Restore the Queen.

Chapter 4.
Vague Anxieties.

Umbra sucked for breath under the pressure of this ethereal burden pressing on her chest. Kicking and thrashing unconsciously in bed, the unicorn sweat profusely as the images within her mind assaulted her sleep. Without pause, without quarter and without mercy, the restless Queen faced the scathing attack of her own psyche trying to piece discordant songs and garbled screeches together. These things, these places, these ponies she saw. They were all gone- long gone. She had made sure of just that many lifetimes ago. She buried these apparitions to prevent this very horrid haunt from visiting her again.

From unseen vantage points inside her they hurled words and insults and shouts. In a vast sea of nothingness with a definite and painful sense of place, the pony could only cower and wait for the pain to end. A sheet of icy rain fell invisibly on her as the spirits shrouding her delivered their punishment again and again.

“Take that thing to the river and do what must be done.”

“I have failed all those that came before me. I am not fit to carry this name.”

“Weakness made us one. Now we shall suffer together with hooves intertwined forever.”

“Disgusting halfbreed.”

That name. That wretched, foul and disgusting name. It alone was enough to catapult Umbra into a shocking state of awareness once again. Jostled awake and panting against the mattress, your unicorn wife squirmed and rolled in the crowded mess of the nest. The thinner and more breathable blankets for this time of year constantly slipped off pony and human bodies alike. Umbra rapidly found herself without protection from the harsh reality suddenly closing in around her. Green and red eyes danced from place to place in this familiar room she called a bed chamber, but nothing offered her an ounce of safety or a whisper of reassurance.

She was suddenly afraid. Really and truly afraid. Of what? Of who? Or even why, she couldn’t quite tell. The lack of answers reinforced this quivering terror in her, as it was exceptionally rare that the wise and aggressive pony couldn’t rationalize herself back to a calmer state. Of all the horrible things she had seen and done, this was the most terrific by far. Something had truly gotten to her and shot straight through ancient and heavy armor. The mare’s mind drowned in fear that hid away higher thoughts and reason. Long locks of her hair were everywhere in the bed, spread out and soaked with sweat in places. Umbra was splayed, she was exposed and vulnerable to the hovering things waiting to strike. Imaginary or real, these feelings of anxiety didn’t care about the difference.

Her chest heaved and her hooves pawed around for something to help her, something to save her from this realm of confusion and darkness. Her memories and dreams were shrouded in the fog of a confused mind slapped awake by a nightmare and blended together with the real world. The blackness that comforted her before was now a collapsing cave wall inching closer and closer with suffocating cold to greet her again.

There had to be a shield from this force somewhere. She wasn’t helpless, for she would never allow such a state. Searching around, the ebon unicorn quickly came upon her still and heavy aegis. Thankfully, just as you always had, your body was nearby and pulling her in. Gravity depressed the mattress inwards beneath you and made it slope toward your body. It made mare and blanket alike cling to you, that is if Derpy didn’t flatten herself out in the summer months to air out her wings. Turning herself about quietly and cautiously approaching your face, Umbra came close enough to smell the masculine scent emanating off your neck before she spoke.

“Anonymous… art thou awake?” She whimpered into the nothingness, praying for a response. She begged a higher power for you to say something, for nothing else could possibly save her uneasy mind. Her hooves stopped touching around the still bed in search of answers, instead choosing to tuck in tightly against her belly to keep any attacker away from her sensitive and vulnerable figure. Gritting her teeth and fighting to conserve her resolve, Umbra let free a sigh of unparalleled relief when you rolled over and answered groggily.

“Rrrph… yeah, yeah. I’m here, Sugar. I’m here.” You answered with a dry and ragged voice. Crystalline human eyes cut through the darkness when moonlight caught them so perfectly and fired an infectious spear through Umbra’s heart. She caught herself staring into your drained expression, the shaggy facial hair and sharp contours of a man’s face bringing warmth back to her strangely freezing body. A trained professional, you immediately noticed with a skilled gaze that something was amiss. Your confident and indulgent wife was without a blanket, without cuddles and shivering. She bit her lip and held her ears at attention, acting as if someone was waiting in the darkness to leap out and bite her.

“Whoa, what gives, Umbra?” You asked solemnly as the pony scooted forward and buried herself in you. She refused any words or any resistance, not that there was much to overcome in the first place. She knew your body, she knew you better than almost any pony in all Equestria. Rolling into your grasp and naturally falling into you was easy then, as if she was crafted to fit between your arms and chest without issue. Her breaths hitched and her snout flared wide to take in the reassuring, secure aroma of a sleepy human male. You could only lay there as she became one with you, her fur scrubbing into your skin and her firm motions assuring you wouldn’t ever let go.

“Anonymous… I’m cold.” She mumbled into your neck, desperate for a tighter and tighter grip on her human. Fidgeting somewhat and trying to help her calm down, it was highly apparent that you were better off just laying there and letting her be your pillow. Umbra went still as a rock when she finally made herself properly comfortable. Your bicep below her head, your neck against her snout and your hands holding her hips were all she needed to feel right again. Those ghosts, those screaming phantoms of mistakes made so long ago, were beaten back. They couldn’t get through you. A human was just too solid and strong. Every fiber of your being defended your wife.

You relented and embraced her gently, squeezing to make her aware of your love and care. Neither of your mares were ravenous cuddle monsters in the summer, the heat turning your bed into a sweaty mess where each one took their third of the mattress and simply fought to stay asleep. But grasping Umbra now, running your fingers through her fur and feeling her icy hooves wiggle between your thighs shocked you with licks of frigid discomfort.

“Wha-... Umbra? You’re shakin’ like a leaf.” You whispered into her ear, letting your breath warm the twitching flap. Umbra whined and pulled in even closer to treat you as a living, manly space heater. An arm concealed most of her under the thin plaid blanket strewn across the bed, another few swipes and pulls tucking her long mane against her curved back. She adored the sensation of your fingers dragging through her silky hair, especially when nails scraped along her scalp and lit off fireworks within her heart.

“Please… please hold me. Anonymous, I want to be held.” Umbra more whined than whispered to you, confiding a deep and serious need. You weren’t deaf to her desires, though you still grasped gently to the pony and made sure she was never anything but cradled in the most delicate manner. She suffocated herself against your body with nuzzles and kisses and pushes into your face like a dog thrilled to see their master come home.

“What’s wrong, Babygirl?” You huffed through the slow moving and intimate melee.

“Keep me close. Please. I don’t want to be alone again.” She simpered into you with muffled huffs and gasps. All ten fingers combed across her back and neck, crawling up higher and higher until you were holding her head and kissing her cheek lazily.

“Talk to me, Umbra.” You groaned when her fangs nipped at your chin and jaw, her dreary stare sending bolts of lightning through you when fixed so intensely to your eyes.

“What’s bothering you? Tell me, Babygirl.” She refused, instead shutting her eyes and running a hoof along your broad chest.

“Why are you awake, my King?” Umbra’s words were almost inaudible, even in the tiny space between your faces. You sighed and stroked her ear between your fingers, effectively melting the Queen into a slurried mess of gripping legs and twitching muscles.

“Dreams again. Weird ones.” She could sense your exasperation. Through your voice and your weak grip, Umbra could positively taste your lack of energy. She snarled gently at the idea of her own troubling ghosts stealing away your peaceful rest as well. A disgusting thing to do, even for their invisible and intangible forces. If they could not terrify her and disrupt her, then they would attack her husband. A low and dirty tactic Umbra would have to combat.

“Rrrph… come. Come to me.” She mumbled lazily, clamoring higher onto your body and resting her cheek against yours. Despite cutting off some of your air and stealing any sense of personal space you had, it was quite difficult to remove the warm and fluffy mare from your face.

“I will protect you… Just come closer.” Her voice went straight from her jaw bone into yours, shuddering throughout your skull like church bells in an ancient city. A sigh left the both of you as the moon lowered in the sky and refused to bestow either of you with sleep. Your wife remained cold to the touch wherever you weren’t smothering her. Along her back and legs, Umbra’s body lost all semblance of heat and called for your attention. Blankets were completely ineffective, only a masculine and firm grip bringing back her ability to relax. Likewise, you were clearly restless throughout the night. Umbra refused to fall asleep and felt every moment of your fatigue.

Lifeless shifts there, a beleaguered sigh here and a constant readjusting to keep muscles from stiffening. It tormented her to see you so helpless. She was inspired to help however she could, despite most of her efforts hardly being conducive to restorative rest. Laying on your back and staring at the ceiling, she would distract your wandering mind with gentle kisses. Cracking joints in your back invited her hooves to run along the bumpy path of your spine and gently follow the trail toward whichever bundle of nerves complained. Red magic tucked the blankets in against your back and shoulders, assuring that not a single breath of cold air could harm her man.

All night, you two remained tangled in a sleepless and rough mess of limb and fur. Black fluff clung to your entire body from head to toe by the time dawn broke over the mountains outside. You breathed through a mask of Umbra’s all-consuming mane and drowned in her ash flavored, sweet scent. Her fur and hair clung to every bit of your body and made sure you would carry her memory for the rest of the day. Tender and pillowy lips hovered within millimeters of your face during the entire exchange, as at any moment during this sleepless pursuit you might be called upon to comfort and kiss your Queen.

