Ensign Sparkle, Please Report to Stellar Cartography
Twilight Sparkle cantered through Ponyville with a smile on her muzzle and awe in her mind. It had only been a few moons, but she could already see the progress she'd made in a field she'd never even considered before the Summer Sun Celebration. She actually remembered the names of some of the ponies she passed by. Moreover, she cared that she could.
As the sun sank in the west, the air had just enough bite to it to remind her that fall was under way. She made her way back to Golden Oaks Library, which already felt more like home than her ivory tower in Canterlot—though Rarity insisted it was more of an eggshell—and wondered if her euphoria was a galloper's high or just the magic of friendship. "Spike! I'm back!"
Spike smirked from the lending desk. "Never thought I'd see you choosing to get out and exercise."
That made the bottom fall out of Twilight's sense of oneness with the universe. With a smirk of her own, she trotted up to him and poked him in the belly. "You're one to talk with all those late-night emeralds."
"I am a baby dragon. I've got a lot of growing to do."
"Besides, I want to be ready for the Running of the Leaves. It'll be a great way to expand my horizons."
"And get you ready for the next time you have to run from a hydra or a dragon or Nightmare Moon." Spike said that light-heartedly, but he still hugged Twilight's foreleg a little too tightly.
She leaned down and nuzzled him with a fond smile. "Hopefully I won't ever have to. And even if I do, Pinkie will probably let us know ahead of time."
"Yeah, well— hrrrk!" Spike's eyes bugged out as he clutched at his throat.
Twilight took a step back. "Spike?" She ran through the medical spells she knew and found them sorely lacking.
Thankfully, Spike just belched up a puff of smoke that resolved itself into a scroll. He caught it almost reflexively, but blinked at the wax seal rather than opening it. "Huh."
"What could the princess need?" Twilight gasped and pranced in place. "Did she respond to my invitation to attend the Running?"
Spike shrugged. "Dunno. It's not from the princess."
That stopped Twilight with two legs in the air, making her scramble for balance. "It isn't?"
"See for yourself." Spike turned the scroll so she could see the star-speckled shield on the seal.
"Shining Armor?" She took the scroll in her magic and unrolled it. "'Dear Twilight, come as soon as you're able, Princess Luna has...'" She trailed off and reread that last line a few more times. Every time, it was the same impossible sentence as before. "What!?"
"What?"
Twilight shook her head. "No time." She grabbed a set of saddlebags without looking, pacing as her magic grabbed everything she'd need for an overnight stay. It wasn't as graceful as Rarity in full creative mode, but it didn't need to be. "Spike, I may not be back until tomorrow. You're in charge of the library until I get back."
"I am?" he said, ducking under a high-velocity toothbrush.
Twilight spared a bit of concentration to give him a sour look. "If you don't know what to do by now, we have other problems."
"I mean, sure, but what's going on?" Spike leapt for Shining's letter, still held in a telekinetic bubble just above his reach. "Can I help?"
Twilight nodded as she buckled the saddlebags around her barrel. "Yes, by watching over the place so I don't have to worry about it while getting Dad out of prison."
"Got it." As she galloped out of the library, Twilight heard Spike shout after her, "Wait, while you're doing what?"
The dungeons of Castle Canterlot had definitely seen better days. Before now, Twilight hadn't thought this much grime, dust, and rust could be found in the entire castle, much less one corridor of one sub-basement. Irregular drips from various holes in the stonework echoed along the row of cells, and the scents of mildew and neglect filled the air.
She looked to Shining Armor. He was about eight links too high on the chain of command to be a dungeon guard, but that same position meant he could bend the rules a little, especially when it came to family. “Is this actually happening?” she said.
Shining nodded. “Yes, Twily, this is actually happening. For the record, I don't find it any easier to believe than you do.” He sighed and shook his head. “Always figured Mom would be the one who ended up in here.”
“Shiny!”
Night Light chuckled from behind cold-iron bars. “He’s not the only one.” He scowled and crossed his forelegs. “But darn it, sometimes you just have to take a stand.”
