Dreamwalker's Tale: First (and Last?) Adventure

I woke up in heaven. A very cozy bed beneath me, captured in a warm embrace and with the sound of soft, quiet breathing to my side. Celestia and I were lying on the bed, closely intertwined. I sighed quietly, happily. And decided to follow my first impulse. I closed my eyes again, inhaled her soothing scent and nestled even closer. There was a slight movement from her, but either she did not wake up, or she decided to follow my lead. I listened to her heartbeat. Strong and powerful, and yet at the same time calm and steady. I cherished every inch where our bodies met. And while I quickly lost track of time, I became certain that this… this was, must be, what heaven felt like. Free of worry and concerns. But welcoming and full of soothing warmth and love.

“We will have to get up eventually,” her quiet voice broke the silence.

I grinned into her coat and pursed my lips to give her a kiss right on top of her chest. And then another, and another. “Do we?” I mumbled in between and enjoyed the soft hums she gave in appreciation. “We’re on vacation. Week in bed. Sounds lovely.” Another kiss, higher up this time. She inhaled and shifted ever so slightly. I knew what was coming. She was mustering her formidable force of will. To become The Voice of Reason. Can’t have that, I thought with a lazy grin and ever so carefully took a patch of her skin between my teeth. Just the tiniest nip, right on her collarbone. A small gasp followed, then a faint ghost of a giggle. And I felt even more happy now.

Despite my caution, the thought of maybe having caused her pain occurred unbidden. To ease it away, I kissed the very same patch I had nipped at. Twice, for good measure.

She leaned down and placed a tender, loving kiss on my head. And just as warm as the gesture was, so clear was its message. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. This is fun, but we have stuff to do.’ Something like that. And I had to battle my sheer unwillingness to comply. A sudden burst of defiance. I wanted to be a whiny little brat, arguing in futility against the unfairness of it all.

In the end, I sighed in defeat and refrained from whining. I did not want to ruin the mood after all.

I raised my muzzle and disentangled my limbs from hers. At least partially. But the effort itself was rewarded with yet another kiss and a soft “Good morning.“ I replied in kind, and for a moment, I sank into her eyes once more and came to a full stop to just gaze at her. Admire her. Not dissimilar to what I had done the previous day, while we had transported the egg over the gap.

However, even the last traces of this spell eventually faded away. I sat up in bed and rubbed my eyes. My mind was drawing blanks. No thoughts, no worries, no plans. Nothing to consider or think through for several moments. Until my stomach grumbled. Quite loudly, too.

And as if they were having a conversation all on their own, my love’s belly answered with a low, more subdued growl of its own. We both looked at each other before we giggled a little. “We might have forgotten something yesterday,” she offered.

I nodded in agreement. With all the excitement, we might have indeed. “Bathroom first?” I asked briefly.

“We are on vacation,” she answered with a lazy smile and slowly shifted to roll onto her back. Her wings carefully stretched out to their very impressive size, jutting out over the edges on both sides of the bed.

I had to snort in amusement. So vacation meant brushing teeth was less important? Or that food did not taste strange when consumed before that? Or did it mean that a bladder had suddenly increased storage volume? I considered a quip of sorts, but ultimately thought better of it and just sparked my horn to life. I fumbled around with the clasp on her saddlebags for a moment before I finally pulled out one of the bags she had brought along. It floated over to us and I opened it up to hoof one piece to her and take one for myself. It had the size of a thick slice of bread and smelled faintly of vegetables. Carrots and beans, mostly. Someone with refined tastes and a better nose than mine would probably have been able to identify a lot more than that.

I took a bite. Allfood was… a military ration to deal with unreliable supply chains. Considering this origin, it tasted really good. It was a bit chewy and most definitely way too dry, but it tasted good. I freed our Neverend bottles to flush down our meal. Allfood and water. We were living like kings and queens.

