Dreamwalker's Tale: An Anthology

I was sweating buckets, but that satisfied smile on my face was rather persistent. A merciless summer sun was beating down on all three of us, but neither minded much. We cleared tree after tree, working slowly, but steadily. On any other day and any other activity, that fact would have alarmed me. Applejack was grounded, rational, she knew what she needed to do and was perfectly capable of restraining herself. Rainbow was, well, a little bit more aloof, but most importantly: She was an athlete. A successful one, at that. She knew the limitations of her body and although she constantly tried to widen those, she — more than any of us — knew the whiplash of actually risking an injury. The problem just arose once one put both of them together. Their competitiveness would surpass any rhyme or reason. In an effort to be ‘the best’, no matter what exactly was concerned, they would throw caution to the wind.

Maybe it helped that I was present today. Every once in a while, I audibly cleared my throat whenever they shot challenging glances at each other, or when one of them seemed to speed up her work noticeably. Then again, maybe it really was just the sun bearing down on us.

It mattered little. It still felt fulfilling. Both the possibility that I helped in that way, and the work itself. Honest, straightforward physical labor. We had made it past noon and I could already feel it in my very bones: I would sleep like a log tonight.

I paused for a moment. “Water break,” I announced and the other two stopped as well. We walked over to the cart. The bucket standing behind it, more precisely. And dipped our muzzles in one after the other, caring little for decorum. Despite standing around in the sun for hours, it still felt fresh, refreshing. “Ahhh, that hit the spot,” Rainbow said. I could only agree with a nod. And just like that, we went back to work. The relative silence was not uncomfortable, but we talked occasionally. Whenever we did, we inevitably slowed down a little.

I brushed my hoof across my brow, feeling how my coat soaked up the thin sheet of sweat, feeling how it coalesced into droplets, and finally flung them to the ground. “Ew,” I mumbled with a quiet chuckle.

“It’s only sweat, sugar, nothing disgustin' about honest sweat,” Applejack remarked from another tree two rows over.

“Well, you would know, I suppose,” I grinned and winked at her.

Applejack laughed, taking the little jab in stride. “I do. No honest worker here ‘cept me, commandin' two lazy-flanks.”

“Hey!” Rainbow immediately protested. “What did I do?!”

“Except bein' a pain in my flank all night with your constant tossin' and turnin'?” Applejack shot back.

“I really don’t need to know what you two get up to in the dead of night,” I interrupted their loving little spat.

“Well at least it won’t be as bucked up as yours,” Rainbow shot straight back.

I stopped.

I stopped grinning. Smiling, even. I might even have stopped breathing for a moment, I could not tell. Needling each other was nothing new. A little bit of sass, just regular old banter. But there had been something in her voice. Some underlying current. A tone I had never heard before.

Accusation.

And her smile felt all kinds of wrong. It did not reach her eyes.

I stood there for a good couple of seconds and was… shocked? Speechless. I did not know how to react to that. It slowly, agonizingly slowly dawned on me, that she was being serious. “W-What do you mean?” I heard myself cobbling together.

For some reason, it was Applejack who sighed. “Well great, Rainbow. Couldn’t have waited for the day's end? Until the work’s done?” she chided her partner. So she was in on this? Whatever ‘this’ even was? I turned my attention to her and found her eyes strangely bereft of the usual warmth and friendliness. “We don’t mean anythin' by it,” she started half-heartedly. So it was a ‘we’ now? “It’s just that… well… we’ve seen the looks you shoot at Twilight.”

“I… well…” I stopped talking. I closed my jaws and tried to think, but every straight thought seemed like such a chore, such an impossible task. “We… we’re just flirting,” I tried to defend myself in what probably did not exactly amount to a viable tactic.

“Yeah, that’s… kind of the point,” Rainbow threw in from the sidelines.

“You’re not exactly subtle about it,” Applejack reinforced with a nod. “And it’s just… you’re gonna hurt Twi. Eventually.”

“No, I won’t!” I immediately protested. But despite the energy and conviction carrying that statement, a part of me demanded amendment. “I mean… maybe I will. Probably. You can’t not hurt somepony you spend so much time with, it’s an inevitability. You can’t tell me you haven’t hurt Rainbow at some point, right? Or Fluttershy?” There was a growing sense of desperation that I noticed with a strange feeling of disconnect. Like I saw someone else fighting a battle they could not hope to win.

Applejack shook her head. “Sure I have. But this is different.”

I saw the opening. I saw in her eyes that she had made it available willingly. It was a trap. But I felt desperate and used it anyway. “Why?” I asked.

And the trap snapped shut. “Well, because they’re the bucking princesses, genius!” Rainbow spat. It was not quite a yell yet. But her voice carried a certain edge with it.

Applejack nodded. “You’re gonna break Princess Celestia's heart. And you’re gonna break Twi's heart as well.”