Twilight groaned and sat, the better to massage both temples at the same time. “Could somepony just tell me how all of this started? Shiny's letter didn't offer any details.”
“We believe We can be of assistance there.”
Twilight jumped to attention, joining Shining in bowing as Princess Luna strode towards them. “Your Highness.”
“Rise, subjects," Luna bade them. "Thou especially, Dame Twilight Sparkle. Out of all Our ponies, thou hast the least reason to supplicate thyself before Us.”
Twilight looked up and risked a grin. It was that or have her jaw drop at how Luna had shot up since they'd last met face to face, or the stars now twinkling in the princess’s mane. “It’s good to see you again. You’re sounding a lot more… modern than last time.”
Luna nodded. “Soþ.”
“Uh…”
“’Twas a jest, good Twilight," Luna said with a hint of a grin. "Thy spell is working as intended, letting Our speech follow the long journey Equish took in Our absence.”
“Oh.” Twilight let herself relax and put thoughts of having to debug that monstrosity of a heuristic thaumic process aside. It had seemed like the best option after Princess Celestia told her Luna could barely understand modern language, smiling and nodding her way through her first Ponyville party. Still, even Twilight had thought the thing looked horrifyingly complex when she'd suggested it. “Good.”
“Would that We could have retained the knowledge the Nightmare gleaned from a millennium of lurking in Our ponies’ dreams…” Luna shook her head. “But there be naught we can do about that now. To the matters at hoof. Dame Sparkle, Captain Armor, your father paid us a most grievous disrespect this past night.”
“All due respect, Your Highness,” Shining said with long experience of not stepping on an alicorn’s hipposandals, “but you do realize that throwing ponies in the dungeon isn’t really done anymore?”
Luna looked around, taking the gloom and dank that permeated the cells. “Aye, Our Sister has alerted Us to such. And the state of the gaol made it more than clear that it has seen little recent use. But We cannot allow your sire’s offenses to go by with naught but a slap on the pastern.”
Distractions out of the way, Twilight’s mind rounded back to the issue at hoof. “But what did he do?”
Luna snorted and glared at Night Light. “Thou hast not told thy daughter, blackguard?”
“I just got here, Your Highness,” said Twilight. “We never really got the chance.”
“Very well. We held Our court yesternight…”
A throne room built for Celestia poorly matched Luna's desired aesthetics for Night Court, but filling the ceiling with illusory stars and adding a few cushions to keep her from getting lost in the plus-sized throne helped. She certainly felt confident enough to deliver judgement to the latest case brought before her.
“And so," Luna concluded, "We find for Master Practical Problem, who shall be granted three of thy fattest cattle." She rapped the arm of the throne with a moonsilver-shod hoof to seal the pronouncement. Plaintiff and defendant both looked confused more than anything. One of the bat-winged chiropteron attendants whispered into Luna's ear.
She flicked that ear and, in a mutter that carried halfway across the room, said, "Well, what do the nobility use for concubines these days?" After another whisper, she rolled her eyes. "Oh, very well, restitution in bits it is. Next case.”
Once the room was clear, the herald beat his spear against the floor and called out, “Presenting Lord Night Light of House Twinkle, representing the Canterlot Astronomical Society.”
The doors to the throne room swung open, admitting the stallion, who knelt before his sovereign. “Your Highness.”
“Rise, Lord Twinkle," Luna said with a smile. "What business has thy society for Us this night?”
"Well, Your Highness, you know that we have enthusiastically welcomed your return."
"Indeed. It has been most gratifying to learn of ponies who so loved Our night, though it declined from its greatest splendor in Our absence. The effort you have put into better appreciating it is greatly appreciated in turn, and We treasure Our honorary membership in such august ranks." Luna noted Night Light's flattened ears and added, "We hope you have all enjoyed Our efforts to restore the glory of the night."
He bit his lip, looking everywhere but at her before saying, "Actually, that's the problem."
Luna arched an eyebrow. "Explain."
"Your Highness, our studies assume that the stars will stay in the same positions relative to one another from night to night." Night Light looked out through one of the throne room's clear windows, to the bright stars poking out through Canterlot's competing lights. "And in the last few weeks, well, they haven't." After a deep breath, he finally faced her. "As such, I come with a formal request that you cease distorting the night sky.”
