In the Garden of the Night
“Are you ready?”
Luna’s voice, tranquil and smooth and all-encompassing, passed Twilight’s mind, and she felt her chest tighten, slightly, her heart fluttering. Such a familiar, welcome voice. But now, old anxieties bubbled to the surface. Of course they did. Why wouldn’t they?
‘Right… not the time, not the time…’
She pushed the thought aside, and readied her stance.
“I am,” answered Twilight. She straightened her neck, and let out the breath she had held for some time. “Okay… okay, yeah, I am, I think.”
“Good,” Luna’s reply came. “Now, open your eyes, Twilight Sparkle.”
Twilight did as was asked of her, and looked up, where her eyes met with Luna’s. They were old, gentle eyes. Purple met cyan, and Twilight’s chest tightened once more upon seeing, feeling the warmth flowing from the mare before her. Then again, that was how she felt around her, usually.
Luna did tell her, and had showed her, even, how the Dream Realm worked and toyed with emotions in peculiar ways. Here she stood so close to the heart of it, its many threads ebbing and flowing from its caretaker.
It was a nice, warm feeling, and a little ticklish too, once she got used to the flow. But why, oh why, did it make it so very hard to ask already.
Maybe she should have brought the amulet with her. But that didn’t make sense. How would she even bring it–
“You can blink, you know,” Luna chided her, biting back a smile, and her cheeks flushed darker. Twilight felt hers heat up, too. “Or did my sister teach you not to, hm?”
Twilight laughed, shaking her head. Another time would come.
“Heh… sorry just… trying to get my bearings, ahem,” said Twilight. She groaned. “Gah. I blew it again, didn’t I?”
“Not yet, no,” Luna answered, with a twinkle in her eyes. “But let’s not reach that point, aye?”
“Nope, nope,” Twilight added hurriedly. “We’ll cross that bridge when we have to, I guess. Anyways…”
She spread out her wings, and flashed Luna a challenging smile.
“Race you to it!”
Without hesitation, with her heart pounding in her chest, Twilight leapt off the cliff edge, soaring through the air, where she knew Luna would follow her.
Their laughter echoed through the Realm, drifting among the stars and beneath the moonlight.
* * * * *
The Dream Realm had become a familiar sight to Twilight, over the many sessions she’d shared with Luna. Many times did the two of them walk it together, from the day Celestia had announced the Royal Sisters’ planned retirement. Many times did Twilight practice her grip over the magic that permeated this plane, weaving it in all its many threads.
Plenty of times, too, did Twilight and Luna merely spend time together, dancing and laughing, and talking, and many such occasions of a simple nuzzle and a kiss or two.
It was such occasions that made Luna’s domain, the heart of the Realm itself, so very, very warm, and Twilight’s heart fluttered and her mind cleared when she landed upon the grassy, starlit field, and pranced around a little, smiling and laughing, and she let the wind embrace her wings, her eyes drawn to the skies. The stars shone bright tonight, as they always did, and the grass blew gently in the ethereal wind.
Then she looked back to see Luna touch down, with a serene smile. And what could Twilight do, but lay down on her back in the grass, sighing contentedly.
“Hey, Luna?” Twilight asked aloud. Her voice echoed and danced in the cool breeze. “Mind if I… stay here for a bit? I need to stretch.”
“You’ve asked me that before. Quite often, too.” Luna deadpanned, looking down upon her, with a roll of her eyes. “Please, we’ll have time for that.”
Luna nudged her with a forehoof, and Twilight groaned.
“Come on, five minutes?” she said. “Really. I need to stretch.”
No answer. Luna tilted her head. And then...
“You’re still getting letters, aren’t you?” asked Luna, a teasing smile at the corner of her lips, and Twilight nodded.
“Yep. A lot. Too many. Spike hasn’t changed the address.”
“Hmpf, really, Twilight?” Luna teased, and there it is again, that smile of hers, a playful one that perfectly captured the Nightmare Night spirit.
“Yes, really. And I just can’t leave them unopened, can I? Old habits, you know. I just need to know how the students are doing. And the more letters that aren’t some boring tax report, the better.”
Luna rolled her eyes. With a harrumph, Twilight moved to nudge Luna, with her outstretched wing.
“Ah, ah, there it is, Luna,” she chided, “I know that look. ‘Oh no, why are you invading their privacy?’ I mean, hey, we’re in the Realm of Dreams, you of all people should know better. I’d find out about how they’re doing sooner or later.”