Tides surged inside her, terrible currents ploughed and beat against her heart and threatened to spill out of her mouth at any moment. You could feel it in her, the storage of secrets and regrets growing so mammoth and painful that even stalwart and ancient Umbra struggled to hold them back. When she pressed you back and held you down with both hooves on your shoulders, it was clearly the only way to vent these frustrations without confessing. Kissing and holding and moaning for your wife was never an unpleasant affair, but the deeper and more concentrated portions of your mind wished dearly that she would just speak up.

“Hahhhnnng… mmmh… Anonymous… my King. Mine forever.” She groaned deeply into your face with lips slicked by spittle and sweat. Somewhere in the passage of time, you ended up rolling onto her and holding Umbra down. She flattened into a splatter of a mare, dark fur and mane spreading out like a pattern of destruction as you fought to get some sleep.

“Good morning, Bubby.” A familiar voice whispered to you in the strange realm between sleep and consciousness, another soft kiss on your lips lost in the moment.

“Poppy? Are you awa- oh. Sorry, sorry.” Another said, albeit with a definite distance between you and it. Time and space blurred together until sunlight finally became powerful enough to slice through them both and burn your eyes. Delicate organs singed with the sudden stimulation and made you retreat behind your Queen’s head. She likewise growled in frustration, pushing herself below your arm and whining in protest.

“Uuuhng… art thou still awake?” Umbra grumbled without opening her eyes.

“Yeah… didn’t sleep.” You admitted into her ear, kissing it casually and running your fingers along the bulge of her belly.

“You?”

“No.” She huffed in defeat, covering her eyes with your arm and suckling on the smooth skin there.

“Might as well get up… make some coffee.” Umbra whined particularly loud when you attempted to extract yourself from the nest, a heavy burden of mare butt suddenly pressed against your hips.

“No, no, no… stay with me.” She commanded sleepily, a freedom from your weight letting her whip around quickly and latch onto your body.

“Can we not just sleep the day away, my King? You’ve been such a good comforter I cannot bear to let you be.” Such a notion didn’t really disturb you. Tomorrow you would be back at work and sweating away, yet without hardly a night’s sleep to help you recover. Lounging with Umbra for the entire day and perhaps even snaring Derpy into the mix tickled your heart, but something was still in need of addressing. The irritating nag of responsibility reared its ugly head again when you reached across the mattress and stole the wretched alarm clock from its post on the nightstand.

“You’ve got that meeting with Rose in an hour.” You stated coldly, trying to prompt her into action. Rather than leap from bed and begin to dress herself however, Umbra simply groaned and buried her face deeper into your chest.

“Nnnno, no, no… Later. The morning’s just arrived. She cannot be coming this early.” You huffed and held her head against your firm, flat pectorals with a hand. She enjoyed listening to your thundering heart dearly, thus it was a perfect way to melt your Queen into a more receptive state.

“It’s noon.” You corrected, earning yet another muffled noise from the Queen. Only then did she surrender to the tide of reality. Her body loosened and relaxed beneath you, allowing activity to be forced unto her.

“Ugh… fine. Yes. Okay.” She whimpered, still forcing you to do the heavy lifting.

Rising from the tangle below, you set about preparing your haughty and pretty mare for her simple day. She watched you go with intent eyes nearly hidden beneath her blankets, all the while swishing her tail and huffing your masculine scent from the soft fibers. Her morning regiment was relatively simple, albeit something you had to take immense care in performing. First, she needed to be thoroughly brushed to prevent her enormous stores of hair from turning into a matted mess. The schedule was normally a rotation between Umbra and Derpy, as both required some care to prevent an uncomfortable build-up of feathers and fur.

Sitting her up in your lap with several grades of brushes, you set about the lazy and drawn-out task of combing her mane. First, remove the larger kinks. Then, straighten all the fibers out as efficiently as possible. With a finer tooth comb, run through again to pull out any loose hairs that would otherwise fall out or shed onto the furniture. Finally, a deep and relaxing scalp massage to relieve tension and make Umbra easier to manipulate. You tied her hair into a somewhat manageable ponytail, though its sheer volume and length still made it splay out all across her back and shoulders in curly, silky blooms.

Swooning gently as if she were intoxicated, Umbra was then quickly dressed to reserve some modicum of dignity. You never created a wardrobe or precisely dictated what she was to wear, just threw on the first thing you saw when she was too lazy to do it herself. An old death metal sweater of yours would suit nicely, its logo so worn from age and the fabric so stretched out there was no way one could ever read it again. Not that the scrawling and sharp words were very clear in the first place. Umbra especially liked wearing your old shirts, as if they were tokens of her prideful marriage to show off around town. Your dark wife never wore jewelry, for the ring eternally hanging around her neck was more than enough. Carefully sliding it over her head, she sighed in delight when its weight sat upon her shoulders.

Sloppily dressed, sloppily brushed and grinning like an idiot, your wife was ready to go. Both hands picked her up by the chest and placed her on the floor for a motivational slap on the rump.

“There. Happy?” You asked whilst following her down the stairs. She didn’t need to say anything, only replying with a smug grin and a kiss on your leg.

“Verily.” She quipped, letting you two part ways for the day. Umbra stole whatever leftovers from Derpy and Dinky’s breakfast she could, you simply took the cold mug of coffee your pegasus wife prepared and set off for the few chores left to do. Dinky was already out of the house and off with friends for no doubt rambunctious and childish adventures, leaving a palpable and rare silence in the cottage. Umbra couldn’t help but feel cheated without her morning kiss and greeting, but ultimately that was the fate of a lazy pony who refused to wake up on time. Derpy came clopping into the kitchen with saddlebags about her back and a sun hat hiding much of her gorgeously gilded mane, she and Umbra exchanging looks of surprise.

“Good morning, sleepy-peepy!” Derpy greeted as she retrieved a dented canteen from the sink.

“And good morning to you as well.” Umbra returned with a weak smile, the mares exchanging a customary nuzzle.

“Where are you off to, Derpy? You’re positively dressed for war!” Umbra snickered, catching glimpses of metallic shoes, canvas satchels and sunglasses dangling off the motherly mare’s rotund sides.

“Don’t you remember? The Mares’ Club is taking a hike into the Everfree today. Twilight’s gonna show us some ancient ruins and we’re gonna have a picnic by the river.” She chirped with excitement, failing to impress the dark Queen.

Thankfully, the anti-social and frightening Sorceress never had to pull her civic weight in the household. Since Dinky’s birth and the subsequent maternity leave, Derpy never felt the need to return to work. She enlisted herself into full-time motherhood, something she found herself passionately suited for. By no means trapped however, and often at your own specific behest, Derpy still got out with her friends and into the public to participate. It pleased you to no end knowing that your wife made friends in the town, went on trips and always had something to occupy her mind.

Perhaps it was a learned fear of a traditional family arrangement you had seen first-hand go terribly wrong, perhaps it was years of college drilling into your mind that it was a bad thing, but you always fought for Derpy to have her hobbies and interests. Insanely focused as she was on raising her daughter, you never wanted to be accused of restraining her- nevermind finding yourself actually guilty of it. Today’s outing was another extension of that, a fun pastime to both keep her occupied and extend goodwill toward the town. It was shockingly helpful to have at least one “normal” wife that ponies could interact with and enjoy. Derpy did immeasurable work demystifying your household and assuring the town it was indeed a normal family that just so happened to contain the weirdest weirdos in all Equestria.

“Ah! Yes, yes, of course. It must’ve slipped my mind.” Umbra hummed casually as her eyes fell to the window letting in fresh and blinding sunlight.

“I will be sure to watch Dinky closely whilst you’re gone, Derpy. And do bring me some souvenirs.” The dutiful wife nodded sincerely to her herdmate, giving one last nuzzle in appreciation before making for the door.

“I’ll stop by the pharmacy and get some sleepy pills too. You guys were wiggling up a storm last night!” Derpy chirped from the doorframe.

“Mh, please do. Without natural chamomile around here, I can hardly make a tincture worth the time… and just between us? Perhaps another carton of pregnancy tests?” The pegasus knowingly winked with a warm smile, setting off for the day with a giddy trot. Umbra thoughtfully sipped leftover coffee and munched on her stale bagel with a studious eye fixed on the silly pony. Staring out the window, she watched closely as Derpy trot toward you and acquired her love-tax for the afternoon.

Groggily lumbering about with leather gloves and dirty shorts already on, she interrupted your preparation with a surprising kiss at eye-level. She so effortlessly snuck in on you with beating wings and an infectious smile, begging to be grabbed out of the air and shown what for. The ebony Queen could only watch with pangs of jealousy erupting in the bottom of her heart when you instantly embraced the goofy mare and stole her away as your own prized treasure, as if you intended to keep her for yourself and worship her for eternity. Even from this distance, through the intense heat of the afternoon sun at its zenith and the foggy pane of glass, Umbra could taste the undying and true affection.