Luna stared at him until the faint echoes of the request faded to silence. Finally, she said, “Be this a jest? Thou wouldst not be the first to test the patience and good humor of the 'new' princess. And We warn thee, though We once bore the Element of Laughter, We take sidereal matters very seriously.”
“So do we, Your Highness. And what I can only call your continued vandalism of the heavens is making our work very difficult.”
“Vandalism." Luna got to her hooves, flaring her wings at the top of the dais. Night Guards slipped out from seemingly empty shadows around the room, and even the herald bared his fangs. "Vandalism!? Thou callest an alicorn exercising her natural control over her domain vandalism?”
The display only seemed to strengthen Night Light's resolve, all signs of hesitation fading from his steadier stance. “Much as I would if your sister decided to make the sun do loops.”
She scoffed at the comparison. “The night sky is not the mundane creature that is the day. It requires maintenance. Adjustment. Refinement. All things Our Sister has neglected for centuries, purposefully leaving the sky as We last left it in Her ignorance. This 'distortion,' as thou wouldst have it, be more sorely needed now than ever.”
“Well if you must do it, then surely there’s a proper procedure for it.”
That got a terse nod. “There is, aye. We will the stars into their new positions and they are happy to obey." Luna glared as she added, "And Our ponies leave Us to it.”
Night Light shook his head. “Your Highness, you've asked us not to leave you to it. By becoming a member of the Society, honorary or not, you're expected to abide by the conduct expected of its members, and rearranging the heavens like a filly who can’t decide how she wants her new ribbons does not qualify."
Luna narrowed her eyes. “Remember thy place, Lord Twinkle. Thou standest here at our pleasure, and We grow increasingly displeased.” Some of the stars filling the throne room shifted, revealing themselves as the slit-pupiled eyes of another platoon of Night Guards roosting in the rafters.
If Night Light even noticed them, he gave no indication. “Between your niece foalsitting and your sister coming for Hearth’s Warming, Your Highness, I have often been reminded that at the end of the day, alicorns are still ponies.”
“We will grant you that," Luna allowed. "But forget not which pony holds this court and which is rapidly earning Her contempt. We be neither Celestia nor Cadence, and thou wouldst do well to remember that.”
Her attendant raced to her side, hovering there and whispering frantically.
“We do not care whose father he is!" Luna hummed to herself. "Though we now see whence came Dame Sparkle’s sense of daring. All this family seems brave unto madness. ‘Tis admirable when it is not so irritating.”
Night Light cleared his throat. “I’m right here, Your Highness.”
“We are all too aware, Lord Twinkle.”
“Look, I’m a pony of science, as are my colleagues. Could you at least explain why the sky needs you to keep rearranging the stars on a whim?”
Luna glared at that. “You think Our reasons whimsy?" She began pacing about the dais of the throne. "Why should We explain aught to one who has come to his own conclusions? Especially when thy much-vaunted science cannot fathom the most basic truths of the night?”
Night Light sighed. “Believe me, Your Highness, I’m the diplomatic member of my group. I’m the one who actually gets out of the observatory more than once a week. If you want a herd of irate unicorns stampeding in here, shoving star charts in your muzzle, and barking orders like you’re a grad student, go right ahead. If you refuse to stop—"
"Which We most emphatically do."
"At least help me understand why you're doing this. I can keep them off your back and let you get that work done.”
Luna ceased her pacing, giving the stallion a long, judging look. He didn't flinch, even as the guards stalked closer to him. “If this is a threat, it is at least a novel one.”
Night Light waved his head from side to side. “More a warning.”
“Hmm." After another moment, Luna returned to the throne. A single wing gesture sent the guards back to their usual posts, though none bothered to conceal themselves again. "Very well, astronomer," she said once she was settled once more. "We shall spare thee the full truth, in part for thy own sake and in part because We have other petitioners this night. In truth, We need not normally shift the stars so frequently as We have of late. And the fault there is Our own.