Dread. Dread seemed the right word for what was constricting my throat. The sun still glared at us. At me. But it had started to feel rather uncomfortably warm a long time ago. I was still sweating, but not because of the physical labor. We had stopped doing any work at all. “What… what do you want me to do…?” I finally dared to ask, my throat dry and my head spinning.

“Well, isn’t that obvious?” Applejack replied with a sigh. She walked over to me and despite my meek attempts to recede a couple of steps, she put a hoof on my shoulder. A cold touch. And in a condescending voice, she broke my heart a little further. “We want you to stop. Listen, you seem to be a… a decent pony,” she lied through gritted teeth, “and we did our best to be as toleratin' as possible. But we can’t have you runnin' around making googly eyes at all the mares. Either you come clean about cheatin', or we will do it for you. And since we’re on that note anyway, maybe consider stoppin' with the unnatural nonsense as well?”

“N-none-…?” I tried. I really did. But my voice broke off, and my eyes could not see, and I felt hot tears stream down my face and I only saw cold steel in green eyes. It was horrifying.

Again, she sighed. The same way an exasperated mother would sigh after having to explain the same thing over and over to her rather dense foal. “One stallion belongs to one mare. It’s not that hard to understand, is it? What you’re aiming for is wrong. It’s just… you know… unnatural.”

For some reason, that hurt even more. And for the first time in ages, I managed to rip my gaze free from Applejack’s eyes. I almost frantically searched for Rainbow, and found him standing a couple of trees away, lazily leaning against the tree’s bark and quietly eating an apple. “What?” he just asked. In a tone that was begging for me to give a wrong answer. Which… might very well have been ‘any’ answer.

My gaze returned to Applejack. She was waiting. And try as I might, I could not answer. My smothered voice would not allow me. My shallow breathing would not allow me. My head felt lighter and lighter, my heart rapidly, erratically beating in my chest. It hurt. It just hurt so much.

“This is not Applejack,” a sharp voice cut through everything. “And neither is this Rainbow Dash!”

I wanted to look for its source. But Applejack would not allow me. Her eyes kept me transfixed. Kept me staring at her. Even as the ground shook. Even as fissures ripped the orchard apart. Parts of the land were rising, others falling. I saw something blue out of the corner of my eyes.

“You know it to be true,” Applejack almost hissed. Her demeanor had changed once more. No consolation was to be found anymore, no matter how condescending, no matter how hurtful. There was just anger remaining, and traces of a growing hatred.

The pieces of land around me rose up. The small chunk of land I was standing on sank down, deeper and deeper into the abyss. Her voice haunted me, even in this growing, drowning dark. “Unnatur-“

For just a moment, I allowed myself to stop. Right before a window, so that the afternoon sun could shine brightly on me. Warmth seeped into my very being and my smile felt a little more reinforced than it already had been. There was a certain heaviness in my heart that I could not explain completely, but I opted to ignore it. I was a worrywart after all, random feelings of insecurity and discomfort were pretty standard for me. But I would not let that deter me.

A couple seconds more and I stretched my legs, arched my back like a cat and noticed with the everlasting smile on my face that satisfying pop of something in or along my neck. “Oof, that’s good,” I murmured and finally continued down the hallway. I passed by massive oil paintings and busts on pedestals, banners and tapestries. And doors. Most of them were unguarded, because most of the rooms behind them were less significant.

The door at the end of the hallway, though. That one was different. “Gentlecolts,” I greeted the two day guards with a smile. Their faces did not change expression as one of them unlocked the door and opened it. The gap was just enough to let me inside, and it closed right after me.

Strange. I could not remember these two. I obviously did not know every single guard, day or night, by face and-or name. But over time, I had gotten to know at least some of them.

I shrugged and put it behind me. There were plenty of possible explanations and this certainly was not important enough to fret over it.

Celestia was, though.

The moment I laid eyes on her, my mood soured. Something was up. I looked over my shoulder, confirmed that the door had been closed and I quickly reminded myself that it had been done silently. So far, nothing betrayed my presence, but… usually, she would have noticed anyway. She somehow always knew. Trying to surprise her had actually become a fun little game that I did not mind constantly losing. Maybe she had put a magical tracker on me or something.

What made me hesitate to announce myself was her state of being. She sat at her desk as usual, sure, but she was slumped over, the chair turned to the side and… she was crying. She held a letter in her hoof, from what I could tell, and was crying. Softly, silently weeping.

That heaviness I had felt and disregarded before bloomed into dread once more. What was going on? Whatever it was, it hurt her. And I felt righteous anger about that. Nopony was supposed to hurt her. I was supposed to at least make an effort to keep her safe. Was I not?

I found myself sneaking forward. Silently stepping my hooves on marble floor tiles, slowly creeping closer and closer. Until I was close enough to the table to stretch my neck. But I could not reach quite high enough to properly see what she was reading. And reading it, she was. Over and over and over, it seemed. Every couple of minutes, she turned the single page and read it again.