But truthfully, neither of us minded much. She was still lying there and somehow managed to eat without even raising her head. And without leaving crumbs all over the pillow. Quite an impressive feat. And I just absentmindedly nibbled at my piece, satisfying my neglected tummy, while I continued to gaze at her. Right now, it was less of a carnal desire that made me look at her, and more… well, I even had difficulties putting that into words myself. I came to the mildly awkward conclusion: I just generally liked to look at her.

The slice was eventually gone. We both took a second one, and a third one after that and continued our breakfast until we finally felt satisfied. I might even have gone too far by stuffing myself with a third slice.

“How is Luna doing?” she asked me while she lingered there and left the hard work to her stomach.

My thoughts drifted back to last night. “Well…” I started with a growing smile.

I arrived in the dreamscape and much to my surprise, I was already expected. It was usually the other way around. I came in and had to find her. But tonight, she was there. Right there. Close enough that I only had to raise my hoof and it would brush along her flank.

It was mildly alarming to see her in her current state. She paced around frantically. And as soon as she noticed my arrival, she breathed a sigh of relief. Which obviously only worried me further. “Finally!” she greeted me, only to rush forward and hug me rather tightly.

“H-Hey Luna. You’re looking good…” Alright. Maybe I really needed to take a step back and sort myself out before talking.

Luna pulled back, actually pushed me back at the same time, and stared at me with a mixture of panic and disbelief in her expression. “Art thee—… are you drunk?!”

That could obviously not be true. I had one teeny-tiny glass, after all. One. I admittedly rarely drank alcohol. But it was a glass of wine. That was basically, like, old grape juice. Nevertheless, I heard genuine concern in her voice and faint traces of panic. It was enough to quickly make a decision and thus, I sobered up in an instant. I loved the dreamscape. “No?” I asked, finishing the job of getting rid of the last traces. “No, of course not.“

She did not even notice. Which was quite alarming.

She instead resumed her frantic pacing for a moment. “We needeth thy— I need your help! And you are not allowed to tell Tia!”

“I—… uhm… okay?” I was really starting to get worried. Luna was steadfast. Fuzzing like this was not like her. “Lu, calm down. And sit down. And then take a breath and tell me what’s wrong.” But she just did not listen. She paced instead. And was about to start babble in an effort to explain whatever this was. And I was having none of that. “Luna! Sit!” Eyes wide, her entire body tensed… and she plopped down on her haunches. There was no small amount of indignation in her expression, but she kept her mouth shut for now. “Now please, just… take a breath. In, hold, out.” She inhaled while she closed her eyes. And after a second she exhaled slowly at a measured pace. “Good. Now listen, whatever is going on — you know this place better than I do. We got time, alright? So try to slow down. Sort through this stuff. And tell me what’s wrong.”

She did not like others telling her what to do. It was endearing at times how she could huff and puff and stomp. On other occasions, I was willing to argue that she was entitled. Honestly, neither point of view seemed entirely fair. Right now, my choice of words luckily seemed to do their work just fine and she gave a curt nod in acknowledgement of my ‘help’.

“This concerns my Night Court,” she started.

Which made sense, it was just that… it was night. Right now. Where the Night Court would be held. So whatever happened must have happened very recently. Which might be a good thing or a bad thing, depending on the nature of it. I nodded and wordlessly asked her to continue.

“I had made the decision to start Court early. Before dusk, to ease the transition. Three nobles visited the open audience. They brought one of their scribes along, and a lot of paperwork. They addressed me politely and with respect. But I would not be so easily fooled into a lull. I had been warned about these sorts. When they started to explain, I found it difficult to glean their intentions at first. They were endlessly rambling on about laws I knew little about. Of course I had done my research, I had tried to understand how our laws had evolved and changed. But they were basing their dispute on minute details. Intricacies I did not fully grasp. They apparently had found a gap in the tax law? Seeing how polite and friendly they seemed, I was under the impression that they merely wished to inform us of this oversight, but oh no. No, no, no, no, no. They wished to exploit it! Of course they did. Stuck up little inbred bunch of—“

“Luna,” I admonished.

