Dreamwalker's Tale: An Anthology

Day 2,151.

Her smile could literally change the world.

It was a simple observation, yet despite that, it felt like a fundamental revelation instead. Something so true and profound that it was meant to make the mind tremble. Her smile probably had changed the world. But this revelation was not about the past. It was about potential. About capability. And in a way, about innocence.

My gaze drifted across the room once more. Not for the first time this evening, and most certainly not for the last time either. I loved seeing my friends. I loved seeing them happy, and I loved seeing them surround me. Close to me. I had to merely raise a hoof and touch anypony’s shoulder and I was certain they too would smile at me. I felt whole.

Rainbow and Applejack were both sweaty messes, grinning like madponies while dancing the night away, their eyes locked in fierce combat. Neither would dare to buckle under the strain they put on themselves. The most intense dance off I had ever seen. In stark contrast, Rarity and Fluttershy were dancing very… ladylike. It was graceful and elegant, like the mating dance of butterflies.

Do butterflies even have mating dances…?

Watching them for even a couple of seconds quickly gave the impression that this had to be choreographed. Their steps followed invisible trails and intricate patterns, their body language spoke volumes without their lips opening from that persistent smile, and at times, they even kept their eyes closed without fumbling their steps once. The only viable alternative seemed to be that they had been doing nothing but this for years and years, practice making them perfect.

And yet I knew better. Somehow, this was just part of their nature. It was a very impressive and very pretty display.

And then there was Twilight. For just a second, I had to chuckle quietly. Just a little bit. She danced with Spike and Derpy and all three of them were appropriately silly. Our eyes locked for a second. And her smile carried a sense of satisfaction and exhaustion and love. And gratitude.

I don’t dance. Ever. At least that was what I had continued to say for years. And I was very, very adamant about this. I did not have walls of inhibition hindering me, oh no. I had bulwarks. Rainbow, being her pushy self as usual, tended to try to coax me ‘out of my shell’, as she put it. Same way she had tried with Fluttershy for years. And she failed miserably, every time. Because no matter how much I wanted to — and I rarely wanted to to begin with — I was simply unable to ‘just get over myself’ or ‘just do it’. I could not jump that gap, could not climb that wall and could not do whatever nice, simple metaphor asked of me. My inhibitions stood firm.

And then there was Pinkie.

Sweet, sweet Pinkie, whose smile could literally change the world.

“You’re doing great!” she praised me even now, beaming at me with such intensity and such innocence. Sad to say, but doubt was more or less my bread and butter on some days. At least, it sure felt like it. But looking at her, seeing her go wild and dance, seeing her try so hard, it was heart-warming. And she made it utterly impossible to defy her.

Thus, I was dancing.

And Twilight was grateful for all the wrong reasons. Or all the right ones? For once, nopony dared to mock her ‘moves’, not even as a little joke or jab. Because there I was, proving without a doubt that it could get worse, that her dancing could be worse, despite what everypony had assumed.

And my inhibitions were reduced to screaming, caged animals, gnawing at the bars, screeching in horror, and failing. Because somehow, Pinkie’s smile kept me going. Kept me on the dance floor, kept me dancing. Just for her. And that beautiful, impactful smile.

Nothing could last forever, obviously. Or so they say. I felt more than just exhaustion creep up my spine. “I think I’m done for good this time,” I said with an uncomfortably raised volume, just so that Pinkie would hear me over the blaring music.

“I’m proud of you!” she yelled back with a huge, face-splitting grin, before she lunged and hugged me. Her entire body radiated so much heat, it was unbearable. Her coat was damp as well. But none of that mattered right now. “Thank you,” she whispered a lot quieter once we were this close.

I was great at doubting. Scrutinizing. Questioning. But there was just simply no way to think that her words had been anything but honest truth. No sarcasm, wrapped in kindness. No little jab, just to be playful. Pinkie tended to wear her heart on her sleeve. And she was proud of me, because I had overcome myself. Even if it was just for this one evening, and for her.

Or rather, for them, as I reminded myself by looking up at one of the party banners.

Proudly announcing: Fluttershy is totally preggers! And we are sooo, sooo, soooooo happy!

The other one hung behind the counter, proclaiming:

From two to three might seem to be

Just a small step for you and me.

But we welcome a new pony

Into our midst with cheer and glee!

Somehow, she made all that text fit neatly without it looking overstuffed. Pinkie-magic, obviously.

“I think I’m going to get a drink. You want some, too?” I asked her, but she just shrugged with a grin.

“I’m fine! I’m gonna dance some more with Twilight, Spike and Derpy!”

I nodded. “Don’t overdo it. And have fun.” I watched her bounce away, over to those three and without a word spoken, she just fell in with the crowd, effortlessly adapting style and rhythm. That was a marvel in itself.

A moment later I managed to tear my gaze away from those four, finally making my way over to the refreshment table. I greedily filled the first cup with what I believed to be fruit punch and gulped it down in one swig. Only then did I notice the second bowl and, with dawning horror on my face, stared into my cup. “Holy cr-“

… and I started to cough violently as the alcohol burned its way down my throat. Half a minute later and I had myself back under control, although I was still wheezing a little. I carefully turned the first bowl so that the little ‘no, Fluttershy, not for you!’-sticker was clearly and unmistakably visible again. And I could have sworn that I had heard Rainbow snicker, so I made a mental note to get her back for that prank. Even if it might not have been one to begin with.

I sat down on a chair next to the table, now with a filled cup that contained a nonalcoholic punch, and just watched. And I quite enjoyed watching. The Cakes had been kind enough to once again lend us the entire ground floor of Sugarcube Corner for our little party and that familiarity with this place had certainly helped Pinkie to get me onto the dance floor in the first place.

My smile bloomed further as I saw Rainbow lean over to Fluttershy, semi-loudly ‘reminding’ her not to dance too much ‘in her condition’. We all had made jokes to that end throughout the entire evening.

‘Eat up, Fluttershy, you’re eating for two now!’

‘Should you really be eating that, though?’

‘You should drink more water, it’s healthy and good for somepony in our condition!’

We were just joking around of course, teasing her. And to be honest, she took it like a champ. Smiling with patience or even grinning in amusement. It had basically started right after the initial ‘oh my goodness, really?!’-screeching contest after the initial reveal had been over with Applejack remarking in a serious tone that we really should not scream in her face, excitement or not, as we could not say what that might do to her or her foal.

Applejack had been trying to be considerate. To be cautious. And involuntarily, she had provided the launching pad for so many stupid comments. Some of them were even funny.

I felt myself shake my head in amusement, that persistent grin still tugging at the corners of my mouth, trying to get them even higher up. It was a great evening. A great party. And really, I was happy for them. Oh so very happy. It almost felt like my many, many iterations, locked away in my head, were happily dancing with me. So many memories told me of little differences. Or tried to, at least, as I still attempted to keep their voices down and bar them entirely if they got too rowdy.

Differences in how this party usually played out. How the punch often was berry-flavored, but sometimes was not. How sometimes, Fluttershy was the one trying to get me to dance, and only in one or two pieces of memories did she succeed. There was a flood of these little bits and pieces. Carried by sheer elation. I felt as free and light and unburdened as I had not in a few years. It felt like everything was right in this world. And if it was not, it would be, given time.

It felt like hope.

“You look really happy,” a demure voice addressed me.

I blinked a couple of times and realized that I had apparently completely zoned out. Spike was dancing with Rarity now. Applejack stood at Sugarcube Corner’s counter and was talking with Twilight. No trace of Rainbow, but I could hear a faint clutter of something in the kitchen. Derpy was… well, basically just resting. She was lying on the floor, breathing heavily and grinning from ear to ear.

And Fluttershy and Pinkie stood right in front of me. “Eh… sorry, girls. I just… I don’t know. My mind wandered off, I guess,” I half-heartedly apologized.

“Oh, that’s fine! It was a good place!” Pinkie happily chirped up. “And I looove seeing my friends happy.”

“I know, I know, same here,” I replied with a chuckle.

“We’re not bothering you, are we?” Fluttershy asked, her usual polite self.

“Nah. Never,” I insisted and patted the chair next to me.

Pinkie vanished for the span of a blink, returned in a pink blur and offered a cup of punch to Fluttershy while holding her own with her mane. I briefly considered asking what bowl she had taken that punch from and involuntarily turned my head to look at the table. But the sticker was still clearly visible and Pinkie knew her parties better than anypony else, obviously.

And I wanted to spare Fluttershy. Despite the comments sometimes being funny, I could easily imagine them becoming subtly annoying. And we had gathered here to share in excitement and celebrate, not to frustrate her. No matter how little that might have been.