Why did she torture herself?

That’s Luna’s métier…

And that thought, I hated even more. No, it was not.

Once again, Celestia turned the page over, to start reading anew. This time, standing on my hindlegs, propping myself up against the massive, high table and stretching my neck to its fullest until everything ached within seconds — and ignoring that ache — I could at least see parts of what she was so focused on.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

The letter started with ‘dear sister of mine’. My mind was set ablaze. Theories swirled around, thoughts gave chase to each other. Another Nightmare Moon-incident? As hilariously stupid as that was, I still found myself checking the window, just to be sure. Still afternoon, with a nice, warm afternoon sun. For a fraction of a second, I considered if those tears might be tears of joy. They did not have to be associated with terrible news. But I quickly confirmed my initial reading of the room’s aura by merely looking at her facial expression. Even that little of what I could see from where I was confirmed without a doubt that she was distraught, if not heartbroken.

I refocused my attention on that stupid letter I quickly grew resentful of. How dare it upset, no, hurt my Sunny? But once again, that anger quickly turned to worry and concern, as I managed to glimpse another shred of the text. My name was there. Multiple times.

I did not know why. And no longer could I bear seeing her like this. “Love?” I asked, barely audible. Yet in a silent room, it was more than enough. She tensed up immediately, her hoof wobbled a little and she quickly stashed the letter in a drawer of her desk. One of those that could only be opened by her.

She slipped her mask on without effort. Despite me being the only other pony in the room, and that… that was all kinds of wrong. She never needed it with me. We had managed to work past that stage quickly. Why now? Why, of all times, did she see a need for it now? “How was your evening?” she asked in that serene voice I suddenly hated so much.

Because now, I was talking to Princess Celestia. Celestia, the All-Knowing. Celestia the Wise. Celestia the Immaculate. It hurt.

I needed to get to the bottom of this. I needed to know what Luna had written. But that letter was basically lost to me and the only other potential source of information was currently trying to hide from me. Maybe I could get her to open up. I still thought that I was rather decent at reading her by now. Her tone of voice had left little doubt: She did not want to waste more time than strictly necessary. Aiming true from the get-go.

How was my evening?

I barely remembered anything, but the more I dug into it, the clearer it became. A rare afternoon spent with Luna. She had somehow roped me into being her assistant in some pranks. I usually played either the bait, or the distraction. She had put on her illusion later on, so that we could have a nice, lovely dinner outside the castle walls. Fancy restaurant, good food, good wine. Maybe a bottle too much, but neither of us was really drunk. We were just a little bit more chipper than usual. We had returned to the castle, went straight to her bedroom. I could not remember us fooling around, since we had stuffed ourselves a little bit too much at dinner and after that afternoon, we were getting tired.

“It was—“ I started and suddenly remembered a detail. I remembered lying on her bed, feeling drowsy, when all of a sudden, all the candles in her room burst to life, illuminating her room in the most beautiful glow. The ceiling was a painting of a section of the night sky. The color used for the moon and stars had been specifically chosen to interact with any light source. It was a magnificent dance of light. Of color, too. I remembered noticing the emptiness beside me, and looking for Luna. I remembered finding her standing at the edge of the bed, with a nervous smile on her face.

… I remembered her proposing to me.

“—fine,” I belatedly finished my answer. I could not have described what I heard in my own voice on that last word. Neither could I tell what I felt at that moment. The puzzle pieces fell into place.

She had promised me!, I lashed out in the privacy of my head, throwing myself against the cage’s bars. A cage called ‘helplessness’. Yes, indeed, she had promised. That she would wait and keep quiet and let me talk to her sister first. And I come in here and find Sunny reading that letter. Whatever it was. And I saw my name in it. And it just… clicked. It all came together. And I hated her for a second or two, and I hated myself for a second or two or considerably longer.

Celestia rose from her chair. With her usual, serene smile on her face, she walked over to the carpet in front of the fireplace. So many fond memories of that place. They felt spoiled now. She sat down on it, sparked the fireplace to life with a single bolt of magic and looked at me again. Calm. Collected. Her eyes betrayed nothing. Because at the end of the day, it mattered little how well I thought I had become at reading her. Thousands of years of experience. If she did not want to let me in, I would not be let in. And I was utterly incapable of forcing my way in.

“Come,” she asked with a tone I could not interpret. “Sit with me. I could use some cheering up.”

I felt my legs move on their own accord. Every step was mechanical, alien. I came over to her. I sat down beside her. No matter how I arranged myself, there was always this little gap between us. And it annoyed me. It angered me. It felt wrong for it to be there, but I could not close it. Was it always there? Had it always been there? Why did I notice it only now?

I failed to cheer her up. It was inevitable. Try as I might, I could not spend her warmth and comfort. I was there, but what did that matter? Maybe it made it even worse. In time, I noticed her trembling. Her mask remained firmly in place. I saw tears spill from her eyes, silently, with her mask firmly in place. Something broke. I could not see it, or hear it, or even feel it. I just knew. Something inside her. And something inside me.