She sighed and nodded. “Right. They presented me with a document. Some sort of tax restitution? Quite frankly, the numbers on those documents were ridiculous. They had calculated the excess taxes for a dozen generations past, or something like that. They told me that their three families would ‘refrain from informing the other families or the public’ if the processing of their documentation could be ‘reasonably sped up’.”

“They tried to blackmail you,” I concluded and furrowed my brow. And I suddenly had a very, very bad feeling. Did she not constantly jest about throwing arrogant supplicants out of the windows...? What if she truly did?

Luna confirmed my initial suspicion with a nod. “Now, I do not know how much gold our treasury currently holds, exactly—“

“I don’t think it’s a ‘treasury’ anymore,” I cut in with a small smile and tried not to panic. “Or a vault. Or gold.” Surely she did not throw ponies out of windows, right?

“It is not? Well that is even worse then!” she complained. “I told them I would look into this as soon as I can, that I would refer to the treasure master when next I had the opportunity. But they became rather… pushy.”

Here it came. I was torn between wanting to grin and grimace. Pushing Luna was a dangerous game to play. It did not take a lot for her to push back — and when she did, well. She was no mare of half-measures. “What did you do to them?” I asked both in anticipation and dread.

“It is less about what I did, and more about what I said…”

I tried to stifle my chuckle and took a minute or two to finally recompose myself. I could feel my cheeks and ears burn. “… she’s doing fine,” I belatedly finished my sentence.

“Fine?” Celestia echoed doubtingly.

“Well, I mean… it’s Luna we’re talking about,” I tried in jest, but Celestia’s expression soured enough to quickly abandon that attempt. I instead started to explain, albeit still with a grin. “Some pompous nobles barged into her audience and tried to pull a fast one on her. They had found some hole in the tax law or something and tried to blackmail her into giving them quite a substantial amount of bits.”

“That sounds serious,” my love replied. “How did she handle the situation?”

I shrugged nonchalantly. “She basically told them to go buck themselves. She just didn’t say it this quickly, or this quietly, or this calmly, or with such refined and flowery language.”

Celestia’s eyes bulged a little. “Less refined?”

I could feel my cheeks burning again and nodded in amusement. Hearing Luna swear up a storm was always quite impressive. I was pretty sure she could put an old sailor to shame and according to legend, those folks had quite the repertoire. “After that, she ordered the guards to drag them out of Court and out of the palace.”

My love’s pristine white coat somehow got a little whiter still. “Oh goodness.”

And with a final sigh, I let my amusement go. While it was all fun for me, Celestia looked troubled. I scooched over and prodded her wing until she retracted and refolded that one side. It allowed me to sit down on my belly right next to her and lay my head on her chest. A good position to look up at her. “Don’t,” I quietly asked.

“But what if she—“ Celestia started.

And I cut in. “She won’t. Love, remember. This is a part of this entire experiment… adventure… vacation… thingy. Once upon a time, she was your equal. She worked her lovely rump off in those past years to catch up. But there’s only so much books and aides and clerks can do for you. You agreed that she’s ready for this trial. So let her have this trial. Let her learn and grow at her own pace. It’s just a week. Maybe we will return to find a mess. I don’t think we will, but I won’t say that it’s not a possibility. And if so, she will need your help. And you can help her sort things out. Explain mistakes. Show her how it's done. And she will learn and understand and have a better grasp. Both on how this works today, and on what you have to put up with on a daily basis. And if we return and no mess is to be found? All the better! Then you can sit down for your next breakfast, and have a nice, long chat about her experiences. Don’t send a letter. Don’t return home. She’s a warrior, and an artist. She needs to find her own style of rulership. And she can’t do that if you’re constantly there, helping her out with your style. That way, she will just try to emulate you. And I think you’re well aware that this won’t go well forever. I dare to say that this was part of why you agreed to this vacation in the first place.”