“No, no, it’s not that,” said Luna. “I mean, I suppose you could just… not read them.”
Luna laughed, and Twilight threw her a dirty look. Then she laughed too.
There it went again, with the delay. Twilight cursed herself. It was of her own making – but then Luna moved in for a nuzzle, and the question passed yet again. Perhaps another time.
* * * * *
It was only when their laughter had subsided that Twilight and Luna went on with their walk, in silence. A silence only occasionally broken by the voices drifting from above, with the stars that danced with them and the flow of the aurora of the Frozen North.
Across the moonlit field they walked, wings around one another, feeling the evening’s wind brush against their coat and one another. The voices of the past did bring comfort from high above, if Twilight paused and listened, whenever Luna had flown with her in tow, and shown her treasured stories in the stars.
A dreamer’s mind was tailored to their self, consciously or not. Celestia’s own, as Luna recounted, were an endless sea of stars, twinkling and woven with a medley of colours. Twilight need not try too hard to remember it, of course. Her wings had been a blessing given unto her in that very same expanse.
If that was Celestia’s sanctuary, then Luna’s domain was the vast, moonlit fields that stretched as far as one’s eyes could perceive, beneath the stars. A grassy field broken by the occasional copses of trees, with critters lurking beneath their leaves and between their roots, or hidden gardens that emerged when one approached its boundaries. As Twilight and Luna both did now, for a garden did come into being.
It had begun with the crescent Moon, drawn into the clear soil, when Twilight’s hoof and Luna’s stepped onto the boundaries. Stone benches emerged, and they shifted and turned in a concentric circle around the pattern of the Moon with a gentle rumble. And marble pots aplenty, drawn from the stardust that had descended from above. They held flowers, so many flowers, from exotic chrysanthemum that had surely been grown by Mistmane herself, to the snowdrop flowers which grew in the Crystal Empire and dandelions… then sunflowers and roses that reminded Twilight of Cadance, so very much.
Twilight closed her eyes. There, she felt it tickle her nose; the scent of lavender, most of all, drifting from the clusters of lavender that grew in the fields surrounding them and in the pots, she knew. She had requested, no, begged Luna to return to the castle, every once so often, to grow them as she used to when she resided there. It was a sweet reminder of her, Twilight mentioned. And that was reason enough.
Now, with the scent of lavender, Twilight too was reminded of her new home.
When she opened her eyes, Luna was there, patiently waiting for her beneath the great, twisted pine that grew in the center of the garden. Luna had insisted it was merely a bristlecone pine, ancient and foreboding, older than most nations. It certainly didn’t explain why it was a dead ringer for the Tree of Harmony, but Twilight had a few good guesses.
She moved to sit by Luna, and let out a sigh.
Now comes the hard part. Twilight wished she had brought a few books. And that blasted amulet, too.
* * * * *
“You seem troubled, Twilight.” Luna broke the silence. They had sat there for hours. The flow of dreamtime could so often last longer than even what its weavers intended.
For a moment, Twilight mused that she could remain silent, till daybreak. They had time, and she’d been taught to slow the flow of time, even further. But that wouldn’t be polite.
“Do I?” Twilight asked. “Maybe. Kind of.”
“Hmm. The letters were that bad, were they?”
“Have you seen Starlight’s hornwriting?” Twilight answered, “But I can get used to it, eventually, and I don’t mind the students, either.”
“And your friends…”
“...are in touch with me, and no one has any complaints so far.”
“Of course,” agreed Luna. She sighed. “Well if… any… you could stay here, if you wish. We could train another day.”
“You know I’d love to,” Twilight mused, and she nuzzled Luna for a moment. “Stay here, I mean, with you.”
Luna shook her head, and tapped her chin. Her horn glowed, and a mahogany bookshelf, a dead ringer for the Canterlot library – actually, a dead ringer for Starswhirl’s bookshelf in his study, was conjured beside the tree.
“Some books, perhaps?” she teased. “From our good friend, naturally.”
“N-no, no I’m, fine, Luna,” replied Twilight. Heavens knew how long it’d take for her to pry her eyes off one of the books, now of all times. “I shouldn’t get distracted, not right now. Besides, you probably shouldn’t steal from Starswhirl’s library, you know. Especially straight from his dream, come on, Luna.”