I wanted to scream, but I had no voice. No outlet for all that agony I felt. No will to bottle it up, but no way for it to go.

“Enough!” a sharp voice cut through everything.

Neither Celestia nor I minded. The world became a much darker place. In more than one sense. Outside, massive storm clouds quickly gathered and spread across the sky. They dissipated as fast as they had come, leaving behind a section of the night sky and the moon. I tried not to look at it. It was a hurtful reminder of my many, many failings.

I had hurt her one too many times. Maybe it would be best if I just…

Unnatur-

I dropped into darkness the moment the balcony door burst in, shards of glass flying across the room as something blue shot inside Celestia's study.

The first thing that clued me in that I was returning from darkness was my apparent capability of thinking about this. After that came pain. A lot of it. My joints ached. My muscles ached. My bones ached. But worst of all, my head throbbed with spikes of pain that returned every couple of seconds. I was inclined to say ‘with my heartbeat’, but then again, even given my current state, I knew perfectly well that a heart beating this slow would be quite deadly. And I sure as heck was not about to tell my throbbing headache to increase the frequency so that it could keep up with my heart rate, just so that a potential analogy would work.

My right side was burning up from the heat. Felt like being grilled. Then again, given how sensitive the senses that actually returned to my command were, maybe it was just the midday sun being friendly. My left side, on the other hoof, was damp and cold. I could feel little surface irregularities. Maybe tiny stones? Lumps of dirt? Tufts of grass?

There was a rancid smell emanating from somewhere close by. And I did not want to know the source of it. Nope.

And birds. I could hear birds. One songbird in particular currently drew all of my ire, as its incessant trill drilled right into my mind, mixing some external overstimulation into the ‘pain pot’ that was my head. May it burn, ignited by the fury of a thousand suns! Of course, that single bird did not have the decency to spontaneously burst into flame. And neither did it stop trilling. Ever.

For almost half a second, I was relieved when my eyesight returned. Funny enough, it took only half a second for my brain to process that right now, every bit of light was like burning hot needles stabbed into my skull. I really wished I would fall blind for a couple seconds after I had closed them with force.

So, to take inventory:

Head hurts (rest of body included, but less prominent).

Light hurts.

Sound hurts.

Ground hurts.

Thinking hurts.

Nice.

While I would have loved to curse a little, that would have necessitated thinking about a good curse, and I was not foolish enough not to learn from repeated experiences. And I had repeated them, and apparently kept repeating them, because my headache just kept rumbling on. Lovely.

It took me a while to figure out that this was not going to get any better by just trying to lie still and thinking about nothing. It would need to get a lot worse to even have a chance of improving.

So I forced my eyes open again, enduring the continued hot needle stabs, and I forced my aching legs to move, and my body to shift. I tried to stand up, but the immense vertigo meant that I was just flopping over onto the other side. Good try… good try.

I tried again with results that were not quite as disheartening at least. I had managed to stabilize myself sitting on my belly, with all legs splayed out in all directions for balance reasons. Probably.

My vision took a while to adjust. Colors constantly blurred and bled into one another, forms shifted and changed, and as a rare instance of synesthesia, every time that happened, the volume of sounds I could hear changed with it. It was quite nauseating, which made me think of the source of that rancid smell and that was decidedly not a direction I wanted to think about.

With what felt like tremendous effort, I finally managed to stand up. On four very, very wobbly legs. But hey, small victories and all that. “Buck my life,” I finally cursed. Not exactly original, but then again – I had never been enough of a ‘bad boy’ to actually learn decent curses and decent cursing.

With my vision slowly clearing up, I could see a lot of green, at first. With the occasional brown line mixed in. So trees then. A lot of them, standing close together. A forest. That was the direction of the birds as well. One in particular I would not have minded to throw a stone at. Not with the intention of actually hitting it, of course. I would not want to upset Fluttershy.

Fluttershy.

A familiar name. Right. An image formed in my head. Long, flowing pink mane. Yellow pegasus. Very cute smile. Depending on the time of day and her latest chores, she smelled like forest or wildlife. Great to snuggle. Made the cutest noises when caring for her animals. Or otherwise.

I felt my thoughts drift in a direction that was utterly preposterous. Especially right now, given the circumstances. I wanted to rub my template, not thinking about what that might do to my headache, but lucky me, I stopped as soon as my hoof made contact with my head.

Because it was sticky. Ew.

I slowly, apprehensively withdrew my hoof and almost fainted once I got a proper look at it. I had to quickly reposition my legs to keep myself upright. Blood. I was bleeding. My head was bleeding. Or rather, had been? I could see a surprisingly small patch of reddish dirt under me, where I had probably been lying.

Had something hit me on the head?

That might explain my current state of being – would it not?

“Oh…!” a surprised voice rang in my ears. “Are you alright?”