Derpy’s was a natural love, one that was effortless and natural as breathing or blinking. Her flavor was that of genuine and unbreakable compassion, unrivaled and thoughtlessly easy to maintain. You didn’t have to think, you didn’t have to try and you never had to question why or what with her. She watched as you two naturally embraced and played with one another. Derpy was allowed to do things to you that would earn other ponies a swift smack in the mouth. She knocked your hat off, nipped at your pants, licked your neck- humiliating things if they weren’t done by your one and only.

But that was the issue.

No matter what you said, no matter how many times it was repeated in hushed whispers and gasps of emotion, regardless of the weighty ring hanging from her neck at that very moment, Umbra knew that your love for her was different.

Perhaps not outright inferior. Just different.

Different enough that she could taste the subtle hints of bitterness at the back of her throat. Devoted and passionate and accommodating as you were for her, you two were not soul mates. Fate had forced you together and welded your souls together into a shapely, if not rather rough configuration. It worked, it was beautifully slapdash and powerful. She knew you would do anything for her. There was nothing in the world that you would deny her.

But her innermost thoughts never let it slide that there was another. Pursing her lips and staring at the idyllic, picturesque scene of you and yours made giggling and kissing in the summer sun, Umbra resented herself not being the center. She had grown accustomed to being the second mare. She didn’t enjoy it, she simply tolerated it. The adult portions of her mind rationalized and accepted it long ago. Her instinctive mind never caught up however and always begged for her to be the epicenter of your world. Just as you were hers. She wanted you to be engrossed by her at all times, everyday and for all days that were to come. In times of weakness, she found herself dreaming of being your only wife. Your favorite and most prized wife that all who looked upon could tell was a spoiled mare.

Ebon lips depressed into a frown when the realization struck her and a flood of introspection washed over the squat mare. Why did she feel the need to take what was not hers? Why was she not satisfied with the lot she had earned? Was your love not enough? Did she really have to have every little bit of your attention undivided and unbroken? What kind of a herdmate would think these things when their stallion tried his very best to never show favor? She distracted herself such that the front door creaking open barely registered in the back of her mind, the summer heat demanding it stay slightly ajar at almost all times. A timid eye peered into the home from behind said door, silently scanning for any wandering shapes nearby.

“Hellooooooo? Anyone home?” A familiar voice snapped Umbra back to reality, sparking her to stand once again and address more reasonable issues. Shaking the delirium from her eyes and taking one last breath to steady herself, the dark unicorn opened her door fully to properly welcome her guest.

“Rose! So good to see you again!” Umbra hummed in delight, gesturing for the prim and handsome mare to make herself at home.

“Ms. Umbra, you’re looking well!” The pony lied, as Umbra looked more like a baggy, squishy, adorable blob of fur and chub. Regardless, she hung up the leather straps that had hitched her to the slight cart left outside and trot into the home to begin her business.

Brown fur warmed deeply by the sun and her pink mane tied modestly back into a tight bundle of hair, Rose carried herself in nothing short of a scholarly manner. Her glasses, fancy vest and tendency to speak quietly outlined her quite obviously in Umbra’s mind as one of Canterlot’s prestigious academics, one who would probably be more at home in one of the silent royal libraries than a little village like Ponyville. Polite and well mannered, Rose had always been a welcomed presence in your home since the very first years you had arrived in Equestria.

“I hope your travels here weren’t too laborious. Goodness knows this sunlight burdens us with dark fur.” Umbra conversed whilst retrieving more coffee.

“Oh me? I can’t complain. Just thankful it was pretty quiet this time around. Not many ponies travelling when it's so hot.” Rose set out her saddle bags and rustled through them for her tools, as this was no simple social visit for tea and biscuits. Pens, pencils, scrolls and maps and pads of paper were her constant company.

Years ago she had been assigned to interview you personally after your arrival, her university hoping that her approachable and gentle nature would come across as more inviting than a panel of stuffy and judgmental professors. She excelled in her friendliness and studying prowess, that very first year in Canterlot’s highest circle of learning turning out to be surprisingly eventful. Some of her findings were still being catalogued and debated over to this day, everything else that was deemed suitable to tell the public was published in several volumes of reports and journals.

Rose had quite a name for herself then and earned almost exclusive rights to study you and your family. Her distinctly uninvasive and gentle approach was welcomed by Umbra especially, thus when she reemerged and grew more receptive to the idea, the very same interview and visitation process was applied to her. After all, the wealth of knowledge stored within the millennia-old Queen potentially held the answers to questions historians had been tearing their hair out over for centuries. Rose specialized more in the journalistic pursuits of interviews and documentation, thus most of Umbra’s complex and detailed recollections of battles and ponies and figureheads were sent to the historical society for review and interpretation.

“Shall I make you something to eat? Perhaps some coffee?” Rose smiled contently and scrawled out another entry in her journal with a flick of her pinkish magic elegantly manipulating her pen.

“No thanks. Believe me, just being around you guys fills me up.” She said with a slight giggle and a wayward glance thrown down either side of the house’s interior.

“I saw Anon outside… no one else is home, right?” Rose asked cautiously.

“Not a soul. You’re free to relax.” Umbra said knowingly, beckoning for the young mare to follow her up the stairs and into her office. Rose beamed happily and let down her proverbial hair, a green flame burning from the tip of her horn slowly down to her giddy hooves.

“Whoo! Finally!” She chirped, grabbing her things and revealing her true form. The changeling shook the lingering bits of arcane dust from her eyes and pushed back the short crop of white mane hanging in her eyes, eagerly following the dark Queen into their preferred meeting place.

The revelation of Rose’s true nature was a secret known only to a very select few, Umbra being one of them. You didn’t even know it, though you most likely wouldn’t have appreciated the full depth of the situation if you did. Rose was keen to keep her changeling habits to herself, hiding among the elite of Canterlot and naturally blending in for years without issue. A shy, reserved and studious mare rarely drew more scrutiny than a curt and serious Professor asking for their latest essay, thus she could happily go about a quiet life without being pestered.

Naturally, trying to fool the Mistress of Deceit, Princess of Lies , the one and only Matron of Falsehoods, was doomed to fail. The very instant Umbra came within range of Rose, she knew her to be a changeling by the smell alone. Intimidated at first, the mare soon discovered that the sinister Queen really couldn’t care less. So long as Rose wasn’t attempting something against her family, then it was of no concern. So long as they maintained this professional relationship and Rose gave no reason for Umbra to destroy her, then the Queen was more than happy to talk to the insectoid pony without a second thought.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I wanted to talk about the battle of Ashbrooke hill again. One of your accounts from our last meeting conflicted with the Royal records.” Rose was already laying out the elder map from the battle on Umbra’s desk, her cozy office decorated with paintings and trinkets brought to her from museums and private collectors. Things she had lost millenia ago finally found their way back… or at least things she couldn’t make any use of. Armor and cloaks and flags, just mementos of a time before true happiness and peace.

“By all means. You know my love of correcting idiot scribes.” Rose giggled somewhat uneasily as she unfolded her maps and catalogues of the battle’s events, reproductions of priceless antiques locked away in ancient vaults. These paper copies were always so shocking to Umbra, as she never could've imagined something like a printing press back in her prime. A machine that could so delicately and accurately copy a cartographer’s work. The crisp lines of ink and dots of enemy formations flooded her mind with the memories of that fateful era, back when she was still in charge of something.

“So, we could confirm pretty clearly that you were the lieutenant of the seventeenth archer’s battalion. Records and testimony from the Princesses back you up there. But, there was a slight hiccup with the battle strategy you outlined last month.” Umbra cocked an eyebrow as Rose dragged a pointer across the map, drawing out a path from one point to the next.

“See, you said you were… here.” She chirped, pointing out a particularly dark spot nearby a river.

“And you said diamond dog forces were here.” She said once again, pointing out a point downstream that was clearly marked as an impassable swamp.

“But that doesn’t quite seem right, you know?” Umbra and Rose looked one another in the eye, a faltering look of puzzlement spreading across the changeling's face.

“You speak of the water, then?” Umbra huffed and stared into the map, drawing back on her ancient memories to recall the exact details of the day and moment.

“Right, right! The Princess’ logs from the time state that there was already a small body of water there. And we struggled to understand why you had your troops fire on a position that enemy couldn’t tunnel under?” Sipping coffee from her mug and pursing her lips, Umbra mulled over her answer for a brief moment.

“What doth their accounts accuse me of doing, then?” Rose held her piece, though an attempt to speak was made. Her hoof rose to answer that question, but her better judgement forced her mouth shut the moment she attempted to admit the less-than-savory account given by the royalty.

“Well… ehm… I’m not sure you’d be too pleased with what they said.” The Queen rolled her eyes and placed a small line in pencil across the mouth of the river. Such a simple little mark, but one that brought utter confusion to the historian mare sat just next to her.

“Before we arrived, the farmers of Ashbrooke built a log dam here. You see how the water flares outwards and grows into the lake?” Rose examined it closely, the very gradual widening of the flow backing Umbra up.