“Oh, you’re one to talk. He’s asked me about a certain time-related spell, and its whereabouts,” Luna said with a roll of her eyes. The bookshelf disappeared into stardust. “But, am I not sufficient distraction?”
She batted her eyebrows, and Twilight groaned. Her partner’s bemused giggle didn’t help.
“Flirting, still need to work on that,” Twilight deadpanned, and she ruffled Luna’s mane playfully. She took a moment to feel the many strands and their flow, warm and cool both, and so very smooth and ticklish.
Luna pushed her hoof down, and smiled.
“Maybe, maybe,” She teased. “But my question remains. What troubles you so? Perhaps… perhaps a little bit of practice, with what you’ve learned thus far?”
Before Twilight could answer, the stars above had already turned, and danced in their many colours and twinkles, forming constellations and memories of bygone eras. At least, that was she thought it might have been. Her eyes never left Luna, and her partner caught on soon enough.
“Usually you’d have joined in with me,” Luna harrumphed. “Come now, Twilight. I see, so you do need the practice.”
“No… no it’s not that,” Twilight replied. Then she thought about it for a moment. She shouldn’t beat around the bush. Not here, not with her. And any second longer would be an eternity in dreamtime.
“Luna,” Twilight said steadily, “I think the amulet’s broken.”
No response came, at first. Twilight looked up at Luna, where she saw something dance behind those eyes. Then Luna spoke again, her tone careful and lighter.
“Broken?”
Twilight nodded.
“I see. But, you don’t seem to be… Twilynanas?” Luna asked, and Twilight giggled.
“Nope, no, and I know I probably should be – or shouldn’t – seeing how this is the most powerful magical artefact in millennia,” Twilight continued, and that corner of her mind was telling her, right now, she probably should be, “but no, I’m not.”
“Hmpf, perhaps you could have shown me instead, before we delved into the Realm,” Luna deadpanned. “May I see it? Tia may have created it, but I know what to do, I assure you.”
“I’m sure you do, Luna,” Twilight said, with a nervous smile. “But… okay, here’s the thing.”
Luna tilted her head. Twilight sighed. With her horn, the ghostly, wispy form of the Sun-and-Moon Amulet formed, and hardened.
“I don’t think it actually is broken, if that makes sense,” Twilight stated, her eyes looking over it. It certainly looked fine, conjured from her memory, for not a gear was out of place. “It’s just that… it’s kind of sluggish.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah,” Twilight said, shaking her head. “The hours… feel slower. I know they do. I checked the clocks. And at this rate– Sunburst and I did the math– all the clocks would be offset by an hour by Hearthswarming. You know how they really want the trains to run on time then…”
Luna nodded, with furrowed brows. Twilight took a deep breath, and released. “Luna, listen. There’s no easy way of saying it but… the Moon seems a little harder to move. You… wouldn’t happen to know why, right?”
Luna’s eyes shrunk into pinpricks, and her ears swivelled back. No answer came from her then, nor did it come for some time, in the longest pause they’ve had thus far.
Then, with a strangled gasp, she was gone in a blinding flash.
* * * * *
Following Luna wasn’t as hard as one might imagine. A simple charm from Cadance showed her the path, and so she saw the trail, illuminated amongst the many threads in this Realm. First, however, she had watered the garden, though, and swiftly she did. One musn’t let flowers wilt and decay when their gardener had left.
When Twilight felt she had done all she could do for the garden, what more could she do, if not stare at the accursed amulet she held, before she took flight, following the trail drawn in stardust.
The garden and fields may become endless, should she fly straight. But through the crisscrossing and woven threads of stardust, there she found the opening and entered it, letting the stardust embrace her and pull her in.
And when she emerged, she was met with a sanctuary. Deeper than where she’d ventured before, deeper than the very heart of the Realm, lay a cove. Here the water shimmered a pale blue under the moonlight, with only a waterfall on the far end to break the surface and leave ripples in its wake. Twilight stood there on a cliff’s edge, illuminated by the pale yellow bioluminescence of the mushroom she stood under, her eyes dashing here and there, taking in the sight of enormous, ethereal flowers not unlike the pale white moon orchids that grew wild and plentiful in the tropics, taller than she, and mushrooms that equalled it in height and grandeur.
Then, Twilight’s eyes fell upon whom she had sought, and there Luna was, at the central island. She was sitting down upon a bed, beneath the shade of a great purple flower, and its many shades reminded Twilight of her own feathers and fur.