My still impaired mind nonetheless quickly connected the familiar voice to a name: Twilight Sparkle. And for some reason, a strange phrase seemed to already be connected to that name. It’s always about Twilight. I had no idea what that was even supposed to mean. But it did not matter. Twilight was here, and that meant help. Everything would be alright now.

“Sweet Celestia, am I glad to hear your voice,” I croaked out. “I think I got hit on the head?”

I turned to look at her, but as soon as I did, I stopped myself in growing confusion. She stood a couple of steps away and kept that distance. Why? She looked worried at my head, worried about the probably visible wound, but not worried about me. Why? Come to think of it, her entire body language was all wrong, like we… like we were…

No…

… strangers?

“T-This isn’t funny,” I desperately pressed those words out, despite how hoarse my voice felt.

“Well it sure is not, that looks like a nasty gash! It should be treated immediately,” she replied. Still worried, and still worried in all the wrong ways.

No, no, no… this can’t be happening…

“T-Twilight?” I asked, barely audible.

“Yes?”

I took a deep breath to steady my nerves. And then another two for good measure. “Do… do you remember me?” I dared to ask.

She grimaced. “Really, with a wound like this, it is not exactly the best time to talk!”

So she did!

Or she did not?

No… please no…

I started to talk to her. I tried so hard to get a straight answer from her. Did she or did she not remember me? Was this happening all over again? Was this a new iteration? Did I lose her, did I lose everything once more? I could not bear that thought, yet I had to. Because she escaped, evaded, denied me any answer. I kept bleeding, and I kept talking, and time passed, and she insisted, and I insisted, and I cared not if my blood loss would kill me, because I could not lose her again…

“Answer me!” I yelled at her at the top of my lungs, my entire body shaking. Hot tears streamed down my face and mixed in with the blood. A suddenly all too familiar feeling. My heart broke, seeing the hesitation in her eyes. Seeing that confusion. It all came full circle. Again and again.

I had hurt her. Maybe it would be best if I just-

Unnatur-

The light around us dimmed. I wanted nothing more than to slump down. Give up. I so desperately wanted to give up. Please, I begged whatever higher power was bored enough to listen, let there be an end to this madness… I can’t take it anymore…

A blue mist curled around Twilight's hooves. She cried out in frustration. I cared little. My mind dulled. My field of vision shrank down. My pain subsided. And everything fell apart, me included.

I wanted nothing more than to slump down. But that was not an option.

“Be strong,” Luna said. “I shall reward you personally and in abundance for your persistence later tonight.”

Her promise made me grin like a love drunk young colt. I wiggled a little in my armor, already knowing that it felt alien and would not stop feeling alien anytime soon. In addition to that, it was slightly uncomfortable. Not enough to always be in my mind, but just enough to always slightly annoy me, at least on a subconscious level. Despite all that, I stood at her side, greeting prim and proper ponies as they came up the stairs.

It was part of her duty to play the reception for this charity ball. Not all that dissimilar from the Grand Galloping Gala, she had to stand here for the first, rather lengthy part of the night, smiling and waving and greeting all those vain nobles. Maybe I was not being fair to them. I knew for a fact that some of them were decent ponies. Some even more than that. But goodness gracious, certain specimens made it almost impossible not to think of the majority of them as pompous wastes of space, filled with hot air. And bits, probably. Hot air and bits, so that they keep on the ground.

“I’ll take your word for it,” I replied almost inaudibly. She smirked for a second and that was enough for me to know that she had heard.

I had no real concept of just how large Canterlot — and therefore its populace — actually was. I mostly came here for training or to visit a couple of places and ponies. I rarely stayed for longer than a bunch of days at most. My heart, and home, was in Ponyville. And I had heard that it was deemed quite unhealthy to be separated from your heart for too long. Who would have thought.

As the minutes passed by — and so did the ponies —, I noticed the difference more and more. How they greeted her, and how they greeted me. That was, if they greeted me at all.

We might have stood side by side, but she was a Princess of Equestria. Addressing her first was proper protocol, of course. Adding to that, she was a good deal taller than me. Which was probably the reason why they thought they could get away with it. And honestly, they did – because I let them. I cared little for their greetings or respect. I did not need their respect. Neither did I need their acceptance, or even tolerance. I could do just fine without it, or them.

I was here to support Lu. She loved to tour the clubs and I would never deny her that joy. Seeing ponies party through her entire night, only to wobble home in early daylight to fall asleep with the rising sun, it warmed her heart knowing, seeing, that such ponies and customs existed in this day and age. But no matter how hard she might try, charity needed bits. Bits, as sad as it was to say it, made the world go ‘round. And while your average casual clubber had a bunch of bits to spare — mostly for entry fees and drinks and maybe a carriage home, that was not enough. Not by a long shot.