"Consider Our state just before Our banishment and Our Sister’s noble but misguided attempt to curate Our night sky. Thou longest for constellations crafted by a mind half-mad with loneliness and the temptations of the shadows." Luna lit her horn, arranging the room's stars into a series of forms that hurt to look at for too long. "Wert thou inspired to thy calling by the graceful elegance of Carnifex, the butcher-griffon? Did Evisceratus, the blade-spider, inspire poet and artist alike? Didst thou delight thy foals with whimsical tales of Krastos, the glue-maker?”
“Well..." Night Light blinked the afterimages of the foul sigils out of his eyes and shrugged. "Honestly, Your Highness, I don’t recognize any of those.”
“What? Art thou blind? Evisceratus squatted across near half the eastern sky." Luna jabbed a hoof at the behemoth's former home. "We needed three nights to pick it apart such that it would not fall to earth like the ursae.”
“Your Highness, I know you felt isolated when you made those constellations." Night Light spoke gently and inoffensively, and the tone caused Luna more offense than outright mockery would have. "Did you ever actually tell anypony else about them?”
A princess was above embarrassment, and thus Luna flushed with anger. “We fail to see the relevance of thy query. Besides, it matters not. Anypony can draw lines in the sky and tell stories about them. Only We can tell those stories to the sky itself. It longs for new material.”
“Well, your ponies long for stability. Organization. Reliability.”
Luna dismissed the argument with a wave of her hoof. “We have not shifted the sailing stars. The mariners may look to them as ever.”
Night Light looked out the window. “And which ones are the sailing stars, Your Highness?”
“Must We tell you ponies everything?”
“It would be nice." He took a deep breath. "It’s not just your sky anymore, Your Highness. Ponies care about it these days, and you altering it the way you have without telling us why makes it seem like you don’t care about us.”
“Hmm." After a few moments, Luna gave a grudging nod. "We confess, We are unused to ponies who truly care about Our night outside of the chiroptera.”
Night Light brought a hoof to his heart. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
“We see." Luna raised her hoof, ready to seal her decision. "We shall take thy request under advisement, Lord Twinkle. But remember that We are the ultimate authority in the management of Our night, and answer to no other.”
That got a nod. “Understood, Your Highness.”
Twilight frowned. “Wait, how did that lead to Dad in the dungeon?”
Luna glared at the prisoner. “It would not have, had he held his tongue a bit longer.”
“It has been a while since Celestia could celebrate with us," said Night Light. He gave a nervous chuckle. "I, ah, may have forgotten how good alicorn hearing is.”
"I'm not sure how you can," Shining muttered.
“Daaaad." Twilight facehoofed. "What did you say?”
“Yes, blackguard," said Luna, glaring through the bars. "Tell them what blather so roused Our fury.”
Night Light looked down, trailing a hooftip in the dust. Barely loud enough to be heard, he mumbled, “Bad enough that she wrecked the Moon.”
Twilight sat again. This needed two hooves. “Oh, Dad.”
“Wrecked the Moon. Wrecked it!" Luna began pacing the length of the dungeon, wings flared and voice shaking dust from the ceiling. "Oh, We suppose there is a certain logic at work. If dismantling the malicious stars hanging over Equestria like so many swords of Damoocles is vandalism, then yes, cleansing the Moon of its scars both physical and metaphysical is clearly a form of wreckage.”
Twilight chased after her when she passed by. “Dad’s really passionate about the stars, Princess Luna—”
“And that much We admire about him. It is the only reason We have not sent him to Our Moon to provide a new profile, since he so misses the last one!" Luna sneered. "Doubtless his colleagues would hail him as a hero for undoing some small part of the ongoing damage.”
"Well, he's already been in prison for almost a day. I think we've moved past 'slap on the pastern' at this point."
"And even the crown can't actually detain somepony without charges for longer than twenty-four hours, Your Highness," Shining added.
Luna snorted. "Is lèse-majesté no longer a crime?"
Twilight shook her head. "Not since Celestia passed the Give Myself a Sense of Humor Act of 726."