“I suppose they were storing it for some manner of irrigation system. What that did for us in the battlefield however, was give the diamond dogs dry earth simply begging to be tunneled through. The lowlands were such a death trap that we were forced to surrender it to them within the first few days of our conflict.” Rose quickly scratched every word down onto a pad, making sure to capture every last bit of material for comparison to more official records that were far less prone to lying than the black mare chugging coffee.

"My plan then was to destroy the dam and let the low-lands flood. Being the worthless simpletons they are, our enemies would never think to come out of their little burrows and escape the water. So, rather than us firing on a swamp- as they claim me to do, my troops fired on a garrison of their grenadiers whilst sappers under my command dismantled the dam." Umbra spoke smoothly and with perfect recollection of the event, as if it were yesterday. She all the while traced the actual positions and firing lines on the map with her pencil, carefully outlining the different units and their roles.

"Well... that would explain why they left it out then." Rose buzzed knowingly, recording and closely examining the map with bug-eyed fascination.

"I don't think the High Command would've given you permission to uhm... drown thousands of diamond dogs." She said with a meek smile, the idea alone so savage she could hardly put it into reality. The horror of a hundred scampering soldiers crawling through a suffocating tunnel, only for it to rapidly and violently gush with icy cold water sent shivers down her spine. Archeologists had spent decades trying to dig up remnants of helmets and spears and bones, but now it was painfully clear why so few corpses were left on the field.

"They refused to see the effectiveness of my strategy. They called it 'barbaric' and tried to remove me from command of my archers." Umbra scoffed at the very idea, cruelly drawing a cartoonish hound struggling to stay above her illustrated waves.

"But, as your history no doubt regales, we were victorious over the savage species and thusly secured out western frontier." Rose finished one last note before staring deeply into the map, losing herself in a worming thought. Her crystalline and serpent-like eye traced the lines and formations back to Umbra, the one so casually relaxing whilst she told her story of unparalleled terror. Most soldiers from that battle had been remembered as scared veterans, lost souls and shattered minds. Some of the most ferocious and brutal fighting in Equestria's history took place at Ashbrooke all those eons ago, blood and guts and metal and fire scaring that land so thoroughly that it still showed to this very day. Rose looked unto the untroubled mind that had seen it for herself, the one who had participated so gleefully in the insane slaughter of young stallions and hounds. Despite her academic restraint, she couldn't help but let a personal inquiry slide past her lips.

"Do you... regret what you did?" Umbra showed surprise at the question, swirling her mug to better distribute the copious additions of sugar and cream.

"Mh? How do you mean?" Rose adjusted her thick glasses, her careful and mechanical mind trying to piece together her question into a form that wouldn't offend her subject.

"I mean, at the battle. Do you ever feel bad for those soldiers?" Umbra considered the question with a silent pout and eyes glazing over her surroundings. Her ears pinned to her head as she chewed on the very notion, as if it were alien and completely new to her.

"Last week we discussed your treatment of the prisoners-"

"The ones who were skinned for treason or the ones hobbled for desertion?"

"No, no. The civilians." Rose said darkly, another tale of untold awfulness sprouting in her mind. She had read about terrible, horrific things in her time as a historian. But to hear it from the mouth of a participant, an active murderer from the scene, was an entirely different and bone chilling experience.

"Right, right. When you need a thousand graves dug, best they do it themselves!" Umbra snickered, catching the rather dower stare her interviewer was giving. Grinding her laughter to a halt and returning to a somewhat easy smile, the Queen once again fell into a state of thought. Gears and cogs ticked along in her mind, attempting to find and process any hint of guilt.

She remembered those faces, those bodies and those haunting noises. Clearly as day, she recalled the lives snuffed out by her own hooves. Their voices, their very last words and the slumping shape of their final positions all stuck with her. Some of their souls were still swirling about within her ethereal being, a hundred individuals forever stuck in that time and place constantly reminding her of the things she did. All of this mixing, toxic and bubbling horror combined in her mind and failed to bring a bitter taste to her mouth. The Queen sighed and sipped one last helping of coffee.

"Hm... the other evening I lay with my husband by the lakeside in the sunlight." She said, seemingly out of absolutely nowhere. Rose could only stare in confusion, waiting for the devious and tricksy Sorceress to get to the point and address her question.

"He took me so tightly to him... he held me so fast... that I accidently broke wind in his arms." She said with a shocking seriousness. Rose could do little more than stare in befuddled confusion, the waters of this strange mire rising higher and higher as Umbra’s refused to reveal a joke. The longer she held that deathly cold stare, the more apparent it became that this was a real, serious point somehow connected to their conversation of mass-slaughter.

“Once I took a cinnamon roll that my herd mate intended to eat for breakfast the morning after.” The silence after another statement so mundane and drab nearly dragged Rose across the floor like a struggling insect, her skittish mind fighting to put this puzzle together into any shape that somewhat resembled sense.

“Last week I went so far as mistakenly to pack one of my Husband’s cider bottles in my precious little Gem’s lunch pail instead of a juice box… all these things fill me with more regret than anything that happened on that day.” She said with a hushed whisper, like a secret not meant to be revealed. Rose listened instantly, her hole-pocked ears turned like satellite dishes.

“I can’t tell you how many times I try to make myself feel differently. How many times I watch children play, ponies walk by with groceries… birds fly above in healthy trees. It reminds me of the times I destroyed that beauty. Not only destroyed it, but buried and burned it. Stomped on it and sullied it until it was so hideous none would dare describe it.” Umbra’s eyes fell to her rough cartoon of a suffering diamond dog once more, the far-off hollers of painful death in war humming in the very periphery of her thoughts.

“Yet I feel nothing. How strange, you think? That I may press myself so far back from what is happening, what I’m doing… that I feel no connection to it? I think about it from time to time.” Rose could feel her expression soften in light of this revelation. In Umbra’s voice was a distinctly cold note of uncaring, a casual recollection of things long since done and buried. Not guilt, but some burden of remembrance that pressed her into introspection.

“Perhaps those Princesses are right about me. Mayhaps this new life is changing things that were once concrete and eternal in this old bag of dust. In those old days, t’was so easy to dismiss the dead and the weak.” Umbra dragged a hoof across the table thoughtfully, her little interviewer stepping closer to best hear her near-silent speech.

“Those diamond dogs stood between me and my promotion to first officer. So what difference to me doth it make if they drown or bleed on my spear? Those hamlet farmers I buried threatened to reveal our position to the enemy and compromise my campaign. So I had them all executed one by one and piled in the town square until they swore silence. My ambition stood above their tiny lives and their tiny goals and their meaningless deaths. And I stand by that to this very day.” Rose shuddered silently, her pen remaining still on her pad until the ink soaked through several pages.

“So please. If they ask. Tell them to dig here, here and here.” Umbra stated concisely, circling small patches of what was considered boggy and swampy wasteland around the map.

“Your archeologists ought to find whatever trash bubbled up from that deathtrap bivouac of caves around these areas downstream.” Rose watched as she did so, but any interest in that topic faded quickly as rising steam wafting into the air. Tracing her stare along the confidently posed and coffee-slurping mare, she tasted the insecurity oozing off her.

The love was potent in this house. Thick and nourishing and sweet like syrup, Rose could survive off one visit for several days afterwards with just the grouchy Queen present. The emotions in the air were unfiltered and raw, a rather passionate love for a mare married for several years. Derpy’s was at least somewhat tempered, a controlled love that had aged with time into an ultra-stable force. Her affection flowed like water in an unquestioning and unstoppable path straight to you and her daughter, some channels and tributaries even reserved for her brooding herdmate.

But Umbra’s tasted of the bitterness in doubt. The slightest pang at the back of the throat questioning whether or not this was eternal and true. Rose could drown herself in a gushing flood of passion if she needed to, you and your wife put out such waves of desire and need and devotion that half a hive could gorge themselves on you without concern. Much like a gullywasher running in a frothy and uncontrollable rush however, there was concern that one day it might deteriorate to a pitiful little puddle.

"Have you ever felt regret? At least before your marriage?" Rose asked with her curiosity cautiously piqued. Umbra drained her mug whilst she spoke, staring into the empty cup in vain hope of more invigorating drink.

"If I may answer your question with my own?" The changeling nodded to the Queen, allowing her rhetorical exercise.

"Hath thou ever felt regret for being a parasite?" She asked rather bluntly, visibly offending the little mare before her. Rose's snout scrunched into a tight frown, her eyes narrowing to a rather sour- if not intrigued stare.

"I never... thought of it that way?" She replied with palpable frustration in her sweet, almost musical tone. Her thick glasses had to be adjusted once more, the smoothed black plastic moving easily across her velvety and dark-colored skin.

"I have to do what I need to eat. I can't help it if I'm dependent on somepony else." She said defensively, tensing up at the thought of how many hives simply took their "nourishment" from the populace.

"And I've tried for a long time not to 'steal' my nutrition. All the love I've ever gotten, I've done my best to earn." Umbra grinned at the suddenly sharper and colder tone of the young mare's voice, a certain nerve touched in her as it had been in Umbra. She crooned to herself in thought, her hooves lazily kneading her mug around.

