work. Or at least, she would, had she not heard a familiar, gruff voice chime in, above all the gentle sounds of the palace garden.
* * * * *
“You got busy.”
Luna stopped watering her new tiny rosebush, and turned to face her guest.
“You’re late,” Luna said. “And what brings you here to Canterlot, Pharynx?”
Pharynx shrugged.
“Thorax is busy showin’ Ocellus around that fancy school Princess Twilight built. The school of… uh...”
“The School of Friendship?”
“Of course that’s what it’s called. Yeah. That,” said Pharynx, with a groan and a grimace. “I thought I might visit you.”
“How touching,” said Luna, with all the sincerity she could muster. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d forgotten me.”
“You? Never,” Pharynx said. “Nah, I just got busy. You probably could’ve used a hoof, though.”
“We were ambushed. Had I- had we gotten more time to prepare, why, we would have triumphed right there!” Luna replied, a little indignant. Pharynx simply chuckled.
“I’m sure you would,” he said. “Also, uh…” He tapped a hoof on the grassy ground. “I’m… sorry.”
Blinking, Luna tilted her head, slightly. “Whatever for?” she asked. “I forgave you a long time ago. The garden we grew together is apology enough.”
“Not to you,” Pharynx clarified. He pointed a hoof at her head – and Luna’s eyes darted up to where Tiberius was now, perched upon her hat. “Him.”
He sighed.
“Look. I’m sorry I called you a pest… um… Tiberius. And I’m sorry I put you in a cage.”
“Ah, I see...” Luna replied. “Do you forgive him, Tiberius?”
A happy squeak was all the answer she needed. Thus Luna’s gaze returned to Pharynx, taking in the sight of him. He looked much as she remembered him, tall and dark and imposing, yet also a warm and welcome presence. His eyes met with hers.
But then her gaze went down towards his hooves. The chitin was cracked, moreso than usual.
“Are you alright?” She frowned. “Your hooves...”
“I’m good,” said Pharynx, waving a dismissive hoof, “C’mon, got somethin’ to show you,” he added, beckoning her to follow.
With Tiberius still perched on her head, Luna followed him down the garden path. They marched silently for a while, until they arrived at the steps before the front entrance. There, she stopped in her tracks, astounded by what greeted her.
Lavenders. Lavenders, all potted, all neatly arranged in rows on a travelling wagon, be they kept in a compartment or hanging from the sides. The flowers weren’t as lush as the ones she had grown, their colours muted and perhaps a little exposed to the elements. But they had travelled far, so very far, and it all smelled of lavender and of places unfamiliar to Luna’s noses.
Another swig of its scent told her where it was grown, and who had grown it.
“Told Thorax I was coming with him. He had that… bleh, School of Friendship to visit, so might as well offer to carry their stuff for them. You would not believe how much Ocellus talks when it’s just him and me on the way here. Anyway, yeah. You wouldn’t mind if we stay for a week, right?”
Luna nodded, still a little breathless.
“There’s… there’s so… much…” she whispered. “Pharynx, what…”
“Ten for each pot I broke,” Pharynx said. “And a couple extra for good measure. So that’s, uh, hmm, thirty? Eehh, lost count anyway. I didn’t steal them from your garden. Took me a while to grow ‘em outside. You were getting suspicious.”
“I thought you hated lavender,” Luna replied, more a statement than a question.
“Psh, I did. Wanted to get rid of 'em at first. So I guess I'm sorry for that, as well,” said Pharynx. “But that'd be a waste of time. So, no, I don't hate ‘em. Not when it’s you.”
Luna’s heart skipped a beat.
“Me?” she asked, looking back at him. Pharynx rolled his eyes.
“What, you think I didn’t notice?” he said, with that playful smirk of his. “Everyone has their love-scent. Yours is lavender.” He sniffed the air. “See? I smell it right now. Don’t think you ponies can smell ‘em, but I can tell you it’s stronger and better than your flowers.”
An awkward pause hung in the air. Many things passed Luna’s head then. Of her lavenders, of her gardening in the castle and at the Hive. The little trims Pharynx did on her behalf, showing off his new skills, whenever she missed a few spots on the hedges and rosebushes. The rare smile he shared with her when she had regaled tales of old beneath the moonlit sky. The little flutter that had grown larger in her chest.
Few words formed in her throat. And fewer conclusions still. Dreams were easier to weave. Her thoughts were not. Best to clear them up, though.
“Hah! Got you blushing,” Pharynx grinned. “Told you it’s lavender. Didn’t believe me now, did ya?”
She settled for an awkward cough, and a quick flap of her wings to clear the air.
“Ahem, Pharynx, dear,” said Luna sweetly at last. “You do know what flowers are for, of course?”
“Aromatherapy and decorations, yeah. And protection,” said Pharynx, chuckling. “Why?”
“Anything else?”
“Nah, pretty sure that was it, Luna,” came the clueless reply.
Luna rolled her eyes. “Very well,” she said. “Then let me teach you another lesson.”
She leaned forward, closing the small gap between them, and planted a kiss on his cheek.
“They are the traditional gifts to fair maidens,” said Luna, parting from the kiss. Pharynx said nothing; his eyes had widened, and he stood still like a statue would. “Now aren’t you quite the gentlecolt, to bring a whole garden.”
She winked at him.
“Thank you,” she said. “They are very pretty, Pharynx, and you should be proud of them… I know I am. Come then! We have a long week ahead, and so much to do.”
Then Luna tugged at him, and that smirk of his had returned. Right then and there she knew he would follow her, carrying the flowers with her, on a long walk down the entrance hall, where they would talk for hours and hours about the art of gardening and roses and lavender, siblings and duties, old mare’s tales and so, so much more.
Yes, it would be a very pleasant week.
Author's Note
My first, and probably my only attempt at a shipfic. This isn’t my usual fare, and yet, I hope you all find it a nice afternoon read 
Probably the fastest I've written a fic from idea to end result - started writing it a little over an hour after the idea was sparked, and then finished two weeks after that!
I had thought to make it Pharynx and Celestia. But of course, I had once written a scene where Luna finds Pharynx... well, ruining her lavender, so I had something to work with. Plus, it’s Luna 
Tiberius is Luna’s pet opposum from the comics. Real shame he hasn’t been introduced in the show. Actually, it’s also a real shame Philomena hasn’t appeared in the show again, for that matter.
The timeline very roughly follows the ‘My Little Chronology’, a fanmade project, and the events are as canon compliant as possible. Except for Luna’s actions in the film. She and the other princesses deserved a longer fight. So, boom. She fought a little longer.
Cheers!
-Sledge
PS: To any of you familiar with my work/involvement in the SPECTRUM-verse, no, this has no connection with that verse.