Charity needed bits. Nobles had bits. Charity needed nobles. And they did not part with them just because of all their collective good will, oh no. They wanted to be entertained, they wanted to be made feel important, they wanted to be seen and known and heard of. See how much good I do for you poor lot by donating… less than ten percent of my wealth, which I will have recovered within half a year.

The evening would be dull enough for her as it was. She had asked me to be there by her side, both to support her and to keep her from playing pranks out of sheer boredom. Which, in a way, was just another lane of support I could offer.

The problem started when, by happenstance, she finally noticed.

“Lady Valencia?” she spoke up. Her voice still carried the same tone she had used all evening, but I could see those tiny wrinkles on her forehead. She was not sure if this was an accident or a misunderstanding or what.

The wine red mare with the pearly white mane turned with a dignified smile. “Yes, your Highness?”

“You seem to have overlooked my companion,” Luna tried to be diplomatic. Well, it was better than outright telling her that she had ‘forgotten’ something.

Lady Valencia however merely looked around, her gaze only gracing me in the same manner she might have looked at a chair or a table, until it settled back on Luna. “I don’t think I have, your Highness.”

The situation was difficult. I had known the very moment the first one ignored me and just strode into the ball room anyway. Because Luna could be rather ill-tempered, but at the same time, this charity needed these stuck up ponies to happen in the first place. “It’s fine,” I quietly told Luna, as to not attract more attention from the line waiting behind her. The holdup would do that on its own in time.

She gave me an incredulous look in turn and quickly shook her head. “No, it is not,” she decided, ignoring my sigh and turned her attention to Lady Valencia. “You will address him properly and you will pay your respects properly,” she demanded.

Lady Valencia either had balls of steel, or did not know who she was messing with. Neither of these options did anything good. “With all due respect, your Highness, but why would I need to address a simple night guard?”

I cringed a little at that. Not giving in had been one thing. But she was rather protective of her guard. A fact that, given how proud most nobles were of how well-informed they claimed to be, the Lady surely knew of.

“Simple?” Luna echoed and, making a decision, now turned her entire body towards the insolent mare. “Were you not given proper invitations, Lady? Were you not informed of the meaning of this event, and its benefactors? Were you not told who to expect at the reception? So how is it that you claim him to be here in a role as a guard only, when in truth, he remains at my side as my betrothed? And how is it that you dare call the guards ‘simple’ when each and every member is a pony brave enough to undergo training in an effort to keep the likes of you safe and sound? So that you may enjoy your dainty little soirees without ever growing the need to defend yourself?”

Her breath had quickened considerably, her eyes trained on the ‘enemy’, and I could already see this escalate only further and further. It was a matter of ‘when’, not ‘if’, until the first blow would be struck. I tried to deescalate the situation as best as I could, seeing as it was highly unlikely that any noble would be the one to strike. I put a hoof to Luna's shoulders, gaining her attention for the moment. “Easy there kitten,” I whispered. “Be strong.” I tried to use the same tone of voice she had used just a couple of minutes prior, and maybe, just maybe, it would have had the desired effect.

But Lady Valencia just could not shut up.

“How easy that could have been a mistake on part of the scribe. And it should have been,” the Lady continued without the slightest hint of intimidation. “You expect us to bow to this commoner? You expect us to show respect to him? Whatever tricks this fraud uses to get the two of you into his bed is beyond my understanding, but ever since he showed up and ‘wooed’ you, talking to or about a Princess comes with a certain feeling of ickiness. I showed him, and will continue to show him, the same amount of respect he showed the reputable and decent ponies of Equestria, your Highness. Now with all due respect, am I allowed to continue?”

I could see Luna boiling right under her skin, seething with anger. “Nay, thou art not,” she pressed out through gritted teeth. I wanted to speak up. I wanted to tell her to be very, very careful with whatever she was about to say next. To make it something that she would not have to regret. I was perfectly willing to take the fall for her and tell her that these ponies were not worth getting riled up over. But then a voice chimed in and let me know that by extension, that would come back to bite me in the rump – because if I said something like that, with this many witnesses, it would pull into question Luna's choice to get involved with me in the first place.

And that stray thought was just enough to delay my reaction too far. Just enough that Luna spoke up first. “Turn,” she commanded. Not in the Royal Canterlot Voice, luckily, but quite loud and good to hear for everypony waiting in line.

“Beg your pardon?” Lady Valencia replied with visible confusion.

“Luna, don-“

“Turn,” Luna increased her volume again. “Thou art to vacate the premises of the castle grounds immediately and art nay longer welcometh here!” The Lady’s jaw figuratively hit the floor. But Luna was not done quite yet. “Guards.” All over the magnificent entrance hall, two dozen guards stood at attention. Two of them left their station and flew over. “Please be so kind as to show Lady Valencia the exit.”

The Lady was still aghast and speechless when the first guard gave her a comparatively gentle shove. “Move.” That at least was enough to jumpstart her brain again. She directed a rather intense glare at Luna, who effortlessly matched and overpowered hers, before directing it at me. I flinched once more, but there was little I could do now. She had brought this upon herself and I honestly did not care at all about her. I did care about Luna though. And I could already see the consequences.