"Ma'am, I don't mean to offend you. But I don't think we're very comparable in that respect." Rose huffed accusingly, her eyebrow raised in waiting for some smart remark.

"Oh I would disagree." Umbra shot back quickly, though without a hint of agitation. She spoke in her old scholarly tone again, as if she were addressing a hall of students in no position to question her vast stores of knowledge and wisdom.

"Certainly the severity is out of the question. I doubt even the most mad would ever say you've hurt a pony in your life. Whereas I have... well. I've done my part." Umbra said with a toothy, sick grin.

"But it is a question of nature, isn't it?" Rose didn't respond immediately, her look communicating a definite need for a quick elaboration.

"You are what you are. There is no changing that. There's no reason to change that. As naturally as the divine rule above, so it is. Why can the same not be said about me?" Rose stared in a silent and prolonged attempt to understand the Queen, crimson eyes wandering across the room to her trinkets and ancient war memorials.

"Surely if one handles a dangerous spider, they expect to be bitten at some point. Ponies trifling with your kind understand in some respect that they'll be deceived, no matter their intentions. And those that stood in my way? I like to think they always understood the lengths I would go to." A cutting silence fell between them, Rose soaking in the poisonous words and justifications like a sponge drowning in vile run-off.

"I made no bones about my ways. All who came before me and knew my name- what excuse do they have? Why should I begin to apologize for their arrogance?" Umbra huffed with an increasingly offended voice.

"Ma'am, I think we all know what you were capable of. But that's no excuse."

"I'm not excusing a thing." Umbra answered curtly, her lips pursed into a serious expression of reflection.

"I'm simply explaining what many think is beyond explanation. It is my nature to destroy my opposition. Just as it is yours to feed on the emotions of ponies foolish enough to fall to your charms." Rose processed the intense and rather brutal ideals put forth by her subject, chewing them down to their component parts in an attempt to understand them better. Their mutual deep breaths were the only sounds rhythmically interrupting the crushing silence until Umbra moved from her cushioned seat and took hold of her mug in her magic.

"We place the blame on those who've done wrong. T'was not my will to destroy and to ruin and to-... it was just the natural order of things." Umbra hummed to herself and stared into a banner she once carried into battle so long ago, its stretched canvas now so faded and worn the red insignia could hardly be seen.

"If they hadn't challenged me, they would have continued living however they wished. It's that simple." She turned again to her interviewer, the college mare refusing to move in the wake of this sour exchange.

"It's that simple. I've told myself everyday for millennia."

"Do you still feel that way? That your 'nature' means anypony could trigger you?" Umbra shook her head and tossed locks of her barely-contained mane from her eyes.

"Things are different now. Those that fell before me long before came between my desire and myself. Now that I have all I could ever want? I only intend to keep them close." Her eyes drifted to the window nearby, the clear frame nearly blocked by half-finished paintings and other pieces draped over with linens.

"My husband... my daughter. They're all that matter to me, now. Any pony that threatens them will find my human quite the impossible foe to face anyway. I need not lift a hoof to defend him." Rose perked up for a split moment during the speech, her lips clearing into a weak grin.

"Your 'daughter?' Oh! You and Anonymous finally conceived?" She asked with a bubbling excitement, the Queen blushing beneath her fur and smiling warmly to herself.

"Damn it all. Pardon my misstep. I meant Dinky." Umbra corrected, staring outside as that very filly crept from the bushes toward her father. You were slaving away with a pruning saw to trim down a tree hanging over Derpy's little garden, the new branches obstructing too much sunlight and threatening her lovely squash crop. Staring up at the sun and mindlessly sawing away at the fresh wood, the filly had ample opportunity to surprise you and initiate a game.

"She is as good as my daughter, if I might insist." The dark unicorn hummed to herself, hardly noticing her changeling compatriot coming down from her perch and approaching.

"I've noticed the attachment. You've really taken a shine to her." Umbra continued to smile as you chased the much faster and more agile filly around the yard.

"She is my gem. She is greater than any throne I've ever held." Perhaps speaking about more than she intended, Umbra silenced herself quickly. Thoughts and ideas forced their way to her already churning mind, the only pony she trusted to answer these questions conveniently standing just next to her.

"Tell me, dear Rose. Would you... hate your mother if she were as wretched as I?" Her white-maned interviewer held her breath at the question, mulling over the answer she would have to craft in order not to offend the Sorceress.

"Well. I don't have a mother, really."

"You know what I mean, mare." Umbra snapped back without a hint of patience.

"Should you discover that your caretaker, the mare who loved you since your birth, was a pony like me... could you still bring yourself to be with her? To stand by her side and speak pridefully about her?" Rose cast her shining eyes to Umbra rather than the wholesome scene below, carefully reading her expression.

This vulnerability was especially rare in the Queen. She hardly ever showed a soft underbelly to anyone she spoke to, let alone Rose. Their relationship was somewhat more than friendly, as Umbra often found her to be the only pony educated enough to understand her deeper troubles. Given her only other audience was a man, a child and a goofy mare, there was indeed much for her to talk about when an open adult came around. Rose awas lways conflicted between brutal honesty and sparing the mare's feelings however, for she never wanted to be unwelcomed in the house and shunned by such a treasure trove of historical insight.

"If we assume that I was more associated with my Queen and I found out she was a murderer? I can't be sure. Honestly, I'd think it would be pretty shocking for any pony." Umbra shut her eyes tight in denial of that answer. In truth, she desperately wanted to be assured that such a thing could never ever happen to her. Despite all reason, all justification and justice in the world, her own (half)flesh and blood would never judge her so harshly.

"What about you? Could you do the same for your mother?”

“I cannot say. I don’t remember her.” She huffed through flaring nostrils. Both her deep and unnaturally colored eyes glazed over in the chugging and deep process of trying to remember that singular being. That face so familiar, so precious and dear to her heart from the very beginning of this long life. She knew the final expressions of so many, their last words and the lamentations they made in a moment of weakness. But not her own Mother, the one that had brought her into this world. Atop the body of a perfectly healthy, beautiful and full mare, there was just a blur. Nothing more than a smudge of fog where gorgeous perfection once sat. Umbra gasped when reality suddenly filled the vacuum left by her mind, a staring Rose waiting for an explanation for her heart-rending answer.

“You don’t remember your own Mother?”

“No, no. It was so long ago that we parted.” She said with a dry mouth struggling for comforting moisture.

“I left for a campaign on the eastern shores when she was a very old mare. The cataracts had taken her sight, bone spurs her legs… she had become so grey I hardly recognized her.” Rose stared on in forlorn fascination, as if she were watching a horrible train crash slowly repeat again and again to properly accentuate its horror. The dark unicorn sat in utter stillness as you tossed Dinky around outside, the range of emotion in the area shockingly drastic. Rose huffed deep breaths contemplatively, gritting her teeth to try and put this talk on some manner of direction again. It was unprofessional and rude to steer any talk to the most impactful and painful memories one held, thus she fought to find something to ease the suffocating weight in the room. Scanning across the tapestries hung about, her savior came when new piece caught her eye.

Blue armor, a broad sword rather than a spear and a far away stare of stoic confusion. This portrait was of you, but dressed in a highly distinctive manner. An untrained and ignorant mind might’ve confused it with the myriad of other paintings Umbra created to show your “glory” to the world, for it was so similar that it hardly roused immediate suspicion. To Rose’s educated and inspecting stare however, the distinctive armor style and striking colors communicated a very specific time, place and stallion.

“I haven’t seen this before.” She interjected with an oddly up-beat hum to slice through the overwhelming tension. Umbra thankfully yielded to the shift in tone, her gaze following the changeling quizzically as she approached her latest work.

“Hm? Oh. Yes.” She said dryly, removing herself from the window and regaining some semblance of respectable charm.

“I imagined my husband could use a new ‘form,’ so to say. So I clad him in an old set of finery… is it pleasing to you?” Umbra said with a tiny grin forming on her lips. She always loved to show off her work, a double-whammy of narcissistic satisfaction and pride fueling her when both your appearance and her skill were praised at once. Staring at the intricate and fine brush work put into the piece above the brim of her glasses, the young changeling closely examined the armor your sullen, dire and serious body was dressed in.

“It’s certainly different from your usual work. So little grey and brown, that must've been a real departure for you.” Umbra shrugged and bashfully tossed a cloud of dark mane from her eyes.

“Inspiration struck me when I spotted my Anonymous smoking a pipe last month. He felt so regal that I simply had to capture his glory.” She hummed in memory of that tiny moment between you both, though in the painting you held a royal seal between your fingers rather than any tobacco.

“You know, besides the original wood prints from his illuminated manuscript, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a depiction of Emperor Stoic Stone. I'm surprised you know about him.
Let alone know what his armor looked like.” Umbra hummed contently and stared into the depiction with an almost worshipping interest. You and the Emperor shared such a presence in her mind that combining you both was hardly a struggle for her creativity.