“Did you ask the doc what it’s going to be? Or can’t they tell this early?” I asked out of curiosity.

“Oh, don’t you know?” Pinkie answered before Fluttershy could. “They have fancy spells. At least here in Ponyville. They can tell you as soon as you know! Or, as soon as they know, I guess? It would be weird if they told you as soon as you know, without them knowing, right?”

Both Fluttershy and I shared a knowing smile while Pinkie seemed to further confuse herself.

“They usually tell you,” Fluttershy answered. “You actually have to ask them not to do that if you don’t want to know.”

I noticed that something about Pinkie’s reply stuck with me. It was not intentional on her part, of course, but that ‘oh, don’t you know’ remained in my head, spinning in circles. No. No, I did not know. I would have loved to know that from my first hoof experience… but I did not. Celestia and I had been trying for almost two years now…

“It’s going to be a filly,” Fluttershy added. And there was a hint of urgency in her voice that made me turn back from that darkening road I had started to walk down.

My smile returned. A smaller, softer version of it anyway. I had not even noticed it fading. “That’s great to hear. Let me guess… you’re still sticking with ‘Whisper’?”

I saw a little tint rising in her cheeks. “Well, if you don’t want us to, we could always—“

But I shook my head and she stopped. “Sorry, that might’ve come out wrong. It’s fine, really. You should choose the name you want, no matter what. I just… there’s days where I can’t shake the feeling that this is all a giant, self-fulfilling prophecy of something. I remember you two being happy together for entire lifespans. So I bring you together. I remember you two having a filly named Whisper. I tell you, and you think: Oh, yeah, that’s a pretty name, let’s use that! And at some point, the cycle might restart somehow, and I will have broken bits and pieces of this iteration, and it will only reinforce that you two are happy together, and that you have a daughter named Whisper… if you catch my drift?”

Fluttershy furrowed her brow and nodded. “I see. Well… I don’t know what to say to that. I can’t really take those fears away.”

I leaned over and hugged her. I was just glad. Glad that she was this kind, that she was her beautiful, lovely, welcoming self. And while hugging her, I felt a small amount of anxiety melt away. Just like that. And as before, while staring into Pinkie’s eyes, while witnessing her life-changing smile, I almost felt like I could glimpse the truth. Not any truth, but the truth. Some profound revelation about the very fabric of existence.

But it never developed further than that. It could have been frustrating, really. Maybe it should have been. But each and every time I reached this moment, and then inevitably fell back to reality, there was somepony dear to me nearby. And their proximity made it impossible to regret returning.

It might not have been the most appropriate right now, especially since I was still hugging Fluttershy, but I remembered having sex with Celestia and looking into her eyes, and for a couple of seconds, time just… stood still. I got lost in there, and I had this exact feeling. This feeling of glimpsing something greater. Something so fundamental… and then she kissed me. ‘To bring me back to her’, as she had put it. And I could not be cross with her.

This time, I actively tried to stay more aware of my surroundings. And I liked to think that it was due to that that I retreated from Fluttershy with a quiet ‘thank you’. One she appreciated nonetheless, being quite accustomed to dealing with quiet voices. Her own, usually.

“You looked really glum for a moment,” Pinkie suddenly spoke up. But her voice had changed. It was not her overexcited, bubbly self. Her voice was quieter now as well. More restrained. And carried a tinge of fatigue after hours of partying. And concern.

“Ah, it’s nothing,” I tried to deflect with a smile.

But she kept staring. And her stare intensified. Her gaze was drilling holes in my head, until she pierced all walls and inspected my very soul. I imagined this felt somewhat similar to Fluttershy’s stare, to which I had never been subjected, luckily. “I know my smiles,” she slowly, carefully replied, “this isn’t ‘nothing’!”

I sighed. Like a shark in the open sea, Pinkie had noticed blood in the water. There was no escaping now. “I don’t want to be the party pooper, Pinkie,” I pleaded with her.

But she shook her head. “You can only party poop if we let you!”

Something about the phrasing felt off. And I started to get confused and I really did not want to comment on this further. Especially as I could already tell that Fluttershy would back Pinkie up if I made it necessary. She had that mild look of curiosity and worry on her face. So, with my shoulders slumping a little, I fessed up. “It’s about Sunny. Don’t get me wrong, I am so, so happy for you two! I really am! But I can’t help but think about it… we’ve been trying for years now. Well, almost two, but that’s beside the point. I tried to… I don’t know… find something out, I guess. Why it’s not working? But you can’t exactly go to any old doc and ask him ‘hey, quick question, I know alicorns can have foals with regular old ponies, but how low are the chances of a successful impregnation again?’”

While Fluttershy hid her heavy blush behind her mane, Pinkie just merrily giggled away. “Yeah, that sounds silly. It would probably make him laugh, you should totally do that!”

She giggled a little more, but I had a hard time chiming in. I instead sighed again. “I went to the hospital a couple of months ago. Just to make sure I don’t shoot blanks, you know? But no, apparently everything’s as normal as it should be. I know she had foals before. I’m just… I don’t know… I’m not sure what to do.”

Pinkie rubbed her chin with a hoof, making a little, admittedly amusing show of her ‘thinker face’. “Weeell… you could try harder? Like, really, really hard, if you know what I mean?” She grinned suggestively and even winked at me. It was so incredibly silly that I could not help but snort.

“Right, because I haven’t tried really, really hard until now…”

“Well, have you tried reeeaaallyyy hard?” she asked.

At this point, I was chuckling. Partly because of Pinkie’s silliness, and partly because I had heard Fluttershy’s squeaky ‘eep’ as she tried to hide even further behind her mane. Her ears stuck out, though, and they were red. “Pinks, I’m not going to go into detail,” I started and had to quietly laugh for a moment as she immediately responded with a disappointed ‘aaaawww’, “but I’m inclined to bet that we tried more than you two did, and we have considerably less time together than you two. Your imagination may make of that what you wish.”

Pinkie giggled again. No restraint, no time for breathing, just seconds of unfiltered, infectious amusement that stretched into minutes, until I giggled alongside her. I admired Fluttershy’s composure. Or maybe she was not giggling with us because of whatever her mind was showing her right now.

“Well, weee tried very hard as well, I’ll have you know!” Pinkie insisted with a faux posh voice once she had composed herself somewhat, “Very hard indeed!”

“P-Pinkie, could you maybe… stop?” Fluttershy asked, her voice once again barely audible.

But Pinkie was surprisingly perceptive. Always had been. And her continued ‘exposure’ to Fluttershy had trained her for these quiet moments. Her head snapped around, she focused Fluttershy with an investigative stare before scooching over and tightly hugging her. “I’m sorry, buttercup,” she almost whispered. “I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“I-It’s alright,” Fluttershy replied. “I just… I wanted to stop you before you, uhm, tell him details… again…”

Both Pinkie and I shared a nervous chuckle. “Whoopsie,” she commented. “Won’t happen, I promise!”

Fluttershy reemerged from behind her mane, wearing a beautiful, almost serene smile and nuzzled Pinkie's cheek. “Thank you.” Her blush had almost entirely faded. A moment later, she turned her attention to me. “I wanted to visit Zecora in a few days. Maybe I could ask her if she knows of any, uhm, remedies that might help?”

I considered her kind offer. We were not exactly desperate. There had been precedent. I knew it was possible. It was just a matter of time. But I still vividly remembered how she looked at that filly in the Tasty Treat a couple of years back. Peridot was her name, was it not? I remembered that look, that… longing. And how I felt it in my own heart. How much I desired to make her a mother once more. How much I wanted to be a father to our foal. I heaved another heavy sigh and that seemingly small gesture told me everything about my own state of mind that I needed to know. No, I was not desperate. Neither was she. But apparently, it was silently, subtly gnawing at me.

“If it won’t bother you too much, I’d love to accept that offer,” I finally answered Fluttershy after some soul-searching.

And with the kindest smile, she nodded. “None at all.”

Day 2,373.

I had not been sure what to expect. Luna’s letter had been somewhat ominous and vague. Phrases like ‘we need to talk’ tended to put me on edge and I was pretty sure that was normal.

Anypony receiving a letter from their significant other containing such phrases would have been nervous, right?

The other circumstances of our meeting did not help at all. We were meeting in a corner café in Canterlot in the afternoon hours. A couple of hours before she usually would wake up. At a time when the streets were all hustle and bustle. And the café would have been quite full. A perfect setup to deter me from making a scene then.

And the cherry on top was that she wore her illusion spell. On one hoof, that should have been a given anyway. If she did not, she would have to deal with an entire crowd gathering.