Celestia stayed silent for a long while. I did not mind. My head rose and fell with her every breath. I felt her heartbeat at my throat, and it lulled me into a doze. I eventually saw her make a decision through my half-lidded eyes. And a playful spark danced in her eyes. “You are getting smarter. I should be wary.”

I snorted and chuckled. “Nah. I just talk a lot and eventually pick the right things to say.”

Despite the little sparing, she sighed again. “It is hard. She has always been my little sister. And I have always been her big sister. I looked out for her. Protected her as best as I could.”

For just a fraction of a second, images flashed before my eyes. Images of Luna in her armor. Battling hordes of changelings. Fighting through the ranks of enslaved crystal ponies. Driving her lance through the third heart of a thrasher worm. But that, I reminded myself, was different. Battlefields were something Luna could deal with. Cuts healed. Bones mended. But politics? Fake smiles and backstabbing? Intrigue? On the social stage, she was very much vulnerable. In a way she had difficulties to defend against. But Celestia had been there. To keep her safe. Out of harm's way. Out of those ballrooms and fancy dinner parties.

Mistakes had been made.

This time, she would not push her away. One could stand to learn from experience after all. And even failures and wounds were experiences.

I mimicked her sigh, raised my head and angled it down to kiss her chest before I looked up at her again. “She will always be your little sister, no matter what. As much as you will always be her big sister. And she will always look up to you in some manner. And you will always dote on her. I know that change is scary. I’m scared shitless every time something even remotely threatens to change. But things need to change. And you are one heck of a clever mare. You can work to make sure that it will be a good change. You’ve done that for ages. Literally. It feels different because it’s about Luna this time, and not ‘just a nation’. It hits closer to home. But trust me. You’ll be fine. She’ll be fine.”

After another bout of silence, she shifted and captured me with a kiss. “I love you.” Her words were all-encompassing. A ‘thank you’ for my pep-talk. A sign of appreciation for me trying. An expression for all the little and less little things chasing around in her head.

I smiled happily and kissed her back. “Now. How about we let Canterlot be burned to the ground by your vengeful sister and start the next day of adventuring? Preferably with fewer pits and near-death experiences.”

She quietly giggled and I loved that. “I like the sound of that. The latter especially.”

Said and done. A few minutes passed as each of us made our way upstairs and eventually back down. We put our saddlebags on, I studied the map again and chose our next destination while I simultaneously crossed out the first one. I thought I had noticed my left saddlebag getting a little heavier, but that made absolutely no sense and I disregarded the notion. That was even easier as Celestia came up behind me and let her primaries trail along my spine, up to my mane. A shudder ran down my entire body and for just a second, I considered pouncing on her right here and now.

I instead confidently walked out of the tent and immediately into a wall. At least it felt like that. I stumbled for a second, my breath caught in my throat and I had to plant my hooves firmly on the ground to steady myself. “Sweet Celestia, that’s awful,” I gasped.

“I am not sure what to think of that,” I heard her murmur behind me.

“Careful,” I tried to warn her, “it’s really, really warm outside…” A for effort. Celestia stepped into a burning late morning sun and cared little about the nascent midday heat. She instead sidled up to my side and extended a wing over me like a parasol. I took a moment to acclimate to the surrounding heat. Even inhaling felt like drawing burning air into my lungs. The shadow she granted me was appreciated and quite helpful. “You know… I’m not about to make a case for being sweaty and sticky all day, but right now, I’m considering the possibility of Rarity’s tent actually killing me. Sheesh, that’s a rough transition.”