“He was long before the time of many. I doubt the Princess’ even remember their ‘Uncle Stone.’”

“Maybe if he hadn’t had half his empire destroyed, we’d have more records about him.”

“Until then? My memory will have to suffice. I suppose we could have an entire session about him alone.”

Umbra stared into your visage, a dark grin forming on her snout as the memories and sensations with the blue, crystal armor flooded her mind. She washed in the warmth and the familiarity of it, the far-off nostalgia of such a time and such a person like a warm drink in the winter. The deep blue of the protective shell was almost as reflective in oil paints as it was in real life, some legends stating that the old Emperor's armor let one see right into their own soul. The deep cerulean however, brought the Queen to an altogether different memory within short order. Perking up with a sudden hit of excitement, Umbra's magic gripped the bottom of a linen covering that obscured another painting.

"Oh! How could I have forgotten? I have something for you, dear Rose!" The changeling's attention shifted quickly to follow the dramatic reveal of her gift, a sudden rush of glee overwhelmed by a jarring shock to her senses.

"Mrs. Umbra? You didn't have to- OH MY GOODNESS?!" She shielded her eyes and averted her gaze from the scene, her prideful Queen grinning wide and marveling at her art.

"Viola! What doth thou think of that?! Quite magnificent, no?" Umbra beamed smugly as the image of a spread, eager and needy Luna shimmered in the afternoon sun. Wet paint still glistened as her marehood might in this excited state, further adding to the incredible detail and attention put into the depiction. The quivering and aghast student had to fight in order to look on her leader in such a way, for the demigod Princess had never been depicted in such a profane manner. All the respectful, harrowing and ancient art of the royalty followed the strict themes of reverence and praise, the contrast in this shameless painting even more shocking to an educated mind that had examined those olden pieces in agonizing detail.

"Oh please, Rose. Feel no shame in looking! If anypony were to be scorned for this, it would surely be I." Carefully bringing her attention to the "fine detail" of the painting, Rose found herself immediately lost in its composition. She wished to be sucked in, but she fought to stay composed and distant as she was with all material brought before her. But plump lips, winking openings and rotund cheeks forced her to stare with wide and hungry eyes.

Split down the middle to reveal just the slightest flash of pink paint, Luna's marehood beckoned to the viewer. The very center of the canvas held an almost life-sized rump for all to marvel at, the texture of fine fur and rippling muscle perfectly captured in the deep blues and stark black. Beads of shining sweat and oil ran down the curves of the Princess, accentuating her smooth feel and her perfect form. Expert uses of white and grey offset the colors and the tears of moisture from the dark background, making the Princess appear as if she had just stepped out of the steaming wonder of the royal baths. Sea-foam eyes looked down on the viewer, curled lips making the soul and body gravitate toward her. Just like the real thing, Rose was nearly struck dead by the lusty beauty of Night Ruler in her most vulnerable position.

"I... ehm..." Rose babbled stupidly, a slight hint of drool forming at the corner of her maw. Umbra snickered to herself and pressed her closer to the portrait. Almost close enough to kiss the flat lips of the painted princess.

"I recall you being quite the fan of the royalty. So, I present a reward worthy of your efforts."

"Wha- what am I supposed to do with this? I don't think the Canterlot authorities would appreciate it?" Rose asked with a distant and distracted tone, unable to rip her eyes from the needy folds of the alicorn.

"Hang it in thine bed chambers. Put it up in your office- burn it if you'd like. It is my gift to you." She chirped happily, turning the painting about on its easel to show off the distinct signature on the rim.

"For illuminating the truth, I illuminate the Princess! -Your Queen."

Rose couldn't hide the heat building on her face, a huffy and deep breath pushing some confidence back into her shuddering and needy body.

"I love it." She said simply, nuzzling Umbra in the shoulder cautiously to show her appreciation. The Queen crooned deeply to herself, licking her razor fangs in satisfaction.

"I always aim to please... and that does remind me. Have you found another buyer for my work?" Rose nodded with a dopey smile, searching across the room to quickly find another portrait.

"Actually, yes! Lord Igneous had his eyes on this one right here, but there was some concern about price in his letter." Rose selected a well-dried and somewhat dusty depiction of Dinky in olden princess garb, the washed-out colors and ultra-serious expression of the young filly commanding a forlorn and heavy respect.

"What worries does a Lord have about money? He bought the last 3 at auction without a second thought."

"Right. That's his problem. Last time he had to fight tooth and hoof to get it. Bids got up to forty-thousand bits." Umbra beamed with an arrogant and snide pride, adoring the image of drooling nobles battling one another for something as simple as a painting. She wasn't sure if it was the quality of her work that sold the at such a rate, or the infamy behind her name that propelled them to success. Ever since Rose had offered to bring her pieces to Canterlot and sell them for extra cash, Umbra had been regularly handing over her works to the highest bidders and the most stodgy ponies in all Equestria. Naturally, her favored and most treasured paintings stayed in the office or hung in her home. Family portraits, pictures of her husband and herdmate embraced and most pieces of Dinky were reserved for her own private collection. Those she saw fit to give away however, greatly enriched both she and Rose when they moved. Whether a direct sale, or a trade with the Canterlot Auction House, both mares benefitted immensely from the Queen's abundance of free time.

"He's hoping you won't charge as much for this one. Of course, he didn't pitch a price, but he wanted me to see if you could 'please be reasonable.'" Umbra cocked an eye brow and let a sly growl echo deep in her throat, a tiny portion of her ancient evil peeking its head out to connive and plot.

"Did he wish for you to tell me that?" Rose shrugged with a warm smile, her magic already seizing the painting off its wall.

"If he wants work worth forty-thousand? Then he should be able to pay, right?" Umbra and her shared a laugh, both fully aware of just how ravenous the Canterlot Elite were for meaningless trinkets and bragging rights. By now, the dark Sorceress was convinced she could wipe her rump with a canvas and Rose will still find a buyer willing to give their skin for it. Just so they could hang it over their fire place and boast to their friends and colleagues how they owned an original "Queen Umbra Work."

"Same rates as last time?" Rose asked with a peppy grin, watching as Umbra once again approached her window to watch her family delight in the summer heat.

"Give another five percent to yourself, Dear. Gods know you deserve it for doing business with those sub-pony, blue-blood scum." Umbra hummed, her scathing words communicated through a conversely sweet tone.

Any sugary enjoyment in her voice was quickly snuffed out however, for her eyes beheld a sight that stole the warmth from her blood. Pupils shrank to pin-pricks of violent crimson when she spotted you exchanging words with another mare below. A certain mare that had the unbelievable gall to approach her after what she had done.

"Hm... Rose?"

"Yes, Ma'am?" The changeling politely asked as she wrapped the latest work in a sheet for transport. She stepped out of the stiff and frustrated Queen's way, noticing a sudden stilted gait in her walk and pursed lips holding back an ocean of wretched words.

"I will be back in just a moment. Make yourself comfortable while I sort out this trash."

~~somewhat earlier~~

"Poppy! Poppy, throw me!" You shook your head in preparation and heaved your daughter from your powerful arms once again, tossing her haphazardly away like she were a log filled with stinging ants. After chasing her around, wrestling her to the ground and hollering like maniacs in the blistering heat of the sun, you could only wonder how on Earth she was still going with such insane speed.

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-" She squealed before disappearing into a cloud of yellowish smoke, the ear-splitting pop cracking through the air before returning once again a moment later. Turning quickly and holding out your arms, you just barely caught your flying girl as she careened out of another magical portal from your opposite side.

"-EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!"

"HRF! Gotcha!" You grunted, joints popping in your back and tired muscles straining when the fifty-pound equine slammed into your front. Dinky cackled like an absolute maniac all the while, her legs flailing all about and her horn shimmering with yet more energy.

"Again! Again!" She demanded as the exertion drew more and more sweat from you under the accursed sunlight.

"Aw jeez, okay! Here we go!" You groaned and heaved her to and fro a few times, helping her stocky little body build up inertia and speed.

"Higher! I wanna go higher! Toss me, Poppy!" She all but screamed right into your face in the blinding excitement seconds before she shot off into the air again in a tumbling parabola. At the very height of her arc, Dinky burst into magical aether again and vanished from reality. Expecting her the very next moment, you turned and received her caterwauling form when it came screaming out of nowhere in a shower of yellowish and powdery residue.

"WHOOOOO! Yeah, yeah, yeah!!!" She giggled uncontrollably and prepared for another throw, though her expectations were quickly dashed when you set her on the ground with sweat dripping from your brow.

"Urgh, that's enough of that. Run off and have some fun." You said sternly with a foot pushing on her lithe little butt, the filly grunting and holding fast to her grin of extreme excitement.

"Oh come on, Poppy! One more! Throw me straight up!" She begged with hooves pawing at your legs, the needy little lump of grey matching your warm smile with beaming eyes of hopeful youth.

"Huh-uh. Lemme get some work done, then we'll talk." You said firmly, patting your baby daughter on the shoulder to get her off you.