She flew down, quiet as an owl, and landed upon the small island. Luna was facing away from her, but her ears flicked, with each step Twilight took, and her tail moved from side to side.
At last, Twilight reached her, and sat down beside her. She cleared her throat.
“So,” she began, “what was that all about?”
Luna glanced at her, her expression inscrutable. Her smile that followed didn’t reach her eyes.
“Oh, pardon me, Twilight,” she said, and then she laughed, her pitch higher than Twilight thought she was comfortable with. Her wings were pressed tight against her barrel, with hardly a midnight-blue feather out of place. “I seem to have gone off in a haste, indeed, yes!”
“Uh-uh,” Twilight replied. She cleared her throat. “So. Amulet. What do you think?”
‘Maybe I should slow down a little…’ Twilight thought. ‘No, no… she’d just keep avoiding it at this rate.’
Luna rubbed her chin, furrowing her brows. She shrugged, and turned her head fully to meet Twilight’s eyes.
“I cannot say for sure,” she said, “but perhaps my sister would have the answers you seek, instead. I am not so sure you saw what you think you saw, perhaps the train stations needed their clocks adjusted indeed, yes?”
“Right,” said Twilight. She narrowed her eyes. “Luna, is there something you need to tell me?”
“Mmm, no,” Luna answered, with a huff. She stood up, and turned around. Her wings spread out. “In any case, best for us to head back–”
She was interrupted by Twilight teleporting in front of her. And under the hard glare she had, Luna looked away, pawing at the ground.
“No, no no,” said Twilight, “don’t do that. I’m not stupid, Luna.”
Twilight’s horn lit up, and from it, a trail of stardust formed and coalesced until it formed a wooden stool. She promptly sat down upon it, holding her wings tight against her body and huffed, returning her glare to Luna. Now she was level with Luna.
“And I’m not going anywhere, until you tell me.”
Nothing, at first. Then Luna snorted.
“I thought you didn’t like sitting on stools,” Luna remarked, and Twilight rolled her eyes.
“I make special exceptions,” she harrumphed. “Don’t change the subject, cos’ I’m not getting off here until you do, and I know you won’t.”
“The stool, or the dream–”
“Luna.”
Twilight’s tone left little to question. She traced a hoof across Luna’s mane, gently, and Luna pressed her cheek against the hoof, her eyes closed. Then, she breathed out a sigh.
“I am afraid,” whispered Luna. She opened her eyes, and they were haggard. “I am afraid that… it would be my fault, indeed. I know it is, and you know it too, do you Twilight?”
“No,” Twilight answered promptly, “I didn’t come here because I thought it was you. I came here because… well I wanted your help.”
Luna said nothing, and she bit her lip. Twilight shook her head, and she glanced out to the waters around them. Nothing was quite out of place, to her eyes. Nothing here but the two of them, the stars above, and the Moon hanging low in the sky.
“Okay… okay,” she said gently. “Let’s… slow down, here. First things first…”
Twilight paused for a moment.
“Luna,” Twilight said, her voice low, “have you… been using the Tantabus again?”
“Nay,” replied Luna, her eyes still downcast.
“I need you to look at me, Luna,” Twilight pressed on, “and tell me it isn’t so. Please.”
Biting her lip, Luna looked up to meet her eyes. And then, she shook her head. That was enough, for Twilight to hop off her stool, letting it fade away, and close the distance between them.
“Good,” Twilight whispered, nuzzling her. “That’s all I need to know.”
She settled to lying down besides her marefriend, wrapping a wing around her. Warm, so very warm, embraced by the cool evening breeze.
“I’m not… well, I’m not mad at you, Luna,” she said. “I just need to know… why? Why would you think it’s your fault?”
Luna’s laugh, musical and gentle, turned harsh and bitter. She looked out, towards the cove.
“Is it not always?” she whispered. Stardust danced around her horn, coalescing into snowflakes. Little, asymmetrical snowflakes with jagged edges. Their intricate forms shifted and they shot out in several directions, leaving broken, fading trails in the air.
“It could have been my fault,” Twilight reminded her. Her horn joined Luna’s, with her own snowflakes joining Luna’s in a dance, as the two so often did in the night, Ponyville and Canterlot both. She stroked Luna gently with her wing. “I might’ve been the one who messed it up, you know. Who knows? Took me a while before I could do something as simple as this…”
A little snowflake followed the flick of her horn, and it landed on Luna’s nose. She sneezed, and let out a short chuckle.