It got easier with the passing minutes. We moved down the hill and left our camp behind once more. And as soon as we slipped into the jungle, she folded her wing again and we walked in the smothery, humid jungle air we already knew from yesterday. It was not exactly a pleasant experience, but it was better than walking in direct sunlight. And just like the day before, we eventually fell into a dull routine. We made our way across uneven terrain and progress felt incredibly slow. But that mattered little. What mattered was the next couple of steps. To get around that vine. To get over that fallen tree stump. To cross that small creek.

At one point in the early afternoon hours, a bunch of apes in the surrounding trees were making a ruckus. I could identify them as apes easily enough, but what apes specifically, well… I was no zoologist. They were looking for trouble and their teeth were admittedly impressive. Yet despite their numbers, I felt confident. I was not entirely sure what exactly she did. Celestia opened her wings and extended them. Not even to full size. She did not cast any spells or take any defensive stance. She just watched them for a moment, listened, and eventually picked one of them. She stared at him and he became quieter and quieter until he retreated. His retreat unsettled the others, who soon stopped hollering as well and eventually followed suit.

I was inclined to draw parallels to what Fluttershy could do with her stare. But this felt different.

I would ask about this. Eventually. That was what I told myself, at least. But seeing how the heat affected my capacity to think straight, I was not all that confident in my current memory.

Maybe two hours later, we arrived at our destination. It was another hemispherical dome built out of stone and covered with all sorts of greenery. The jungle had almost entirely grown over the structure which made it considerably harder to spot in the jungle. Without knowing where to look for it, one could easily pass it by.

Just like yesterday, the entrance had no door, no hallway, no enchanted threshold. Just a hole in the dome.

We stepped inside and the temperatures dropped almost immediately. A small part of my brain was wondering about that. I noticed it yesterday as well. This stone should absorb the heat and eventually give it off on the inside, should it not? Certain furnaces were built like that. Used by bakeries, I believed? An exchange of energy. Heat was ‘more energy’, cold was ‘less energy’. ‘More’ should flow towards ‘less’ in an attempt to even out the levels. But this just did not seem to happen here. Maybe it was some special kind of stone? Or the heat really was getting to me and I overlooked something critical.

We had circled around the structure on the outside of course. To get a first impression of its size and how many chambers we might have to deal with. But with this thing being half-buried beneath the jungle, it was quite difficult to tell where it actually started and where it ended. Now that we were standing inside though, it became quite clear that this would not take as long as our last trial. It was a single chamber. No other exits, no stone slab doors, no trapdoors or stairs. That was not a guarantee, of course — maybe succeeding at this first challenge would somehow magically open up another passageway. That was always a possibility. But right now, we only had to contend with a single test.

The entire chamber was empty except for the stone pedestal in the middle and the flat stone bowl on top of it. No pits. No ropes. No ladders or statues. No pressure plates, no pillars, nothing. Given that the chambers yesterday had been rather obvious about what they expected to be done, we cautiously walked over to the center. We still kept a wary eye on our surroundings though.

“There is an inscription,” Celestia noted while she looked at the pedestal itself.

“What does it say?” I asked. I was still busy staring at the ceiling. I could not tell if that darker patch of stone was something special or if that was a trick of the light. There were no scones in here, no torches. What light we had was the daylight that filtered in, both through the canopy of the jungle, and through the mound of the entrance. Which was probably why Celestia had lit her horn. Maybe it just looked darker? Or the stone had undergone some kind of change due to the plant matter on top of it? Maybe some kind of strange lichen was growing over that area and the stone only looked darker because of it.

The ceiling was most definitely too high up to just stretch a hoof and touch it.

“It says ‘truth’,” she answered.

Truth. Alright. Not exactly helpful. I shrugged and gave up on that ceiling spot. I instead turned my attention to the pedestal and stepped up to her side to take a look at it myself. The stone bowl on top was empty. But she was right, there was something carved into the stone pillar itself. Problem was: I was looking at the same patch she looked at right now and I did not read ‘truth’.

I read ‘ask’.