Still. All things considered, I was quite nervous and I felt justified in being in such a frazzled state.

“Will you please sit down already?” she asked me. Probably not for the first time.

I blinked and nodded, even if the movement of my head felt a little stiff and stilted. I took the only other seat, opposite of her, and a quick glance to the side told me that it would take ages for any waiter to come by. Which, according to her expression, was just fine with her.

Maybe she’s a changeling, I mused while intensely staring at that cup of tea in front of her. A strong, black one. I could smell it. But Luna did not care for tea. She drank coffee. That awful, disgusting brew. She drank a lot of it. Three cups after waking up. Several more throughout the night, depending on how Night Court went.

You sound like Rainbow, I chided myself. She was of course not a changeling!

“I’m not a changeling,” she insisted, obviously reading my mind. Was that a changeling power? ”I sometimes worry if too much exposure to Rainbow Dash addles your mind,” she sighed accompanied by a warm, amused smile.

I sighed as well. “You don’t drink tea, kitten.” It was a statement. And a test. But I did see her blush a little. Just the faintest tint in her cheeks. It was the one reaction I expected to see when calling her that. And it was there. Which was all the more grounds for confusion. She was Luna, my Luna, but she drank tea. “Something’s seriously wrong,” I concluded.

She grumbled something under her breath. I could not make anything of that out, despite my ears straining to catch something, anything.

I took a deep breath, tried to steel my nerves and just took the jump, hoping I would not be pancaked. “You’re not dumping me, are you?” I dared to ask.

And while she seemed to be horrified that I would even think that, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. I had asked myself on my way over here. I had asked the obvious questions. Had I missed the signs? Had I not done my part to keep this relationship in good shape? Had I disappointed, hurt or pushed her away? I had reviewed my recent memories, searched for clues. We squabbled a lot. Well, not ‘a lot’-a lot. But certainly more than I did with Celestia or Twilight. But we always made sure to make up at the end, no matter what. In a way, I felt like we needed that. It was an option to vent, for both of us.

I could not find anything worth noting. Nothing that could clue me in to the meaning of this.

“We art not ‘dumping’ thee!” she insisted with a harsh tone. She even fell back into her old speech patterns for a moment. But something was clearly bothering her, this was unusual for us. This corner café, this time of day, this everything.

“Alright,” I replied, trying to convince both her and myself that it was, in fact, ‘alright’. “What’s this about then?” And I gestured to the many other ponies in this café, to the busy street, to… her cup of tea.

She took a moment to recompose herself before sighing. “We might have made a mistake with this setup, we-I admit. I thought the number of potential witnesses would keep either of us from making too extravagant displays.”

“Ha! I knew it!” I interrupted her and immediately fell silent with a quick ‘sorry’ after she shot me a warning glare.

She quickly scanned our surroundings to make sure that no additional ears aside from our own were listening before she started once more. “We have been dedicated to each other for almost a year now, and I cherished every single one of these days. I have not felt this loved in a long, long time and while you may not be the only one contributing to this feeling, you do a lot. For me. We-… I have been happy. Very much so. I will admit that I was less smitten with you initially, less so than my dear sister anyway, but you have grown on me quickly. And I love you.”

It's a proposal.

The thought kept circling in my head, despite it making absolutely no sense at all. But goodness gracious me, did it sound like one. For just a fraction of a second, I did not recognize the subtle break she had left, but once I did, I jumped at the opportunity with a big, fat smile. “I love you too,” I answered her. “In a way, I always have. And I’m quite certain that I always will. You may not be the only one, and I know that you struggle with that more than the others, but I will always be there for you.”

It was confusing to see her breathe a sigh of relief. Something really was gnawing at her. And the more I saw this, the signs of it, the less nervous I was, the more determined I became. I would find out what it was, and I would vanquish it!

She nodded after a brief moment, more to reinforce something to herself than anything else, and after avoiding eye contact for that short time, she looked up at me again. “There might have been a… slight oversight on our side. I mean, on my side.”

Did she just sound embarrassed? No. No, that could not be.

At least it had become apparent that she thought she had made a mistake. “I’m sure whatever it is, it’s nothing we can’t fix,” I offered with a smile, only to see her grimace. I was fumbling around in the dark and apparently, barely anything I tried to support her had the intended effect. Instead of putting her mind at ease, I made it worse. Maybe it would be for the better to let her talk until she was done.

“Roughly half a year ago, we started experimenting with transmutation spells,” Luna restarted the conversation back on track. I just nodded. “I once excelled in theoretical and exotic magic even beyond what my sister was capable of either casting or understanding,” she continued. “And it was easy for me. I have a talent for certain spells. Yet despite that, I do struggle with transmutation. It is more a strength of my sister than mine. Thus, I had to limit myself to spells I was able to cast. In my attempts not to rely on others, especially my sister, I might have dug into the Old Archives. Spells of that time were less refined, less complex and thus both easier to learn and easier to cast. They, uh… had a lot less security measures as well.”

She hemmed and hawed. And that got me worried more and more. I stretched a little to put a hoof over hers, just for the bodily contact to be there. Her eyes met mine and I tried my most reassuring smile. “I’m with you,” I told her in another attempt to reassure her. Maybe something had gone wrong? She did not seem panicky, which was sufficient to keep me from panicking. Because old, insecure spells sounded like a perfect ‘oh, I only have a month left to live’-setup, and that… no, that was something I was not thinking about.

At all.

Luna put one of her hooves over mine and I furrowed my brow in concern as I felt that slight tremble in them. She was building up to whatever ailed her. “The transmutation spells might have canceled out any and all contraceptive measure we had taken…”

I blinked. Once, twice. “Uh…” For some reason, my mind was just… it had just stopped. “What?”

I felt a smile slowly creeping up on my face and seeing that apparently made her smile as well. “I’m pregnant, firecracker.”

That… had to sink in for a second or ten.

All the while, that smile grew and grew, until my cheeks started to ache and it felt like it could rival Pinkie’s typical face-splitters.

“You’re—? Are you sure?” was my first coherent question.

She nodded. And I just… I ripped my hooves free, only to throw them into the air and flail wildly. “Wooohooooooo!” I screamed, immediately grabbing everypony’s attention and making quite a scene. I even jumped up, only to immediately grab the chair in my levitation, put it down and climb on top of it. “Hey everypony, I’m gonna be a dad!” I yelled in excitement before hastily climbing down and throwing myself at Luna. “I’m gonna be a dad!” I repeated before I started laughing and sobbing at the same time.

I vaguely heard some ponies stomp their hooves, some applaud, some holler. The applauding ones were probably just being polite, but apparently, some actually did care more about expressing joy for somepony else instead of caring for public perception.

Right now, I cared for neither. I did not care for the rest of the world right now, only for Luna and how I could not hug her any tighter, how happy I was and how I never ever ever ever again wanted to let go. “I’m gonna be a dad!,” I croaked out as soon as my voice would allow me. I nuzzled her cheek, her neck, her mane, every part I could feasibly reach without letting go of her.

And she held me, and she laughed a little, and she surely regretted not doing this at home.

It took several minutes for me to calm down to any level vaguely similar to ‘normal’. I had rearranged my chair to sit right next to her and could only occasionally take my eyes off of her belly. Where, unsurprisingly, nothing could be seen just yet.

I had peppered her with kisses at some point, until she asked me to stop as ponies started to politely cough and pointedly look away. And I still felt this urge to just be all over her. Kiss her. Cuddle her. Hold her. And scream some more, just to let everypony know how happy I was. I felt a certain kinship to Pinkie, and how she sometimes started to vibrate in place...

“I most certainly made a mistake with this setup,” she mumbled to herself, but her genuine smile betrayed her. And just to make that crystal clear, I guided her face with a hoof and kissed her, pouring all my joy and love and happiness into it. Only after I let her go did we both open our eyes again. “Not a big mistake, mind you, but—“ she started.

“I will kiss you until you refrain from calling this a mistake!” I interrupted her with a doomsday-threat and followed through immediately.

She giggled a little as soon as I pulled back again. “Oh woe is me, whatever shall I do…?” she whispered, leaning in until our foreheads touched and our horns crossed. It felt electrifying.

“I love you,” I whispered despite the decently loud background noise. “I love you so, so much…”

“I noticed,” she replied with a snicker. Another minute or so and she had composed herself enough to once more address something, as, apparently, that had not been the only thing on her mind. “There is something else, however. I… want our foal's name to be ‘Stardust’.”

I sighed and rested my chin on her shoulder. “I should have seen that one coming,” I mumbled.