"Then hurry up and get done! Slowpoke!" She berated before taking off back into the brush, her skittering hooves propelling her at insane speeds you'd only ever seen in greyhounds before. Listening to the beat of her hooves on the soft dirt for a few moments as they slowly died out in the thick weave of vines and weeds, you relaxed somewhat and returned to your labor. Sawing at a branch and freeing it from the tree above, you deftly avoided its falling mass as it hit the ground and let a powerful beam of sunlight stream through. Undiluted by clouds or particularly messy skies, Equestria's intense warmth shone down and warmed your front surely as a raging campfire held inches away. For you, fully dressed in pants, shirt and boots, it was an almost unbearable heat that coupled with the latent spring-time moisture for a boggy and thick atmosphere. The light struck more of Derpy's motley little plot of dark loam and blooming tomato vines, illuminating both their beautifully healthy stems and yet another visitor to your business. Casting your eyes down to retrieve the still-living hunk of wood, a waiting shape spooked you into a slight recoil as it stood there in perfect silence.

"Huh- oh, hey!" You greeted warmly, smiling without showing your sharp and aggressive teeth.

"Been a dog's age since I seen you!" Zecora returned the hospitality with a smile and a wave, her hooves kindly side-stepping your burden so you could more easily move it aside.

"It's sadly true, my human friend. And might I say, for the summertime you're looking grand?" You snickered the zebra's unique manner of speaking, patting her head and receiving a most welcoming knicker of satisfaction.

"Thanks, stripes. Not lookin' so bad yourself... far as I can tell."

"River water, seeds, leaves of the earth and spiritual knowledge are the best diet. You ought to try it."

"Without meat, I'd go insane. And I can't take care of all these four-legged ding-a-lings... ehm... without a brain... how was that?" Zecora rolled her eyes, unable to banish the amused look from her face.

"Practice for twenty years and you won’t be bad at all. But... I'm sad to say that this is not a social call."

"Oh?" You asked, propping yourself up on your pruning saw and wisely stepping into the bits of shade you had yet to cut off.

"If you don't mind, I need to speak to you about your wife and child. They've come around my home making trouble and running wild." You instantly regretted scoffing at her complaint, as that was the first thing you did to drain positivity from her expression.

"You mean like trespassing? I thought you lived in like... a shack? Is there a zoning law for shacks in the woods?" Zecora gave a frustrated huff at your half-dismissive response.

"A 'shack' it is not! It is a hut, built on an approved lot!"

"Okay, okay. My bad." You said fiendishly to her somewhat childish pout.

"I'll talk to Umbra and the little gremlin. I'm sure they didn't mean anything by it, but if you don't want them coming around I can work with that." You said, recalling the many ponies that had come to you in times before about this exact issue. Thankfully, no business turned your dark wife away, but some particularly stubborn residents of the town still refused to allow the Queen anywhere near their home. To you it was all the same, as those that wouldn't accept your wife after all this time weren't really the kind of ponies you wanted to associate with anyway.

"Were they too close to your... 'hut' or something? I mean, where exactly do you live?"

"She is not welcomed in my wood. Wherever she sets hoof there can be no good. You wouldn't understand, Anonymous. But show sympathy, you should." Again the phrase "you wouldn't understand," hit you with the same irritating strike it always had. Ever since you arrived in this insane dimension of horses and magic and princesses, ponies had qualified whatever nonsense they were spewing at the time with that phrase. Especially when Umbra was concerned, you were treated to "you wouldn't understand" anytime someone spoke about her past misdeeds and ways.

"I respect that not everyone's the biggest fan of my wife. But you know she's not like that anymore, right?" The zebra only cocked an eyebrow in response, her lips now flattened into a deadpan frown.

"Maybe you could talk to her and we can resolve this whole thing? She's inside right now, I bet you she's got a sec-"

"No.” Zecora answered sharply, her voice deadly serious as her sour expression.

“You are a good stallion, Anon. But any chance of forgiveness, Umbra is far beyond.” Stepping closer, wearing a dower expression almost like mourning, Zecora put a hoof to your thigh. A touch that caused the slightest twitch in you, but one that tried its very best to be reassuring in some sense.

“She is not worthy of my sight. But I always welcome you, if you’re in need of insight.”

“I don’t think I understand.” You said, hands raised to try and avoid any lingering accusations of being perhaps “too friendly” with the otherwise unknown mare.

“An offer of assistance. If you ever find yourself succumbing to her whims and persistence. Please, don’t hesitate to-”

“GET YOUR DIRTY HOOF OFF OF MY PRECIOUS ANONYMOUS.” Both you and Zecora were broken from the moment and forced to look toward your backdoor. Standing there, threatening as a pony in a sweater could be, your dark wife wielded a spatula in her magic like it were some great and ancient saber. You saw it as adorably threatening, like a puppy showing its tiny teeth and snarling at a much larger predator. Zecora responded with an instant and twitchy pull away from you, watching your wife closely as she approached in a huff and swatted at her rump with the plastic flipper.

“Back, BACK! Naughty zebra!” She hollered and yipped, pressing herself in front of you like some manner of squishy and ebony wall.

“Don’t you dare dirty my stallion with your filth! Back I say! Back!” Zecora was less hurt by the slight spanks against her side and more offended by the obnoxious nature of your wife’s intrusion. Her eyes narrowed and her lips curled into a disgusted scowl, all the while both ears pinning to her skull to avoid the high-pitched snaps of a threatened mare.

Standing there in shock and confusion, it was really quite difficult to filter information through your racing mind. Zecora, one you hadn't seen in years, was now being attacked and banished by your wife as if they had just spat in one and other's eyes the day prior. You had never seen these two together- let alone realized they spoke- yet here they were acting like wild animals. High-pitched hollering and shouting was traded between the parties, quickly wearing down your already thin and exhausted patience.

"Think I would not notice your lingering stench about my own home?! You are not as clever as you think yourself, zebra!"

"Hostile, just as one should suspect! Not even an apology for me to reject!"

"I shan't ever apologize to the likes of you! Assaulting good mares and their fillies like a pervert in the night! I ought to have my husband pull your legs off!"

"Just when I arrive to sew the seeds of peace, you trample my efforts again, beast!"

"Oh I'll show you beast, striped one! I'll-" Both of them were made silent by the monstrous grip ceasing their rear legs, a yanking force subjecting them to a dizzying pull up and off the ground. Standing with your arms outstretched and held high above your head, the mares were made into your captive audiences with braces of powerful fingers strapped about their hooves. In one swift, fluid and practiced motion you hoisted them up and kindly reminded them of just how freakishly strong you were compared to their tiny equine forms. Staring at you with stupefied and wide eyes, both pony and zebra wisely held their piece and struggled only somewhat for a proper purchase.

"Both of you. Shut up." You huffed, jiggling them like naughty babies in need of having any and all sense shaken back to their heads.

"You. Start making sense." Umbra was allowed to speak first. Her privlege as your wife might not have saved her from this rather humiliating restraint, but it certainly granted her more rights than the reclusive mare in your other hand.

"Anonymous! Put me down! Put me down this instant, fool!" She blubbered, swatting at you ineffectually with her hooves and whining like a babe.

"Ten seconds." You qualified, shaking her again to drive your point home. Pouting and drowning in her own mane, the unicorn snarled through clenched teeth at her striped adversary.

"This vagabond attacked me in the forest with harmful wards and threw corrosive powders in my face, Anonymous! Without any provocation! And now she's come to do it all again, simply because I enslaved her tribe millennia ago and she still won't get over it!" Staring at your seething and grunting wife for a moment or so, taking in her words and swirling them in your mind, you chose to believe her. Umbra would certainly fluff the truth if it served her purposes, but you trusted her to never lie. Given the circumstances and your lack of reason to really doubt someone wanting to harm your wife, you quickly let her down and brushed stray strands of hair from her face.

"Ugh, thank you!" She snapped, letting you both return your gaze to Zecora.

"You are hurting my hoof." She said coldly, hanging naturally and waiting for you to speak without a care.

"What's this about throwing stuff on my wife?" You asked darkly, squeezing tighter around her ankle.

"I told you before. She and her kind encroached on my land. If it weren't for your daughter, I would've done more." That was certainly the wrong thing to say. Holding back the bubbling indignance of having your wife so callously attacked behind your back, you huffed with flaring nostrils and lifted the zebra higher.

"I don't know who you think you are, but that's my wife. You. Do not. Touch her." Umbra beamed at your imposing dominance, the harsh and cold tone of your voice so rarely seen in these peaceful days. Ragged and scratchy words were like music to her ears and scrawled a devilishly smug look across her.

"And she does not come near. That much I must make clear." Neither of you were ready to back down. And though Zecora hung upside down in the claws of a predator she had clearly upset, her stoic expression still expressed a certain control. She was metered and calculating, pushing her own agenda and refusing anything less than compliance. It was immediately clear that you weren't going to get anything out of this little equine, for both of you were equally serious about the circumstances.

"She won't." You said simply, letting her down to her hooves in a rough drop that nearly toppled her over.

"Get outta' here and don't come back. Now."