I furrowed my brow. Maybe some sort of enchantment. Most likely, actually. She saw something else than I did. It mattered little who saw what was truly there. Maybe there was nothing to begin with. The more relevant question was: Why was it there? Why was it letting us see two different words?

These places were meant as trials. To prove something. To prove worthy of a gift. Maybe it was about virtue? “Celestia, is it still afternoon?”

She looked in the direction of the entrance, just to make sure. “Yes.”

A little chime suddenly played. The sound of a very small, thin-walled bell. Just a single tinkle. But up there at the ceiling was now a key. Hanging suspended in mid-air, floating. It was barely even visible, translucent and with an only roughly defined shape. “Do you see that key up there?”

She turned her attention towards where I pointed and furrowed her brow. “I see it.”

And the key moved down. Less than half an inch. But it moved. My gaze dropped onto the stone bowl. Putting one and one together was easy at this point. I heard another tinkle from up above and when I looked, the key had risen back up to the ceiling. And a moment later, it was gone.

“What did you do?” she asked.

“I think I get it. See, you read ‘truth’ there. I don’t. There is something carved into the stone, yes. But for me, it says ‘ask’. You answered truthfully and the key appeared. You answered truthfully again and the key lowered down.” It was a simple task, in theory. Just ask a bunch of random questions. I highly suspected that asking if the sky was blue would not be allowed as an infinite loop. That would have been way too easy otherwise. And with the questions she had answered so far, the key had appeared and moved towards the bowl with such a tiny increment that it would take ages for us to get this done. Hours, at least. Late into the night, probably. But then again, I had only asked something quite mundane and obvious.

I wondered how this thing was weighing answers. If it did that at all. It obviously only waited for so long until the progress reverted. So once we were doing it, we should keep going until it was done.

Celestia had meanwhile put one and one together as well and now looked at the pedestal with immeasurable distaste. And I could understand why. She was a leader. A natural born politician. A diplomat. That did not necessarily mean that lying was her forte, but it did mean that rhetorical flourishes were important. That she had a knack for verbal duels. That language was a tool to her, one she could adapt and wield with talented finesse. Truth had no place for such fuzz, as Applejack had once put it so endearingly. Truth was plain, simple, without corners to cut.

I was willing to test my hypothesis. “Do you remember those earrings I gave you for your last birthday?” She had rarely ever worn them. I suspected I knew why, but at the same time, she had never told me. I had silently accepted what I believed to be true.

She gave a curt nod, with no indication of any emotional response. “I do.”

And yet, the key reappeared. Because it was an honest answer. “What did you think about them? Did you like them?”

Calm. Even. Measured. Not a single muscle twitched without her knowing about its intention and allowing for it to do so. She was at the pinnacle of her self-control. “Why do you ask?” she replied. “I told you already.”

She knew. She knew why I asked and I knew she knew. She was just unwilling to answer. “It’s okay. I know.”

She hesitated for a moment longer, before sighing quietly. “I do not like them. My mane sometimes gets stuck in them and they feel alien. I'm not used to wearing jewelry. But I did appreciate the thought and I did like their design.”

I had known, to a certain extent. Yet hearing it still hurt a little, despite my efforts to brace for it. And the reasons behind it baffled me. Honestly, I had never given it much thought. I had never really sat down and thought about why she might not have liked them. They had an intricate pattern. I had chosen them carefully, of course. They were meant to accentuate her beauty. Draw gazes to her eyes. But I had never seen her wear any other jewelry, ever. Maybe that should have been a clue.

All the while, the key lowered itself. Just by two inches or so, but that was a lot more than it had previously done, which seemed to confirm my suspicion. “It reacts to the nature of the question. Something superficial barely gets a rise out of it. Or a, uh, ‘lower’, I guess?”

She ignored the discovery, stepped closer to me and raised my chin. I had admittedly tried to avoid eye contact for a moment. To sort myself out.

“They are beautiful,” she insisted, “and I cherished the gesture as much as the thought you put into it. I just… do not like to wear them.”