Luna agreed with a nod. “Yes, you should have. You cannot show me all these memories, tell me of our family with such love and reverence and not expect me to fall in love with this little one. Our little one.”

“Lu, he won’t be—… He won’t necessarily grow up to be him. Don’t you think it might be a tad unfair to burden him with these expectations before he even got a chance to be his own pony?” I voiced my concerns.

“He or she,” Luna insisted.

“The doctor didn’t tell you?” I wondered.

“She wanted to, but I asked her not to,” Luna clarified. “I am… well aware of the potential downfalls of this idea. A name is more than just a word used to call others by. ‘Stardust’ is a beautiful name, and it would befit a colt just as much as a filly, and I am certain that we will both love him, or her, either way. If it turns out to be a colt, I will not hold him to any expectations. You fear that I might want him to become the little colt you know. But in the end, a mother always has ideas about her foals. What they might turn out to be, who they might become. My idea might just be a little bit more concrete. But I think I can manage that. As for you, you would bear that weight either way. His or her name won’t change that. These memories are with you at all times, no matter if you lock them away or not. They are there. They influence you. And you will have to deal with them one way or another. You know my opinion on this. These memories are gifts, and you should use them to your advantage. Or at least cherish them. This Stardust, our Stardust, will not be the same. Cannot be the same. But I never knew him like you do. And I never will. I want our foal to grow up and become a kind pony. I want him to be clever, and patient. And those are the expectations I bind to this name. And I think we can do that. And even if we cannot… expectations can change as well.”

I had listened intently. And to be honest, she had a couple of decent points. We could call our foal Smiley and it would change little. The name ‘Stardust’ felt important. Because my memories linked it with something important. Somepony important to me. But at the end of the day, I would have a foal. Another foal. And I would have to be careful either way. This was not all that different from my hypothetical situation of one day having foals with Celestia and-or Twilight. Don’t choose a favorite. Don’t compare. Don’t favor. Easier said than done, of course, but good advice nonetheless.

I sighed. “You’re not going to budge on this, are you?” I asked her with a half-smile.

“I do not think I shall,” she replied with a soft, almost soothing voice.

I raised my head, craned my neck a little further and kissed her cheek. “’Stardust’ it is, then.”

I saw her smile, and it made my heart flutter. I thought about our foal that she was carrying, and it made my heart flutter even more. I was about to tell her again how much I loved her when another pony stepped up to our table and offered us a menu. The sapphire-blue pegasus mare wore the cafés employee attire. She put the two menus down on the table after a moment and smiled at us. “My apologies that it took so long, it has been a busy day so far. And I wanted to congratulate you two.”

I grinned from ear to ear. “I’m gonna be a dad,” I remarked with more pride than my chest could contain.

Luna, meanwhile, rolled with her eyes despite her wide grin. “My apologies for, well, him. I think I might have broken his record.”

Day 2,527.

While I would have loved to call this ‘our weekly get-together’, the fact of the matter was: We did not manage to do this weekly. Or on a consistent basis, for that matter. Thus, it was more of an ‘occasional get-together’. Whenever our schedules actually aligned for once. While mine was not all that full on most days, Fluttershy had a sanctuary to care for, all her animal friends, the little outpost at the old castle ruins, a wife and a three months old filly. And Rarity, well. She had a dozen or so boutiques sprinkled all over Equestria, new fashion lines to design, gems to hunt, social gatherings to attend to, two unofficial fiancés and a somehow still surprisingly rambunctious little sister.

So this was truly more a break for those of us who needed it.

When I arrived at Café Hay, I immediately noticed Fluttershy already waiting at one of the outdoor tables. And to my amusement and slight worry, she looked like she would keel over any second now. I waved a hoof at Savoir Fare, the cafés waiter who by now knew all of us quite well and gestured to Fluttershy. He understood, gave me a nod and continued with his work, while I made my way over to the table.

“Wow, you look spent… makes me look forward to Stardust running around,” I said as a greeting while sitting down.

Fluttershy jumped a little. But just a little — because she was too exhausted to be truly startled. “They do less running than you would expect, at first… it is more the screaming,” she replied with a tired smile.

“And yet you seem somewhat content?” I asked out of curiosity.

“Oh, I am!” she quickly replied. “Whisper is just the cutest filly I have ever seen and Pinkie is really trying her best.”

I chuckled at that. “Wow, harsh,” I jokingly commented.

Somehow, the jest seemed to sail right over her head as she almost violently shook it. “Oh no, no! She’s doing great! She helps me wherever she can, despite having her own workload and e-everything…”

She yawned midway through, blushed and immediately apologized. While it was endearing, in a way, I could not help but worry a little. “Are you sure you’re okay? Maybe you two could use some additional help? I know for a fact that Apple Bloom or Sweetie Belle would help out in a heartbeat. All you have to do is ask. You know that, right? It’s not just the two of them either. Derpy or Dinky would jump in as well. Twilight would. Heck, I would. Might be good practice for Stardust.”

Fluttershy grimaced a little at that. “Please don’t ‘practice’ on our filly…?”

I cringed a little and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, sorry, that came out wrong.”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry.”

Savoir came around to our table shortly after. “What can I bring you two today?”

While Fluttershy considered her options for a moment, I kept our waiter busy. “I’ll have a daisy sandwich and a glass of water. Rarity will be joining us aaaanytime now, so I think a cup of coffee for her would be appreciated as well.”

And as soon as I mentioned that, Fluttershy both grimaced and delighted a little. “Coffee. That might be worth a try. I take one cup as well. And a glass of apple juice.”

Her stomach audibly grumbled. Both Savoir and I shared a knowing glance before I addressed the issue at hoof. “You had breakfast, right?” Instead of answering, however, Fluttershy just blushed a little and avoided eye contact. I sighed and looked over at Savoir. “A nice, filling salad should do fine for her. Maybe some buttered toast as a side dish.” Savoir nodded and excused himself, vanishing into the café again. “You really need to look after yourself, Fluttershy,” I insisted.

“That is what I have been trying to tell her for ages,” Rarity chimed in as she walked up to our table with an apologetic smile. “While I believe I could still claim this as ‘being fashionably late’, I must admit that I am just plain late. I am awfully sorry for that.”

“Oh don’t worry!” Fluttershy immediately tried to ease her bad conscience.

Rarity took her seat at the table and made sure her mane was perfect once more. She had apparently trotted a part of the way. “I took the liberty of ordering a cup of coffee for you,” I let her know and her grateful smile was enough for now.

“So,” she started after she had finished settling in. “Our dear Fluttershy ‘forgot’ to eat again, I take it?”

The pegasus in question quickly retreated behind her mane, so Rarity’s attention shifted to me and I just nodded with a sigh. “She’s apparently been quite busy with Whisper. And to an extent Pinkie, I guess. Could you maybe ask Sweetie Belle if she has time to help out a little?”

Rarity mulled the idea over before she suddenly remembered something with a little grimace. “Ah. I fear that might be less of an option, she is touring right now. But she will be back in a week or two.”

“Hrm. I might go to Sweet Apple Acres then, maybe AJ or Apple Bloom have time,” I mumbled to myself.

“Please don’t?” Fluttershy spoke up again. “Really, it’s not that big of an issue, I just—“

“Nonsense, darling,” Rarity interrupted her. “We don’t question your capabilities. But friends help friends, right? And we want to help you. And clearly, you could at least use one full night of sleep. When was the last time you had one of those?”

“Uhm… m-maybe… three months ago?”

Rarity's eyes widened. “Goodness… well, yes, this is clearly a state of emergency. We will help you, darling.”

And her tone made it perfectly clear that this was absolutely out of the question. So Fluttershy just resigned herself to her fate and maybe, just maybe, it was telling how little resistance she offered to that.

“So, Dreamwalker, how is Luna?” Rarity asked with a smile.

“Fourth month and getting hotter every day,” I replied with a chuckle. That quickly escalated into a short bout of laughter once I saw Rarity sputter a little.

“I—, well that—, I really did not need to know that,” she insisted.

V for victory. Even Fluttershy giggled for a moment. It was quiet. Barely audible. But I had heard it, and I appreciated it.

Before I could fluster Rarity some more, Savoir returned as her shining knight in armor, carrying a tray with our drinks and food on his back. He set the tray down on the mushroom-shaped table and distributed each order while greeting Rarity. “Welcome back, miss Rarity. I hope you had a nice day so far. What can I bring you today?”

The seamstress obviously appreciated the smell of coffee. As did Fluttershy. I tried to take shallow breaths. But her eyes wandered the table and she saw our food. Of course I had not ordered any meal for her, as I had no idea what she wanted, if she was even hungry to begin with, and so on.