"I will still-"

"Umbra won't be back either." You interjected, shooting the dark Sorceress a sour twitch.

"I'll make sure. But if I hear you so much as breathed on her? I'm gonna break your legs." Zecora and you exchanged intense glares of disapproval, the unmoving object crashing against the unstoppable force. Her eyes narrowed at you accusingly, scorning you for sticking by the side of a wretched slaver and tormentor. You returned it with wide and predatory eyes of defensive posture, assuring that you would protect what was yours at any cost. Zecora could not help but mentally note that similar expression in young Dinky. This was surely where her standoffishness came from.

"Enjoy your dangerous life and halfbreed wife, Anonymous." Zecora huffed indignantly and made her leave, turning her back to your unwavering stoniness and trotting off from where she came. You watched her go all the while, a single bead of strenuous sweat running down your brow. You hated threatening ponies so very much. They were already a rather fearful and herd-minded bunch. Your influence could easily send them into a tizzy, thus you had to be exceptionally careful with your emotions around them. This moment was a rare time when your ability to snarl and bite came in handy, as you had seen off this foe and were left to deal with the other threat standing right by your side.

Standing there, shivering with rage and gritting her teeth hard enough to crack her jaw, Umbra's eyes flared. She stared at the leaving zebra with just the tiniest string holding her back. Palpable anger, so thick and sweet it could stop the heart, poured out of her readily as honey from a bee-hive. In the split second you turned to speak with and scold her, the weak shimmer of her magic had already taken your pruning saw like a spear and hoisted it off the ground.

"Rrrrgh... RRRRG!" She growled childishly, the light red of her energy darkening further and further until it was almost its full and old crimson. Gentle sparks and crackles rung out from the inhibitor strapped about her horn, the worn and iron-colored band jittering when subjected to such a monstrous wave of magicka. You watched as she helplessly jabbed at the air with the pointed end of your tool, her stance becoming more defensive and battle-like as the agonizing seconds ground forth.

"Umbra..." You interrupted, grabbing the saw from her and taking it swiftly. Your voice broke her trance somewhat, letting her cast a furious gaze toward you as purple tendrils crept from the corner of her eyes.

You hadn't seen her this dangerously ferocious in years. This wild, drooling, snarling and unstable anger that prompted fear in everyone around her. Especially those that trusted her. Umbra wasn't thinking straight, she wasn't capable of making sound decisions or rational thoughts. You could see it in her, that single word bouncing off the inside of her skull again and again like a bullet in a long hallway. No normal creature would approach her like this, for they would surely invite a swift chomp to their neck and a fruitless effort in calming her. You, on the other hand, were forced to approach. Unreasonable and aggravated as she was, it would be of no use talking to your mare now. Getting anything short of a pair of fangs sunk into your flesh was a far-off fantasy.

So, pushing all your burning questions and frustrations down, you knelt by your wife's side and ever so gently ran your fingers across her coat. As badly as you desired answers for what she had done and context for why on Earth Zecora would be so aggressive, it would have to wait. You sighed and felt her calm slightly at your touch.

"Umbra. Babygirl? Come down... nice and easy." You said, closing the distance cautiously as not to spook her. Umbra at least put her teeth back in her mouth, holding herself in a shuddering and outraged position.

"She... that filthy mongrol-disgusting-foolish-"

"It's okay. You're alright." You huffed, carefully running your fingers up her shoulders and grabbing them sweetly. The Queen whined and scraped at the ground with her hoof, defiantly trying in vain to chase after this unbelievable monster that had disrespected her.

"Anonymous! You let her go! She insults me and you let her go?!" Umbra gnashed her teeth when you kissed her cheek, her instincts shouting for her to rip your face off but her better senses restraining her. Her eyes shut tight to banish the sight of Zecora's shape disappearing over the horizon, but that word waited for her in the back of her mind.

Halfbreed.

"Babygirl, come back. Come back down." You repeated into her neck, trying your very best to calmly retrieve her. Umbra fought against your wishes at first, kicking and wiggling as arms wrapped about her barrel and brought you two close.

"We'll talk about it later. Okay? You have to calm down, Umbra. You have to." She shook her head and stomped her hoof in protest, but it was too late. Umbra was forced to swallow her pride and take it on the chin, the full force of this humiliating blow burning to her very core. She tasted bitterness on her tongue, a shocking and dark flavor of failure to defend her honor. Your touch and reassuring words helped to cool it somewhat, but her racing mind couldn't let it be.

"C'mon. Let's go inside and get you something to drink. Okay, Babygirl?" You coaxed her back toward the house, a most worrisome and helpful figure waiting in the doorway. Glasses askew and her hair hanging down her neck, Rose watched as you walked the unicorn back to the house and pressed her inside like a dog. She held her head low in humility, letting a wash of ebony mane cover her shameful gaze.

"That's it. There we go. C'mon in and get settled. I'll take care of you." Ushering the mare inside, Umbra accepted a pat on the shoulder from the academic before crashing on the nearest couch. Just like she always did in fits of rage in the past, the sorceress forced herself to relax. Regaining her composure through crushing a pillow to her chest and breathing deeply, she bit her tongue and refused to be bothered further.

"There... all better. I'll be back in a little bit, alright?"

"Rrhn..." She replied bitterly, pressing her face into the couch like a sassy child refusing to hear you.

"We're gonna talk about this later. Right now, just relax. Alright?" She refused again to hear you, turning away and clawing at the cushion below with aggravated and scraping hooves. Sighing at her barely-restrained defiance, you turned your back on her. Putting trust into the grouchy and devious mare once again, you hailed the watching and shifting Rose toward you. Umbra may not have been in any state to speak truthfully about what was going on, Rose would never withhold information from you. At least not for long.

You silently led her out the back door, latching it closed to assure Umbra wouldn't be further incensed.

"That was... intense." Rose quipped, her little joke failing to make you smile even slightly.

"I don't have a clue what all that was about. Please tell me you do?" You huffed in frustration, watching the invisible gears tick in the little mare's mind. The chocolate-colored pony chewed her lip thinking through the long, long catalogue of things Umbra had done and the enemies she had made. Over such a long period and with so many names to remember, some tended to blend together into a warped and melding mess.

"Well... ehm... what's the best way to put this?" She mulled to herself, a polite and reserved tone taken in the face of your skewering gaze.

"The fastest way." You commanded, crossing your arms and peering through the nearest window to assure that your wife remained in place.

"She might have enslaved that zebra's tribe at one point or another. And maybe brutalized them for a hundred years until they revolted and she scattered them across Equestria to wander aimlessly forever." Both eyes closing in that moment of realization, you took her words and held them close. You sighed deeply and forced your initial, thoughtless response back down. Words wanted to leap forward from your mouth and let your grievances be known, but now was neither the time nor the place. Rose watched you grind through the motions in your mind, clenching fingers kneading at your sweating muscles in angsty rhythms.

"Crap... sometimes I forget I'm married to a maniac." You grumbled, tired eyes meeting the caring gaze of the little mare before you. She stepped forward and pat your leg, an assuring- if not somewhat demeaning- gesture you couldn't help but appreciate.

"You don't need anything, do you? We could take the issue to Twilight and-"

"No, no. I don't want that spaz getting any more involved with us." You declined with a tone you wish hadn't betrayed how fed-up you were with that particularly neurotic alicorn.

"I'm gonna make sure this doesn't happen again." Rose didn't appear all too convinced, watching you with cautious and scanning eyes trying to pick apart your posture and stance.

"I didn't think name-calling could set her off that bad." You mentioned off-handedly whilst staring into the window.

"I mean, jeez. You'd think a mare that gets called a monster and an evil witch every other day wouldn't be bothered by that kind of thing?" Rose shrugged, adjusting her glasses.

"She's always been a bit touchy about being called 'halfbreed.' Used to be that anypony calling her that would have their hooves split." Cringing at the thought, you banished the horrific and bloody image from your mind quickly as possible.

"Any idea why? She's never talked about this."

"No pony that's alive knows. Except maybe the Princesses."

"Should I even ask?"

"If she's not bringing it up? Maybe not."

"You think I wouldn't like the answer or something?"

"No. Nothing like that." She huffed, shifting on her hooves uneasily.

"Just that... well. Sometimes things are- in so many words- better when no pony knows about it." You cocked an eyebrow at such a cryptically vague sentiment, sensible as it may have been. There were plenty of things Umbra either didn't bring up, or didn't want to talk about in her past. A horse like her with such a sordid history would surely resist souring your opinion of her. You would love her no matter what, but you knew well enough that some of the things she had done would change your view. Umbra was a good mare now and only now. She was your wife, your nasty and bratty little Queen that treasured you and your daughter more than anything else in all the world. She was family, more than that even. She was one of the few things in this world you could call your own.

And so, you couldn't help but agree with the unicorn standing before you.

"Right... makes sense to me." You grunted in defeat, pushing the door open and welcoming Rose back into the house.

"Sorry to interrupt. C'mon in, lemme get you mares something to eat." She accepted your invitation, trotting with ears perked and smile somewhat restored.

"Oh that's alright. I'm full already."