Lady Valencia raised her head in undeserved pride and lost a couple of words on her way out. Something along the lines of ‘this is how we are treated now’, I barely listened. I was focused on watching the growing resentment in many faces. I listened to the murmurs of dissent. And finally, I watched ponies leave. It started with a bunch of them, and only got worse from there.

A few minutes later and the entrance hall was empty.

I stood close to Luna. As close as I could manage without crawling under her. My head swam with implications. Celestia would hear about this. The newspapers would be nothing but this tomorrow. And for weeks to come. Would the PR-team be able to turn this around? How?

“I do not share a bed with my sister,” Luna spat and her hoof came down with force, actually cracking the tile beneath the carpet. I shoved all my panicky thoughts to the side. I brushed against her barrel to remind her of my presence and sure enough, she extended a wing down. “I am sorry that I lost my temper,” she said, but her voice betrayed her. Even now, with the long-lasting consequences slowly dawning on her as well, she still felt justified.

I sighed. “A couple minutes more and you would not have been any wiser,” I lamented, but as soon as the words had left my mouth, I internally screamed and cursed.

I could feel her tense up. Slowly, she tilted her head, looked down at me. “How long has this been going on…?” she demanded to know.

“Luna, no,” I insisted. She tried to step forward, towards the exit where a clerk had control over all the invitations, over all the names, and I desperately stuck to her, clung to her. “Luna, please, stay with me,” I begged her.

I could feel her legs tremble as she fought internally. After a long moment, she clucked her tongue. “We should head inside,” she continued. “The ice cream will melt eventually.”

I knew perfectly well that the enchantments would keep the ice cream from melting for at least another couple of hours. Long after the charity ball would have ended. Long enough to become part of the royal sister’s breakfast. But I appreciated the opportunity she offered me. “You get the blueberry, I take the cinnamon, and we’ll see who gets brain freeze first.”

She nodded absentmindedly. Her first steps were a little wobbly, stilted, but I carefully guided her and we slowly made our way towards the main hall. Once we entered, it… did not become any easier. The entire hall was decorated, a miniature orchestra was performing to no audience and tables upon tables of food were waiting for guests who had decided that they had intimate stakes in their Princesses’ love lives.

My stomach dropped again.

It was a strange dynamic that we shared at this point in time. Like two drowning ponies, near the point of exhaustion, tired of treading water. One goes under, the other one pulls them up again. Then the one pulling goes under, exhausted, and the other one had barely managed to get enough strength together again to pull them up again.

It still felt like drowning though.

She guided me to the table, we took dainty little glass bowls, spoons and ice cream. I was certain that neither of us felt particularly hungry. Quite contrary, the thought of eating was nauseating – but we did it anyway.

Even if the PR-team could turn this around. Of what use was that? The displayed attitude only highlighted a deeper seated problem. How many other ponies thought the same? And the more direct consequences were quite depressing in their own right: This was a charity ball. No donations would be happening tonight, meaning no charity.

A part of me wanted to lament my fate with something along the lines of ‘if only I had never shown my face tonight’, but even with that: What good would that have done? It would only have postponed the problem. What happened tonight would have happened another night then. Or maybe at the wedding. If… there was going to be one, now.

And that thought hurt as well. How many times could a stomach drop before it started to feel rather ridiculous?

I felt as if the weight of an entire society was pressing down on me. Thousands of judging eyes, discontent and unfriendly. Equestria is not ready. Just a stray thought, but… I did not know what to do with it. Agree? Disagree? Disregard? Think about it?

I tended to avoid the spotlight. Because I knew myself well enough to know that I don’t deal well with it. So why exactly was I in this position in the first place? Ah yes. Love.

Love conquers all, Cadance had told me once. Does it, though?

“Not quite how I remember this evening,” Luna said in a somber voice. But despite the downbeat tone, there was something that caught my attention. “The ice cream is pretty good though.”

I turned my head and looked at her and noticed a visible change in her demeanor. She was not furious anymore. She did not seem to dread the coming day. And most of all, her disappointment seemed miniscule in comparison to earlier, and directed at something else entirely. How strange.

She sighed. “You kept playing with that ring the entire night… whenever you thought I did not look and would not notice. I wondered what made you hesitate… why you refrained from… well. I think I might have found an answer?”

A dream.

The realization hit me like a freight train. I was dreaming. Arising thereby, I was sleeping. And this Luna was my Luna, the real one. I had a good idea about why she was here, too. The empty charity ball main hall did not exactly speak of a pleasant dream. Then again, less nobles was hardly something I would usually consider a nightmare. But there were vague memories of other instances. Something with Applejack yelling at me? And me yelling at Twilight? And I felt my heart sink a little as I remembered seeing Celestia weep.