“I’d like to have a daffodil salad,” she replied with a smile, but that quickly soured and before Savoir could turn, she spoke up again. “And could you add some pickles, maybe? Hm. I admit, I do feel a little hungry. Maybe a side dish… add two toasts to it, but with mayonnaise instead of butter, please?”

Always the professional, Savoir nodded. “I’ll bring your food shortly, miss. Enjoy your coffee while you wait.”

“I will,” she replied with her usual melodic voice.

Once Savoir had been gone for good again, there was a pregnant silence at the table.

I had noticed Fluttershy grinning a little and as soon as she saw that I noticed, she hid behind her mane. Which was telling, really. I pointedly stared at Rarity and with her attention back at the table, she locked eyes with me and raised an eyebrow. “Is something the matter, dear?”

“You’re weird,” I blurted out without much thinking. And of course, I immediately regretted my poor choice of words, as she put a hoof to her chest.

“Excuse me?” she accused.

“I, well… sorry, that was not what I—… are you feeling okay?” I course-corrected.

“Nothing I have to complain about and certainly nothing a good meal won’t fix, but thank you for your concern.” And just like that, she was tame again. And friendly and… slightly deflective? “How is Whisper doing so far? I am so sorry I could not manage to visit these past few days…”

Fluttershy was quick to answer. Too quick? Maybe I was being paranoid again. But they happily and merrily chatted away and I was interested in the topic at hoof. So far, a common fear we all had shared seemed to hold true — Whisper was quite the scaredy-pony. Maybe her mother subconsciously influenced her, maybe it was part of her nature — who knows. But luckily, Pinkie was right there with her to bestow upon the little filly the wisdom her own ma and grandma had granted her. Or at least she tried very hard to do just that.

A couple of minutes later, Savoir brought Rarity’s food out. A salad with a side dish of two toasts with mayonnaise. And maybe I would not have brought that back up again, had Rarity not suddenly started to be quite picky. She took a fork to the salad and enjoyed the first couple of bites, until something apparently did not quite hit the right spots and she started to sort out the… peas?

But she likes peas…, my thoughts pleaded with me to distrust my eyes.

So I waited for an opportunity. An opening, a tiny lull in the conversation to jump in. And soon enough, I found one. “Oh it was not all that bad. My friends are additional eyes and ears, looking out for her. The squirrels are especially helpful,” Fluttershy concluded that little sidetrack.

And while Rarity nodded and probably tried to imagine a densely packed mound of squirrels securing a small filly inside, I took my chance. “Something wrong with the peas? I thought you liked them?”

And that got her attention rather quickly. “I did!” she insisted. “I mean, I do!” she quickly corrected herself.

And just like that, an almost predatory grin dawned on my face. She had stumbled. There was weakness to latch onto, a crack in the perfect demeanor. And I could see that ‘bring it!’-expression of defiance on her face. She would not go down without a fight. “You know,” I started with a casual tone. “I couldn’t help but notice. And once I did, I remembered something. Last week, when we were all meeting over at Sweet Apple Acres? Didn’t you ask AJ to leave out peas in her stew as well? And you haven’t even touched your coffee yet. You’re just smelling it from time to time. And pickles. In a daffodil salad. And that prank jelly donut Rainbow slipped you a couple days back? You didn’t even bat an eye at that.”

“Well, I was not about to give her the satisfaction,” she weakly defended herself, ignoring all the other points to focus on the one thing she had an immediate response for.

It was all very telling. “Sure. Well, you were fine with me ordering a cup of coffee for you, so… go ahead, empty that one. I’ll gladly order another one for you.”

“I don’t think I will,” she shot back.

“I don’t think you can,” I retorted.

“Oh you will see!” she insisted, levitating the cup into the air.

And while Fluttershy had resorted to remaining silent throughout the entire exchange, this was the point where she felt it necessary to intervene. “Rarity?”

“Oh come now, darling! One cup surely will not be the end of me,” Rarity answered.

“No, it won’t, but… please?” Fluttershy continued. And even if one had a heart of stone, cold and uncaring when faced with her pleading tone… her entire body language shifted a little, and her eyes… goodness gracious, her eyes. She could have asked anything right now, and it would have been hard, if not impossible, to say ‘no’ to her.

And Rarity, for the most part, was a reasonable mare. She sighed deeply and sat the cup back down. “You are right. I should not let myself be goaded like that.” Her attention shifted to me and there was an undertone of accusation in her voice as she quietly reprimanded me. “And you knew perfectly well what you were doing, yet you insisted on doing it anyway.”

I blinked and sighed. “I’m sorry, I… apologize. To be honest, I had just noticed something was weird and I wanted to know.”

“Well, you should have just asked, like any normal pony would,” she kept going.

But I was not about to take all the blame here. “Right. Because clearly, you would have answered me truthfully and honestly, right? You would never deflect my idle curiosity, right? That’s why you shifted the topic so quickly. And if I would have to take a guess, I would probably bet that Fluttershy is in on this. She seemed rather keen to keep you engaged and the conversation rolling. Rolling away from this.” Adding to that: Where was the fun in plainly asking? Rarity herself loved her games, but I was not allowed to play them? As if!

“I… I’m sorry,” Fluttershy meekly offered. And I was not even sure who she was addressing, or what for.

Rarity huffed a little, eying the coffee for a moment. “I wish I could,” she mumbled, before raising her gaze again. “Well. It seems the cat is out of the bag anyway. Partly at least, and at this point, I have no intention of making this any harder on poor Fluttershy. I am expecting.”

A continuously growing part of me — the majority, at this point — had expected as much. Yet I remained silent for a moment, as I felt a need to process this. “You’re kidding me, right?”

Rarity sighed. “Dear, do I really strike you as that kind of prankster?”

Well. Given very specific circumstances, she did not strike me as a prankster at all. So there was that. “Fair enough.” I felt a little overwhelmed with the revelation, at least for a minute or two. I took a sip from my water and could not take my eyes off of her. “Sooo… I’m not sure if I’m supposed to congratulate you or not? Like… I would be really, really happy for you, but you kept it a secret until I basically dragged it out into the open and now I feel bad…”

She took a moment to mull that over before leaning over and giving me a short hug. “It is fine. You may be happy for me.”

I nodded and started to smile. “So you’re not about to…”

“Oh heavens no!” she quickly interrupted. “This is a product of love. And decent planning.”

I could not help but grimace a little at the probably unintentional jab. Stardust had most certainly not been planned. At all. But that was not the point. None she wanted to make as well, I was sure of that. “So… why keep it secret?”

Now it was her again who grimaced a little. “Decent planning, as I hinted. As soon as news gets out, certain balls will start rolling. And right now, I do not possess the required resources to stop these avalanches dead in their tracks. So I had to carefully plan around this. There are certain things I want to get done before that point. As soon as little Pristine becomes an official part of our lives, I want to be able to spend as much attention on her as she requires. Which, judging by Fluttershy’s state, will be ‘all and more’.”

Fluttershy just smiled tiredly and nodded, agreeing with the statement. Or she smiled because of that name. Sounded like a filly… maybe. I considered asking, but I still had a difficult time judging what Rarity was willing to share and what was one question asked too far. She could be rather tight-lipped when it came to personal affairs.

“So… who’s the father, if you don’t mind me asking?” I assumed that question would be fair game, seeing as there were two legitimate options. And I did notice Fluttershy stifling a giggle.

Rarity was less enthused by the question, though. “I do mind, actually. But I am sure you will understand. A lady does not tell, after all.”

I nodded. ‘No’ was a legitimate answer, after all. But just as I was about to entirely drop the topic, Fluttershy leaned over and half-whispered with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “It’s Fleur.”

“Fluttershy!” Rarity whined in her obviously very ladylike outrage.

“Is it now,” I hummed with a grin and chuckled once Rarity started to blush.

“That really is none of your business!” she insisted, still wordlessly trying to chide Fluttershy for her betrayal.

“Of course not, of course,” I relented with an amused smile. Oh it will be sooo much fun to tease her…!

There was a sudden bang that startled all three of us — with Fluttershy actually vanishing under the table. And then confetti slowly fluttered down over the general area of the cafés outside. Very, very colorful confetti. And Rarity sighed in defeat. “I knew I should have kept my mouth closed. She cannot not hear,” she mumbled, while a very, very excitedly grinning Pinkie appeared from… somewhere, probably. She was carrying her saddlebags and I noticed a very familiar looking banner hanging out from one of them. It was the Zecora-themed one with the rhymes proclaiming another foal coming into our midst. “Pinkie, darling, how long have you been standing there and how much did you hear?”