That got a brief smirk out of Luna. "An ambitious law indeed."
“I don’t suppose he could apologize?”
Luna gritted her teeth for a few moments. “For you, Dame Sparkle, We are willing to overlook even this egregious insult. The once.”
"Great!"
Night Light crossed his forelegs and stuck his muzzle in the air. “Well, I have no intention of apologizing.”
Luna simply nodded and turned towards the exit. “Then rot.”
Twilight looked back and forth between the two of them. “Dad! Luna!" She turned to her only hope. "Shiny!”
He dashed ahead of Luna, blocking her way with all the obstinacy the Guard's finest could offer. “Your Highness.”
“Captain Armor,” she said flatly.
“Dad," said Twilight, "be reasonable!”
Night Light shook his head. “I’m sorry, Twily, but I can’t budge on this one.”
“Really? This coming from the stallion who told me everypony needs to learn how to compromise?”
“Oh, I tried, but I just couldn't accept 'I'll take it under advisement.' After all, I also told you that sometimes, a pony has to stick to their principles. And this is one of those times." Night Light looked straight into his daughter's eyes. "She’s misshelving the stars, Twily.”
“I… That’s…" Twilight took a few stumbling steps back from the cell, body shaking in horror. "You, you can’t…”
Luna frowned at the reaction. “Is your sister well, Captain Armor?”
“Dad’s playing dirty," said Shining. "Have you encountered the term ‘psychological warfare’ yet, Your Highness?”
That got a smirk. “Captain, you speak to the mare who invented it.”
“Ah." Shining cleared his throat. "Right.”
Twilight managed to get her hooves back under her. “It’s…" She retched, cheeks bulging before she could go on. "It’s okay, Dad. They’re her stars. She can sort them however she wants. That’s her right." She nodded as if to assure herself. "I’ve resorted Golden Oaks half a dozen times since I moved to Ponyville.”
“You're still running a library, Twily. Ponies need to know where to find what they're looking for. How are we supposed to get any research done if we have to spend half the night figuring out where she hid Sirius?”
“Dad, this is going to hurt, but you need to hear it." Twilight took a deep breath. "As much as ponies like you or I like to think that the world is perfectly explicable and understandable, there are stranger mysteries at work. Deep truths that can’t be analyzed or studied. I’m learning that every day I spend in Ponyville. And you need to accept that there are a lot of deep truths in the night sky. More than we ever suspected.”
“Twily..." Night Light looked at her with pride in his eyes before shaking his head. "That’s beautiful, but it’s also the biggest pile of horse hockey since the Stallion Cup finals.”
Shining cleared his throat. “It really isn’t, Dad. Specialist de Corps?”
A blindingly green earth stallion emerged from the depths of Luna's mane, guard helmet barely containing the safety-vest orange curls poking out of it at every angle. He turned to Shining and saluted. “Sir?”
“As you were, soldier. Just demonstrating a point for my father.” Shining nodded to Night Light, whose jaw had nearly hit the floor.
“Yes, sir.” Specialist de Corps pulled a slide whistle out from somewhere and provided his own soundtrack as he descended back into the starry void.
“You recruited a party pony?” said Twilight.
Shining nodded. “We may not have the biggest budget to work with, but there’s enough for DARPON to try a few novel projects. And Esprit de Corps’s one of the best ponies I’ve had the pleasure of working with.”
“Novel indeed." Luna shook her head with a smile on her muzzle. "’Twas the custom to keep a few born jesters in each battalion in my time. They are terrifying creatures when acting to defend their friends. More so if they feel they have nothing left to defend.”
“But..." Night Light still stared at Luna, one eyelid starting to twitch. "But how did he—”
“Trust me, Dad," said Twilight, "you’re happier not knowing.”
“But—”
“I literally don’t know how I survived trying to analyze my friend Pinkie Pie." Twilight shuddered. "And that’s before considering the hydra.”
Shining frowned. “Wait, I never heard about any hydras.”
“Anyway, the point is that astronomy is going to change, and you need to think about how you’re going to face that change. And I know change can be scary." Twilight put a hoof against the bars of the cell door and smiled. "But it turned out well for me, and it can turn out well for you too.”