“You succeeded, and that’s what mattered,” she said, “for many did aspire to be a dreamweaver, and few ever grasped it right.”
“I had a good teacher.”
“Me? Hah… only because you were a fast learner, ultimately,” she remarked. Twilight felt Luna tense up, for a moment, before relaxing under her gentle strokes. “Tia always was a better teacher…”
She sighed.
“Do you know, Twilight,” she whispered, “how many years have I trod this path? To raise the Moon, to guard our realms, from manticores and hydras, from nightmares and the fear that lies within? This dream of mine, shared with all of ponykind. This garden of mine, blooming everlasting?”
“Three thousand years,” answered Twilight.
“Two thousand,” Luna corrected. “And far longer in dreamtime. It has been my life, my duty, for so very long, that I know not of how old I truly am.”
She looked to her side, and Twilight met her eyes. They were old, tired eyes.
“This is the life I have been given, this is the duty I carry, borne out of my mark from the night it emerged and shined. And now I…”
Luna blinked, and let a few tears trail down her cheeks. Twilight moved her wing to wipe them, and she smiled.
“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered. “I have all the time in the world. I have… every waking hour to myself. All the time in the world to… to read, to stargaze… to garden, to nurture a small corner for myself at what I now call my home.”
“And not the only garden of yours that blooms, you know.”
“Indeed. And to look at Equestria, its many flowers blooming,” she said, pausing to lift Twilight's hoof and kiss it. “Like you… that is what I’ve wished, for so very long. To know it would be safe, even in my absence and…”
She put down Twilight’s hoof. But Twilight moved to hold it.
“And…?”
“I am afraid,” she whispered. “I am afraid that it would not be safe. I am afraid that I am not ready. And, and I know how I’ve promised you that I will help. I know I wish for you to bloom and come into your own, Twilight, and I am so very proud of the mare, the Princess you’ve become, and all the little flowers you’ve nurtured, from all your friends and the school… I’m proud of you.”
Twilight giggled.
“That’s a lot of pride,” she said, leaning against Luna. “But I didn’t do it alone. That’s why I asked you to help, remember?”
“I remember. How could I not?” Luna replied softly. “It was the happiest day I’ve had, since I laid my eyes upon my sister after so very long in the cold. Not that… having that date with you at last was not happy, no, not at all! I…”
“It’s okay, I get it, I get it… I was pretty happy, too, when you said yes. To both times. The date and the, well, favor, eheh...”
“I am glad. But… I suppose I have squandered my promise,” Luna said mournfully. She looked up at the Realm’s Moon, shining bright in a light purer than its counterpart in the waking world. “I could not do something as simple as let go, so much that… that I must have hung onto the very Moon, haven’t I, even unknowingly? To latch onto it… I… I evidently could not even trust you with this garden, this Realm and the land it permeates.”
And then Luna stood up, glancing down at Twilight, only for a moment, before she looked back up and closed her eyes. Twilight’s eyes followed her gaze upwards, and her eyes settled upon the Moon. From Luna’s horn, a trail of magic did flow, weaving in and around the Realm. It met with a trail of stardust, falling down from the Moon.
Then, it grew. It surrounded them, in many warm shades of green, yellow, violet and blue. It flowed, spreading out throughout the cove, a dance of the Northern Lights. Flowers grew where the stardust fell upon the enchanted soil. Lavender, morning glory and moon orchids, roses, sprouting beneath enchanted, magical mushrooms. Beneath the waters of the cove, life too flourished, where the reef glowed brightly in shades of red and pink and lavender, and purple, always purple, in its bioluminescence, together with the lights above.
It turned, before Twilight’s eyes, even as the dance continued. Flowers grew wild and untrimmed, wilting and decaying. Their shedded petals flew in the wind, leaving behind vines and thorns that rivalled the Everfree. The water dimmed, with the reef’s own decay, the sickening, dull grey spreading throughout the cove. Gone was the tranquil beauty before Twilight’s wide eyes, for all around them, from flowers to bushes to mushrooms, all were to fade...