Pinkie's grin was so wide, it was almost frightening. She followed Rarity’s gaze to her saddlebag and quickly pushed the barely visible banner deeper inside. “I haven’t and nothing, but I’m ready when you are!” Pinkie proudly proclaimed while Fluttershy slowly reemerged from under the table at the sound of her wife’s voice.

Rarity looked over to Fluttershy, turned her attention to me and then shifted it back to Pinkie. Despite her sigh, she smiled. That kind of smile one wore when realizing that one was dealing with friends. Keeping secrets was tiring, bothersome, and usually futile. Talking to them, however, was much easier. And maybe, just maybe, they could even keep a secret for a while longer.

“Give me a week, Pinkie, and you may hang that up once more, yes?” Rarity offered.

And Pinkie saluted her. “Ma’am, yes, ma’am!” She quickly bounced over and gave Fluttershy an almost indecently passionate kiss before happily and merrily bouncing away. “See you later at home, buttercup!”

While Fluttershy still seemed to be stuck in her dreamlike haze, I could not help but furrow my brow in unison with Rarity, and we both spoke up at the same time, voicing the same concern.

“Was she not supposed to look after Whisper…?”

Day 2,666.

I whistled a little melody while I made my way through the hallways of Canterlot Castle. And I played an old, familiar game with myself. While passing the windows, I slowed down just a little, to a walking speed, and basked in the sun’s warmth. And once I passed the window, I sped up to a trot until I reached the next one. Somehow, I managed to align the rhythm of my melody with my shifting speed.

I passed by several doors, guards, and art. I greeted the guards with a nod, of course. I had manners, after all. And I did regard some of the artworks on display with interest. Being a creative type myself — if given the chance and opportunity, at least —, I was usually more drawn towards music, as that tended to get my own creative juices flowing. But I could appreciate the occasional painting or sculpture.

After several more minutes, I finally arrived at a much livelier part of the castle. The kitchen.

Servants came and went like busy ants in a colony. I tried to keep to the sidelines so that none would need to step around me, but eventually, I reached the door and immediately realized how little hope there was of me succeeding here without bothering anypony. The kitchen was brimming with activity. I even saw a flame shoot up a little further in, but since nopony freaked out, that was probably part of the cooking process. None of the chefs were idly standing around. Of course not. And none of their many assistants were, either. That left me with no other choice but to wait for another member of the kitchen staff returning from wherever and bothering them.

“Hey, uh, miss?” I addressed a mare with off-white coat, but she trotted right past me with a ‘sorry, busy’. I waited for another couple of minutes, tried my luck with another two staff members, but they reacted in a very similar manner. I was patient however. I was usually easily disheartened and dissuaded as well, but I had to stand my ground and keep trying, as this was not for me, but for Celestia. And I could bear making a clown of myself for a while longer for her.

Fate smiled upon me as a young stallion stepped up to me. “You’re Princess Celestia’s—… uhm…”

I offered him a hoof. “My name’s Dreamwalker. Nice to meet you. And thank you, thank you, thank you for stopping by. I’ve been trying to get somepony’s attention for the last twenty minutes or so, but they are all so excruciatingly busy.”

“Ah. Right. Well, the name's Quick Tap, nice to meet you as well. Can I help you with something, then?”

“Yes. See, there’s a… I’m honestly not entirely sure what exactly they’re called and I don’t want to embarrass myself further, so I’ll just say that there’s a chef in here who’s doing all the cakes and pastries and whatnot. The sweets. His name is Fruity Cake, I was told? He was supposed to prepare a banana split tart and I wanted to go get it, buuut… I don’t think it would be a wise idea to actually step into that madness. Everypony seems to know their place, with little room for somepony not belonging there.”

Quick Tap grinned and nodded. “Good observational skills, but I was told to expect nothing less from the night guard. I know him, so I could jump in and ask for you. Shouldn’t take too long.”

“That would be great, thank you!”

And with that, he was gone. He stepped back in line with the other ants and crawled inside the hill, where everything seemed chaotic to outsiders, while following a strict internal logic. And just as he had said, a few moments later, he stepped out again, unbothered and without causing chaos. It was magic.

“He said Day Court had ended early?” Quick Tap asked.

How was that an answer to my question, though? “Uh… I know?” I initially replied with no small amount of confusion, but quickly added, “I mean. Yes. Yes, it did. That’s the reason why I’m here. Court ending early was kind of a planned thing and we wanted to have a nice, relaxed afternoon, hadn’t had one of those in a while.”

Quick Tap nodded. “Well, he said a guard came by maybe half an hour ago and took it.”

That really was not helping my confused state. Why would another guard…? Then again, they would only do that if ordered to do it. So either Luna was playing a prank again, or Sunny had something in mind. Either way, there was little else Quick Tap could help me with, so I had no reason to keep him any longer. “Thank you for helping me out. I think I shall investigate the missing cake now,” I joked.

He chuckled a little at that. “Sure, you do that. Have a nice afternoon!”

“You too.” And with that, the ant crawled back into the ant street and its rhythm. It was impressive, like clockwork. I watched for maybe half a minute longer before I started to walk again, along the corridors and around edges, up stairs and past doors and guards. I had less of an eye for the artwork now, and while I still nodded, greeting the guards, I did not slow down for the sun's warmth.

My reasoning for going straight to Celestia’s study was simple. If Luna was playing a prank again, I stood no chance. And I really did not want to spring a trap that was meant for her sister. Last time I did that, I ended up with a singed coat, minor burns and a very panicky Luna trying to extinguish a small chemical fire. It would not have been anything but a minor annoyance to Celestia, but I just had to walk into that room despite noticing the night guards in front of a door that was supposed to be guarded by day guards.

If, however, Celestia had sent for the cake herself, then I would find her in there anyway, in addition to any potential reasons for her decision. So I did not hesitate and stepped up to the door. The usual inspection followed, one guard searching for weapons, before allowing me to enter. They sometimes skipped the search, as my face was somewhat known by now, but that entirely depended on who was stationed that time. The guard was large, after all.

As soon as I stepped inside and heard the door close behind me, I smiled at what I saw. “Well, this looks familiar,” I greeted her.

Celestia stood on that thick, plush carpet in front of the lit fireplace. Two very comfy looking pillows were laid on top of the carpet for good measure, and on a small tray nearby, the cake was waiting, pre-sliced and with two slices sitting on two plates. On that same tray, a steaming pot of tea and two equally steaming, already filled cups. And I noticed a faint smell of sunflowers in the air. It was warm and cozy and everything looked so damn inviting.

“I wanted to do something nice for you,” she opened with a warm smile. Her regalia was already off to the side, and she was just Celestia. My Sunny. Less regal, but still graceful. Less imposing, but full of love.

“Because you don’t do that for me otherwise, like, ever, right?” I teased with a grin and slowly walked towards her. As we met, she lowered her head and we shared a long, quite satisfying kiss. “Hey love. I missed you.”

She smiled. “It has been less than half a day,” she remarked.

I nodded. “I know. Your point being?”

That made her giggle a little, and I loved it. “Lie down on your belly, will you?”

“Yes, my Princess,” I complied in a faux posh voice. A horrible impression, but I could not be bothered to try again right now, instead plopping down on the pillow. I expected her to do the same so we could enjoy our tea and cake, but instead, she sat down on her haunches beside me. I was about to ask what she had in mind when she carefully placed her hooves on my shoulders and started with cautious, slow circling motions. “Uhhhh… that’s nice,” I whispered.

My mind drifted to Aloe and Lotus, but that did not make any sense. She clearly had taken lessons. Sometime. And that was certainly a riddle to solve later on. But right now, I tried to relax and lean into her efforts. Quite successfully as well, as I actually had to keep myself from falling asleep. And she seemed quite amused by watching me become putty in her hooves. “Enjoying yourself?” she asked after leaning down, whispering directly into my ear.

I moaned a little as she pressed her left hoof into another knot. “Very much so, yes,” I answered with a little delay.

The massage took maybe half an hour, maybe a little longer. I kind of lost track of time. But once she was done, she stood back up, only to rearrange her pillow right next to mine and lie down. I scooched over a little more and leaned against her. “That felt heavenly,” I praised.

“I am very happy to hear that. And I take it you are quite relaxed now?” she asked.

There was something in her voice that gave me pause. She was aiming for something. Getting at something. There was a point to all this, an ulterior motive. But she had done good work, I was indeed quite relaxed. And way too lazy, right now, to bother with puzzling over her game. I just nuzzled her and sighed in utter happiness. “Very much,” I answered.