Even from what little I could remember, it gave me the impression that she had her work cut out for her tonight. And of course, my first instinct was to apologize. I knew she did not like that very much. So I tried to keep to the conversation that was already going. “You deserve better,” I quietly answered to no particular question and continued to eat my ice cream. It actually was really good. Good job, brain.

“And who says that?” she immediately wanted to know. Because Luna was the Princess of the Night. The Mistress of the Dreamscape. She knew ponies like nopony else. She knew their bravest wishes and their most depraved fantasies, their darkest secrets and their potentials. She had faith in ponies, in the good in their hearts. Despite better knowledge, as my own mind wanted to add. But every once in a while, she had doubts. It was normal. Unavoidable, really.

I sighed. “None of the nobles ever did,” I replied in honesty. “Neither did they ever say it, nor did they ever show or imply it.” She nodded, acknowledging that part. “It’s me.” Always was. Worst case scenario: Always will be. Truth be told, I was merely projecting. In this dream especially. I did not know why Celestia returned my love. Why Luna and Twilight did the same. It most assuredly was not for a lack of options. And because I did not understand it, my insecurities had a field day. Every day.

“I see a lot of potential within you,” Luna replied with a gentle voice. She softly leaned against me, pulled me in with a wing while we sat right before the ice cream table on the cold marble tiles. “You have a good heart. You have a lot of demons, too, and you struggle to keep them in check constantly. I know that feeling well. I was utterly defeated once… and we do not talk about that.” She winked at me and the ludicrousness of the situation helped.

Helped enough that I could chuckle for a brief moment. “Right. Not talking about that.”

She nodded, satisfied. “I talk to my sister a lot. You come up from time to time, of course, seeing as you are becoming a part of our lives. Years ago, when you two started out, she told me of her fear that you might only feel attracted to her because of her wounds. That you might feel a need to care for her, mend her, dote on her – not dissimilar as fair Fluttershy does with an injured animal. Back then, she demanded of you that you acknowledge that she is not ‘broken’. I give you that same promise unasked. I do not care for you because we share some similarities. It does help to relate, however. A common struggle is just another rope, binding us together – if we want. If we let it.”

I tried my hoof on a joke as well. “I know a couple of other things that bind us together. Actual rope, for example.”

She snickered. And that was all the reward I needed to smile. “Indeed, those are some lovely nights.” She became thoughtful once more, staring in her almost emptied ice cream bowl. Most of the ice in it had melted down already, so she basically stared into a blueberry puddle. Still a very tasty puddle though. “I feel a certain kinship to the Elements. It is hard to explain. I wielded half of them once. I was redeemed by them. Reformed, freed. In a way, it helped me reshape how I think. Knowing names for virtues to strive for. You picked Applejack as your role model. You try to be as honest as you can manage and you seem to do a fairly decent job so far. I see a vast ocean of kindness within you. You are loyal to those you call yours, even if it would be to your detriment. You rarely ask for anything, but are always willing to give.”

I mustered a weak smile. “That leaves magic and laughter,” I concluded.

“Well… I did not say that you perfectly embodied all of them, did I?” she replied with a lopsided smile. “Laughter especially is something you have to work for each time, each day. But maybe that is what I am here for.”

I chuckled and prodded her side with a hoof. “Yeah, because you’re hilaaarious…”

She raised an eyebrow at that. “Do you question me? Or even dare to challenge me?”

“I—Hm.” I shut up.

And she snickered and nodded in satisfaction. “Wise decision.” We refilled our bowls with another scoop, sat back down and munched on it some more before she restarted the conversation. “This has been a particularly cunning nightmare. It kept you hidden from me and separated us as soon as you were within reach. It gained strength from… either hurting you, or feeding off your fear. I am not certain which, as your dream shifted through several stages, but either seems fitting. You fear to hurt us. You fear loss. You even fear inconveniencing us.”

I looked around the empty ballroom and snorted. “Not sure if I would call this ‘inconvenience’.”

“But it is,” she insisted. “Do not forget that time has a different meaning for us. Opinions change like ebb and flow. Bits are just bits, at the end of the day. A symbol, as all currency is. And there will most likely always be a ‘next time’.”

“Easy for you to say,” I countered. “I tend to live in the ‘here and now’.”

“Because you fear the future?” she asked.

“Maybe.” That was what it all came down to, was it not? At the end of the day, it was all about fear. Always has been, always will be. I tried to be the best pony I could be. Sometimes, even I, despite all my insecurities, felt like I did a decent job at that. Felt like I was honest enough, loyal enough, kind enough, generous enough. I really do struggle with laughter, don’t I?

So the question became: How does one battle fear?

I remained silent for a while, before I levitated my once again emptied bowl up onto the table. I had enough ice cream for one dream. “You do know that I still have that ring, right?” I asked with a cautious grin.

“I know,” she answered with a warm, loving smile.

I smirked. “I’m just waiting for the right moment.”

“I know.”