Night Light stared at her for a few moments. Finally, he stood, walked to the door, and pressed his hoof against Twilight's as best he could. “Princess? You have my apology for my harsh words. You clearly have much to teach us, and I’d like to think the Astronomical Society has a lot to teach you in turn. We’ve come a long way in the last thousand years." He chuckled. "And, well, my colleagues will need convincing as well.”
Luna lit her horn, and the lock opened with a heavy clunk. As Night Light made his way out of the cell and into his foals' forelegs, she said, “Given the circumstances, We can forgive your transgression, Lord Twinkle. In truth, running roughshod over centuries of tradition is not how We wish to be remembered by Equestria’s stargazers. The current rearrangement is a grim necessity. After that, we can work together to find a plan that pleases all parties, yet holds back the horrors beyond the veil.”
That got father and children to all look up from the three-pony hug pile. “Wait, what?”
Luna rolled her eyes. “Truly, We must wonder if thou hast even glanced at the stars thou cherish so.”
Galloping hooves brought everypony's attention to the entrance of the dungeon and a huffing Twilight Velvet. “Sorry it took me so long! A. K. called in a favor from college, and…" She trailed off as she registered the scene. "Honey? You’re free?”
“Mostly thanks to Twily convincing me I was wrong.” Night Light tousled his daughter's hair.
"Dad!" Twilight Sparkle giggled despite her shout.
“You did?" said Velvet. "Without citing at least five peer-reviewed sources?”
Shining smirked. “We had live evidence.”
“Well, we can talk about it at home.” Velvet stumbled, leaning against a rough wall. “After I recover from the adrenaline crash. Can't believe I let myself get that soft after I had Shining.”
Luna moved to her side. “Allow Us to offer Our aid, Lady Twinkle. After this, We would happily better know the family of our savior. A line of heroes, clearly, and one well worth Our consideration.”
“Oh! Um, sure." Velvet swayed, sides still heaving. "Though we may have to order pizza.”
“Fie on thy flatbreads!" Luna picked her up bodily and led the march up to the surface. "We are already in Castle Canterlot. We shall act as hostess for such honored guests.”
At the rear of the procession, Shining smiled at Twilight Sparkle. “You did good, Twily.”
“You really think so?”
“Oh yeah." He grinned. "You know, after this whole ‘friendship student’ thing, you might have a future in diplomacy.”
Twilight scoffed. “Come on, Shiny. Me, a diplomat? I’d probably bore the dignitaries to tears.”
“See? You’d be a natural.”
The acoustics of the old tunnels carried a particular phrase to the siblings with perfect clarity: “And so, by delayed droit du seigneuresse—”
Twilight's eyes went wide. “Then let’s hope I can defuse that!” She galloped ahead.
Shining watched her go. “Probably a bad time to tell her about the engagement.”
Author's Note
We've gotten plenty of adrenaline junkie Twilight Velvet. Night Light deserves some love too. Especially when he's at least as organized as his daughter and thus carries at least as much potential for epic nerd rage.
To be clear, Twilight merely recommended the spell that got Luna's diction up to Early Modern Equish, she didn’t create it. And since Luna’s addressing friends or prisoners rather than a crowd of her subjects, the Royal Canterlot Voice didn't come up.
Hey, I've got to explain how Twilight recognized Luna but didn't know about the vocal tics during that first Nightmare Night somehow.
Friendly reminder that, based on the theme song, Luna didn't have a throne of her own until Season 8.
Twilight being minor nobility is hardly an original idea, but that's because it works well. Plus, it does add a few members of the Equestrian peerage who are more than copy-pastes of the least charitable interpretation of Blueblood. House Twinkle in particular is borrowed from Estee.
For more of Celestia spending time with Twilight's family, see A Royal Appearance.
Damoocles was, of course, a minotaur.
DARPON, the Defense Advanced Research Projects Operational Network, is my own creation, at least in terms of that specific iteration of the backronym. Though this is the first time it's shown up outside of a Glimmer splinter.
Thanks for reading. 