“Good. In that case…” She leaned down once more, and placed a kiss on my head, then another one on my ear. “We did it.”

She let her words linger in the air. Like a fine wine one had to let breathe before tasting it. At least that is what I was told to do with wine, as I was no connoisseur. And the longer these three words lingered, the more I realized their magical nature. She was patiently waiting for the realization to dawn on me, as she often did, and when it happened and my head snapped around, she was already looking at me, watching my reaction, burning every moment into her memory.

We did it. Like an echo, her voice was stuck in my head. My vision became blurred as I teared up. “Finally!” I half-laughed, half-sobbed and threw myself at her. Which, given our relative positions, amounted to a hug. For a good long moment, I just stuck to her side. Hugged her. Nuzzled her neck. Breathed her scent in. Welcomed the warmth of her body. But it did not take long until that started to feel insufficient. My less than graceful attempts to get to her resulted in me rolling onto my back, awkwardly grabbing her chin and pulling her down. Sometimes, it had its downsides that she was so much larger than me. But we managed. We always did. And she followed my invitation willingly.

Let’s call it an invitation, sure.

And I kissed her. I clung to her once more and kissed her for all my love was worth. While still spilling tears of joy. While still repeating ‘Finally!’ in my head. Three years, three months and a couple of days after we first had decided to try. And we finally did it.

At some point, I let her go. She did not want to, so she stayed close, muzzle to muzzle. I could see her tears, the damp patched and trails they had left on her face. “You are beautiful,” I whispered.

And she quietly giggled. “You pick some of the strangest moments to make that known,” she replied and kissed me once more.

She was right, of course. She usually was. “Filly or colt?”

“Filly,” she giggled once more, a little less restraint, a little louder. Just out of sheer joy.

“We’re going to have a little filly…” And I chimed in. Because I wanted to. Because I felt like it. Because I needed to.

That moment stretched for however long it wanted to. We were just looking into each other’s eyes, occasionally kissing, occasionally spilling new tears, occasionally hugging. And we laughed. We were silly and giggled and laughed so much. I felt like I could burst with happiness.

“What do you think of ‘Aurora’? As a name?” she asked.

A part of me wanted to be confused. We had talked about names on so many occasions throughout the years that I could not with certainty tell if that one had ever come up or not. I certainly had not mentioned it. I had not told her anything about the other iterations of my life, or our life, rather. I had never told her of Aurora. Yet here she was, my beautiful love, proposing that exact name. Maybe Luna had told her? Maybe Twilight had written about it at some point. Maybe.

I did not care. Not right now, and maybe I never would. It was a beautiful name. Chosen by a beautiful mother, for a beautiful filly. “I love it,” I replied and kissed her once more. She smiled and accepted and we had made a decision. And my smile grew into a smirk. “You know… we’ll need to have sooo much sex now,” I started.

“Oh? Do we, now? And why would that be?” she asked with a playful smile.

“Well, there’s years and years of barely any sex happening ahead of us, most likely,” I answered in faux contemplation. “I’m already facing the predicament that Luna, being nine months in, is growing hotter and hotter each day and we just can’t, you know?”

Celestia grimaced a little. “I really do not need to hear that.”

I quietly chuckled apologetically. “Sorry. But, you know… you could make me shut up… just to be safe…”

I heard her shift a little and soon enough felt her primaries trail along my barrel. I saw that fire ignite in her eyes as she dove for another kiss. “I like that idea a lot,” she whispered.

Provided one did not overdo it, banana split tart made for a fantastic late dinner substitute…

Day 2,955.

I woke up in what felt like the middle of the night. The sun was not up, was not even rising yet, the sky still black as ink, speckled with stars and a couple of dark gray clouds. It took me a moment to realize what woke me up to begin with: The other bedside was empty.

“Twilight?” I asked in the empty, dark room. No answer followed. I furrowed my brow and contemplated going back to sleep. Her side was still warm. And I had not noticed her getting up, so she had been careful about it. Which meant this probably was not an abduction scenario. No villain resurfacing to get revenge, no strange magic or power ripping her from our bedroom.

Probably.

“Ahhh, buck me,” I quietly groaned into the silent room and disentangled myself from the blanket. There was a good chance she was in the bathroom, which meant braving the ‘cold’ of the castle interior for a couple of steps. Three doors down the hallway. A world-spanning odyssey. Still, it meant actually fully waking up and getting up and moving around. But I knew myself. I knew that that nagging voice would not let me rest again that easily, and moreover: I knew that, if by any chance, something actually did happen, I would never be able to forgive myself.

As soon as I left the bedroom, I furrowed my brow. No light anywhere. Even with the bathroom door closed, that teensy tiny smidge of light should have been noticeable. I walked over and tentatively opened the door anyway, just to confirm that the bathroom was empty at first glance, and dark. I closed the door again and felt a little stumped for a moment. There were several more bathrooms in the castle, sure, but why would she choose any other than the closest one?

Maybe she went down to the kitchen for a midnight snack or something?

I followed my new idea down to the kitchen area where I did find signs of recent activity, but those only served to increase my concerns. A slice of bread on a plate, an opened glass of peanut butter, the lid lying right next to it, but the knife was lying on the floor. And again, no light source.

She doesn’t need one, I reminded myself.

“Twilight?” I asked again, a little louder this time. But still no response. I stuck my head out of the kitchen door, into the hallway. “Twilight, this isn’t funny…” No answer.

What if…?

And there it was. One of my worst enemies. The unbeatable question.

I tried to resist. I tried to stem the incoming flood of worries and horror scenarios, but ultimately, the only thing that would have helped me succeed in this battle would have been Twilight showing up right now. Which did not happen.

“Ugh, fine,” I grumbled and made my way over to Spike's bedroom. I knocked once, faintly, before I remembered Spike being Spike and knocked again, a lot louder and more insistent.

A moment later, I could hear grumbling and shuffling and then the door creaked open to reveal a very sleepy looking dragon. “Dream? Uh… it’s… dark. What’s up?”

“Twilight’s missing,” I replied with a sigh.

“Again?” he asked while rubbing his eyes.

“It’s different,” I tried to convince him. “Checked the bathroom already, checked the kitchen. Bed was still warm, so she couldn’t have been gone for long. Seems like she made her way to the kitchen, was about to make herself some bread or something, but the peanut butter glass is still open and the knife is lying on the floor. I called for her, but no answer. I’m worried.”

He half-listened, which, given the time of day, was the best I could ask of him and sighed. “Of course you are,” he replied with a tired chuckle, as if someone had shared the astonishing revelation that the sky was, in fact, blue. “Right, so… castle search?”

I cringed a little. Did this really… was this really that much of a recurring thing that we had proper protocol for it? “If that would be alright with you? I’m really sorry, I just—“

“Nah, it’s fine,” he interrupted me and patted my shoulder. “I’m just glad you weren’t around when she started learning teleportation. I’m starting at the bottom.”

“I’ll take tops then. Thank you, Spike.” And despite my bad conscience, I did not waste any more time. I just made my way upstairs and started searching room by room, occasionally calling out for Twilight. We met in the middle again, so to speak, which was one floor higher than our bedroom had been. “Any luck so far?” I asked, but he shook his head. And by now, even he looked a little worried.

Maybe my state of mind was infectious.

There was a chance she had left the castle. Some weird errand or a sudden call from Luna or whatever. There could have been several other explanations. But they were unlikely, were they not?

“Found her.” Spike's voice reached me and I quickly cantered over to him. He stood in front of the opened bathroom door that was next to the dining hall. Light poured out and I had to wait a couple of seconds for my eyes to adjust before I could see Twilight… sitting in front of the toilet, half hanging on it for dear life.

“Sorry for worrying you so m—… much,” she croaked. “I heard you, but I just could not… answer…”

“You okay, Twi?” Spike asked, stepping inside and looking her over. “You look like Pinkie after the whole ‘baked bads’-thing.”

She tried a brave smile before immediately grimacing again. “I feel like it, too.”

I had followed Spike in and immediately noticed the acrid smell emanating from the toilet. A second later, it became apparent why, as Twilight heaved and puked. Again, it seemed. “Was it the peanut butter?” Spike asked.

“No,” Twilight replied. “I mean… maybe? It smelled so good, but tasted so awful…”

“Really? I ate some last evening, right after dinner. Seemed fine to me…?” he wondered. But then again, Spike's tastes were… strange. Probably had something to do with him being a dragon and all that.

“I felt sick and was about to—“ Twilight started, before dry heaving a couple of times. “Yes, thank you, body… that. I tried to teleport to the bathroom, but somehow, my magic got redirected and I landed in the dining hall.”