And when Twilight could not weather the decay any further, her eyes fixed upon the dying life and uncontrolled growth, she too stood up with a grimace and glare, her horn aglow. She flared her wings, and cast her own woven thread. Luna’s magic faltered in the face of her own, stardust mingling with vines and leaves. It danced around them, pushing and pulling, and blessed them, pulling them from the brink, and turning those who’d been lost into golden stardust that joined the wind.
When she was done, with the dead embraced and moved to the ether, the beauty of this sanctuary had been restored, and above the two alicorns, the aurora danced in many shades of blue and purple.
Twilight let go of the breath she had held onto, and turned to face Luna. She saw eyes that brimmed with unspilt tears.
“I’m still here, Luna,” she reassured, when Luna’s lips quivered. “You know I won’t let this happen. You taught me, all of this, so that I could nurture the realms you and Celestia left me with. You’re counting on me to let Equestria and her people bloom, their lives and dreams, and I’d hate to disappoint you…”
She moved to hold Luna’s hoof, but her lover shied away, moving beneath the shadow of the flower above them.
“Luna, please,” Twilight whispered, her cheeks heated, her eyes wet with tears that threatened to spill. “Don’t…”
“Twilight, I love you,” she murmured, looking away. “I’ve loved you, from the moment I laid eyes upon you, within Harmony’s embrace, from the moment you’ve reached out to me, twice over, and allowed me to let go of my own fears. And yet now… now of all times, I cannot let go. I cannot let you be the mare you were supposed to be. All because… all because I cannot imagine a life without a duty, a realm… a garden to nurture and grow, as Equestria always has been for me.”
She looked down, back at Twilight. She had a smile upon her, a sad little smile, her dappled cheeks stained with tears.
“I must seem silly to you,” Luna bemoaned. “To hold on to this… this filly’s dream. Tia must be so disappointed.”
“No, you don’t,” Twilight said. “I get you. And Celestia’s not here. It’s… it’s just you and me.”
Twilight moved closer to her, one hoof after the other. Luna tensed up, and Twilight saw that she was biting her lower lip. Her wings were wrapped tight around her barrel.
“Come on, Luna,” said Twilight, steadily. “I’ve got someplace to show you.”
“Twilight…”
“Hush,” Twilight whispered, touching Luna’s lips with a hoof. “I… I don’t want to be alone either. Please. Trust me on this, will you?”
Once more, her horn glowed a shimmering lavender. The threads that flowed coalesced into a gateway, twinkling with stars, lined with a cloud of blue stardust. It hummed and rumbled before them, the wind blowing around them and from within
Twilight stood before the doorway, and looked up at Luna. She smiled, and moved to nuzzle. Luna’s wing wrapped around her, and she gave Twilight a hesitant little smile, in return. Her fur was warm against Twilight’s, and Twilight felt just right.
Together, they left the sanctuary, through the doorway.
* * * * *
They stood before a little red door. It wasn’t an old library, nor very grand. Carved out from a stocky old tree, seeded at Ponyville’s beginnings, it was a far cry from the Castle and School she had since set up in the town, and few would ever suspect a Princess would treasure it more than a memento.
But for Twilight Sparkle, Golden Oaks Library was home, and always would be.
“I… had not expected this,” Luna murmured. “Welcomed it, yes, of course… so many memories…”
The Ponyville of Twilight’s dreams was a tranquil, starlit place, and it was certainly no accident that she had guided her marefriend through the bridge over the stream, the empty statue plinth, and the town square, where Nightmare Night decorations lay scattered, but well-kept.
“Safest place I could think of. It feels nice,” Twilight said, glancing at Luna. “And it has a balcony, if you take a left turn. Oh, and telescopes, too. I liked the Moon keeping me company while I read.”
She smiled upon seeing Luna’s blush. Then, Twilight held her hoof at the door, and pushed it open.
Their eyes were met with a vast library of many doors, more books than most could dream of. Hallways comfortably lit with lanterns and the moonlight streaming in from the windows above. And, if she tried, she could even hear the hoots of the parliaments of owls that resided here.
‘Maybe room for possums?’ Twilight thought fleetingly, her gaze catching Luna’s awestruck look.
They arrived at the centre. A lounge, its floor marked by tree rings, with a small tree growing just off the centre. Two couches lay facing one another beneath the tree’s shade. Rows of books surrounded it on shelves neatly arranged to fit the circle. And, at last, a nice little round coffee table between them, with large, fluffy pillows on all sides.
A skip in her step, Twilight moved ahead of Luna, and turned to face her, wings outstretched. She offered Luna a nervous smile.