Now we were worried.

Having eaten something bad was one thing. But Twilight losing control of her magic was a downright scary prospect. I put a hoof on Spike's shoulder. “Spike, run over to Fluttershy. Tell her I’ll be taking Twilight to the hospital. We might need Zecora at some point.”

He hesitated for a moment before nodding. He stepped up to Twilight's slumped-over form and hugged her very, very cautiously. “I’ll be back as fast as I can,” he promised before shooting me a ‘take good care of her’-look and once I confirmed that with a dead-serious nod, he ran off. Literally.

“Right, so—“ I had wanted to tell her to get ready, as I was about to help her up, but her horn suddenly sparked to life.

“No, no, no!” she whined, and a second later, a bright purple flash blinded me.

“Twilight?!” I yelled in fear. If she lost control of her teleport… she was able to teleport to Canterlot. Maybe even further by now.

“Help,” I heard her miserable groan.

And despite that, I felt relief wash over me. She was still here. But it was quite obvious that we had to hurry. I followed her voice and found her in another bathroom on this floor, somehow entangled in the showers curtain. “What in Tartarus…?” I asked before trying to help her out.

“I don’t knooow,” she whined. “And I don’t understand it…”

Luckily, her entanglement looked way worse than it actually was. “Can you walk?”

She tried to stand and, well… that would not work out in our favor. Not when we had to walk the entire distance to the hospital. “I could—“

“No teleportation.”

She shut her mouth again and somehow looked even more miserable. I considered our options for a second before carefully lifting her in my levitation. She was way too heavy for me to carry her the entire way, but it would suffice to put her on my back. I was no Big Macintosh, and I would be slow, but it was the best option I could think of right now.

“But what if I have to vomit again?” she quietly asked.

I considered that for a brief moment before shrugging lightly. “Then you do that. Nothing a bath can’t solve.”

We went outside and I tried to find a balance. A new way of walking, how this changed weight distribution worked. I quickly figured it out… until we arrived at the stairs. Where it just as quickly turned out that stairs were a serious problem. But I managed to get her down by levitating her a couple of stairs, setting her down and recharging, before repeating that process again. A little overexertion later, and we had made it outside, where it was not exactly easy to carry her, but at least there were no damn stairs.

Whatever her stomach had had, it had been lost a while ago. Throughout our journey, she dry heaved a lot, and on several occasions had to ask me to stop entirely, just so her stomach could settle at least a little bit, before we resumed walking.

Arriving at the hospital felt like a relief in more than one sense. Nurse Redheart admitted us and after some explanation, Twilight was quickly carried off on a wheeled bed. I looked after her, trying to reinforce in my own thoughts that she would be fine, that these were professionals, that they knew what they were doing, that she was in good hooves now – until Redheart cautiously poked me with her clipboard. “There are several questions I need you to answer,” she repeated.

“Yes, right, sorry,” I apologized and turned to her.

She glanced at me and could probably tell that despite my best efforts, I had some trouble listening. “She will be fine, don’t worry. First thing they will do is put a dampener on her horn, that should deal with the random teleportation. We usually use those for unicorn foals with exceptionally strong magic, like Pumpkin Cake.”

That actually did help. To know that she would not just disappear in the blink of an eye was another relief. “Thank you. You, uh… you had questions?”

“Yes. I need to ask about her medical history,” Redheart resumed her anamnesis. “You mentioned her vomiting and dry heaving. Has she had problems like this in the last few days or weeks?”

“No,” I answered. “Nothing this severe. She had felt a little queasy the past week or so, but nothing that actually impacted her too much and it usually quickly faded.”

“So she felt sick in the morning?” she asked with a cautious smile.

“I… uh…” What?

Redheart quickly resumed her professional attitude and cleared her throat for good measure. “I will continue with my questions and we shall see what comes of this.”

“Right… thank you…” What was I even thanking her for?

A couple of minutes later, I was sitting down in the waiting area. I didn't quite understand what took them so long. If this was just a routine… but then again, maybe they were really, really thorough? My efforts to keep myself from panicking were bolstered considerably when the doors opened and just about everypony entered the waiting room. Applejack, Rainbow, Pinkie, Fluttershy, Rarity and Spike.

“What? What are you all doing here?” I asked dumbfounded.

Spike chuckled a little and scratched his neck. “That’s, uh, on me. I kinda ran into Rainbow on my way over to Fluttershy.”

“Yeah, literally,” Rainbow interjected with a raspy laugh.

“So I told her,” Spike continued with a shrug.

“And she then told me,” Applejack chimed in. “And it did not feel quite right not tellin' the other girls.”

I hugged Applejack. Tightly. And grabbed whoever was not quick enough to flee and pulled them in as well. It soon devolved into a pony group hug and we were all a little… glad about that. I realized that Spike had seemed less worried, which probably meant that he had talked to Redheart. Which would also explain why all the girls seemed less worried than I initially expected them to be, but still sighed in relief.

“Any news yet?” I asked Spike. He more or less confirmed my assumption by shaking his head. “Well… guess we’ll wait, then.”

The hospital waiting room was far from inviting. It was an area designed for waiting, gnawing at hooves and being nervous. Of course they tried to make it more comfortable with potted plants and nice, comfy chairs, but no matter how a chair was formed, it had no chance to be comfy if the pony sitting in it constantly shifted around and just could not keep still.

Minutes passed by. The night sky started to brighten up. Inky blackness waned and gave rise to a deep blue, passing over into lighter and lighter shades, until a new dawn. Fluttershy and Pinkie were silently watching at the window. Applejack tried to keep a rather impatient Rainbow occupied by playing a card game with her. Which had been provided by the hospital. And Rarity, gem that she was, just silently sat beside me and occasionally put her hoof over mine whenever my constant shifting and shuffling grew too agitated. Spike, however, paced. And no force in this world would be able to stop him. He paced in this room, and on the odd occasion outside of it.

And then, the doors opened and Twilight stepped in, followed by one of the doctors. She looked a little paler than I would have liked, but still way better than I remembered her from earlier. Maybe the difference was the light. She wore a simple, black ring around her horn and put up a fighter’s smile.

The doctor stepping up to her side addressed us. “Alicorn physiology, for obvious reasons, is a little researched field, but as far as we can tell, she is perfectly fine. Well, aside from—“

And Twilight interrupted her with a huge grin. “I’m eating for two now.”

And there it is.

I could not tell what came first. Relief, or joy. I tried to rush to her, but I was not the only pony doing just that. All the girls, and Spike, did the same and with the doctor quickly and carefully stepping to the side, we just immediately formed another group hug.

There was so much chaotic babbling. Rarity tried in vain to congratulate Twilight properly, Fluttershy was once more barely audible at all, Applejack just forged on past anything and anypony, Rainbow's voice broke while trying as well and Pinkie was spouting something about cakes. Or maybe the Cakes, I could not tell. In the midst of this madness, I managed to find the right muzzle and kiss her. And as I did, I could see the anxiety she had tried to hide slowly drain away. I could see that bottomless well of joy open up and fill everything up, I could see her eyes tearing up. “Arcana,” she whispered, and despite our friends all talking, I heard her loud and clear and nodded. Our little filly will be a jewel among jewels.

And with a chuckle, I tried to tilt my head enough to look at Rainbow and Applejack. “You know… I never expected you two to be the slowpokes one day. Everypony’s starting families – any plans?”

What had initially been meant as a tease quickly turned out as something else as suddenly, both shared a look and I could feel a lot of conversation happening rather quickly before both turned with smug grins. “Well… funny you should say that,” Applejack started.

“You did not…!” Rarity gasped.

“Everypony freeze!” Pinkie suddenly yelled and as if she had psychic powers, we actually kind of just did that. We watched her pull her party cannon out of her mane and… had she been wearing these saddlebags the entire time? She pulled a banner out of them. By this point, it was more than two years and three months old. And that time showed. She had fixed it multiple times. Carefully, lovingly repaired every tear and every patch and repainted every faded letter.

Pinkie’s eyes frantically switched focus between Twilight and me as well as Rainbow and Applejack. “This is an emergency! I need a second banner!”

And with everypony starting to laugh, the cannon went off and shot an entire party room’s worth of decoration over the entire waiting area. Including a banner hanging from the ceiling, neatly tied to the sterile hospital lamps, reading the same as it had done years prior:

From two to three might seem to be

Just a small step for you and me.

But we welcome a new pony

Into our midst with cheer and glee!

And because Pinkie was Pinkie, the second banner she somehow produced from her mane read:

Proudly announcing: Fluttershy Applejack is totally preggers! And we are sooo, sooo, soooooo happy!