“Just my realm, no biggie,” she said, matter-of-factly. “Everything I wanted, everything I’ll need… all here.”
“Twilight…”
“Starswhirl isn’t going to live forever,” Twilight continued. “Few ponies will. Every library can burn down or be lost to woodworms, so I thought… why, why not keep them here?”
She tapped a hoof on her temple.
“Where it’ll be safe. A copy of, of everything I’ve known, every library, every book we could get. And… and with you, I know it won’t just be from me. I know everyone will be able to see it, eventually, through their dreams. But…”
Twilight sat down on a pillow, and then she shot Luna a little smile. Personally, she hoped this one wasn’t nervous.
“Luna,” she said, “I don’t want to do this alone.”
Luna bit her lip, and shuffled her feet.
“I… I am not so sure…”
“I am,” Twilight interjected. She stood up, and approached Luna, until only feet or two separated them. Luna ruffled her wings, and poised to take a step back. “I thought I was ready, too. Then… then I knew I’d be alone one day at the top. But why should I have to be? And then there’s you… I didn’t want to leave you and now–”
“And I should have let go!” Luna retorted, shaking her head. “I should not have… Tia didn’t plan for this.”
“We’ll talk to her. And we’ll have time. Plenty of it.”
“You’ll get bored,” Luna protested, and Twilight rolled her eyes.
“One second in dreamtime could be an eternity,” she countered. “I’m not gonna count it. I need only you. I love you, Luna. What more could I possibly ask, from you?”
Twilight saw Luna’s eyes dart around, under a few nervous beads of sweat. Finally, they settled back on her, and Twilight saw so much dancing behind the cyan shade.
“What if I won’t let go?” Luna asked, her voice wavering as she did. “What if I just weigh you down, when you should have soared, as yourself?”
Twilight moved forward, feeling the warmth of Luna’s fur.
“Then I’ll hold on to you. As long as you need me to. Like I always have, and like I always will, simple as that. And we’ll fly.”
She pressed against Luna a little tighter, and let out a short laugh.
“Don’t you forget that, Luna, you silly, silly mare,” Twilight chided. “Did you really think I’d let you go that easily?”
No response came, and she remained tightly pressed against Luna’s chest. She felt the other alicorn tense up, slightly. But then it passed, to her relief, for Luna breathed out a sigh. Twilight looked up in time to meet her love halfway through, with a tender, passionate kiss.
They broke away after an hour, maybe two, had passed, though they knew it could only be but a moment. What else could they do, looking deep into each other’s eyes, except laugh heartily.
So the night went on, as they preferred it.
* * * * *
“Are you ready?” asked Luna.
“I am,” replied Twilight. She smirked. “Are you?”
“Do not humour me, Twilight, dear,” Luna chided, with a glance, but her own smile persisted. Still the same answer, after all these years, and that was fine. Twilight cherished her voice, always. “Shall we?”
Twilight wrapped a wing around her partner, and smiled. She and Luna looked at one another, and she held Luna’s eyes level to her own. They were young, kind eyes. And nowadays, she didn’t have to tiptoe anymore, and that was good. Kisses were less complicated that way.
The endless library they stood in wasn’t so endless. Here they stood at the threshold, the boundaries between minds. And before them lay a field of lavender, lit by fireflies and the twinkling stars.
Twilight looked at the most beautiful mare she’d ever seen in her life, or would ever see, and steeled her resolve amidst the figurative butterflies in her chest.
“Together,” whispered Twilight, with a gentle tug and pull. She leapt, off the ethereal library’s balcony, taking Luna with her in a falling embrace, their twinkling manes billowing in the wind.
And they were off, in a trail of stardust, laughing free as they could be.
Author's Note
When you have an eternity to dance, sometimes you need to catch a break or two.
This story is independent of Moonbug, given the obvious difference in its pairing. But thematically, it is indeed linked by the same theme of gardens, so consider it a spiritual sequel to it.
I said Moonbug was probably my only attempt at a ship fic. I lied. I like Luna and Twilight too much not to write them together, my preferred pairing, and this contest gave me the chance to do so. How could I not? I adore them together 
.
Many a times a relationship has been described as a fiery blaze that has since simmered down to a smoldering, warm fire. And that’s a fire that needs to be maintained, every once so often.
Hope you’ve all enjoyed this tale
Cheers,
~Sledge