I gave a defeated sigh, shook my head and smiled, even if it felt a bit queasy. “Don’t worry, it’s fine. I knew it wasn’t… ideal. You never wore them and I never asked. Not every gift can be a winner, right?” I hugged her. Just to make a point. It was a little bit of a downer right now, but I would get over it soon enough.

The key rose up to the ceiling again and vanished shortly after.

“Right, you’re going to love that next part,” I teased her and pulled back so that I could properly grin at her.

This time, she did not try to hide anything. She openly grimaced at the thought as she knew full well what the little discovery meant. “I do not understand why we cannot just switch places. You usually have little issue being honest.”

I shrugged. “Maybe that’s the point? Or it chose you because you went in first and whoever steps in first gets to answer.”

“Can… can we at least verify that?” she pleaded.

I shrugged with a smile. “Sure.” And we left the dome. “You know, if it actually changes, you have to come up with questions.”

“Surely we can think of some together?” Celestia objected.

Good point, actually. I nodded and after another minute or so, I turned around and walked back in with her following me. “Still says ‘ask’,” I announced. Celestia did not even say it. She just glanced at it, sighed and sat down beside the pedestal.

The next half hour or so, we tried to come up with questions. But I soon realized that Celestia was not really all that willing to participate in the manner the trial required. More than once, she insisted that while the key only lowered slightly, we might just as well try to get it down with mundane questions. A lot of them. And on her insistence, we tried to repeat questions, as that would have made our lives significantly easier. Of course it did not work.

A stray thought eventually barreled into my musings. We were on this adventure so I could make a present for Twilight. It was a really funny and really ridiculous thought. We were sitting in an ancient jungle ruin, puzzling over long-forgotten trials of a civilization long gone, so that I could make a nice Hearth’s Warming present. Heck, I almost died yesterday. But my mind focused less and less about how stupid all of this seemed to be and more on the reason itself.

It was all about Twilight.

When I raised my gaze again, I had a vague idea that quickly transformed into a plan. “Got it,” I announced.

“You got what, exactly?” she asked in slight bewilderment.

“The question. I think we’ll only need one.”

Maybe it was the certainty with which I spoke that concerned her. Or the wolfish grin I sported while doing so. Or the fact that a single question was supposedly enough, according to my estimation. “I am not going to like this one, am I?”

Despite my smile, I sighed a little. “No. I don’t think you will. But quite honestly, it’s about time anyway. I’ve seen you carry this baggage around for way too long. You keep telling me that you will talk to me about it eventually, but you never do. I know, I know. Six years isn’t all that much for you. And I try to be patient. But that’s hard to do when it is so obvious that this ‘burden’ you carry doesn’t even have to be a burden to begin with. So now’s as good a time as any. Out with it. Do you love Twilight?”

The more I explained, the less thrilled she was about the whole idea. And once the question was actually dropped in her lap, she almost recoiled from it. “I am not going to answer that!” She even raised her voice a little. Just the tiniest bit. But with somepony like Celestia, such miniscule changes were always noticeable. And quite effective.

But I knew her. And I was not about to be discouraged just by her usual defense. “And why not? And that’s an honest question, love. You know me. You probably know me better than I know myself. I would never, ever, do anything to harm you. Ever. Same goes for Twi. Don’t you trust me?”

I was not playing fair. Or nice. In every relationship, be it of a romantic nature or not, there were certain phrases and questions that held power. Many were ‘insiders’, only relevant to the couple in question. Others had universally accepted power, bestowed by societal and linguistic evolution. ‘Do you trust me’ was one such phrase. Despite being intoned like a question, it rarely was one. And in many situations where it was used, there was only one right answer.

Celestia was smart. I had no doubt that if she truly wanted to, she could wriggle her way out of this predicament. She could make me believe that not answering was for the better or something like that. She could. But so far, she had refrained from pulling my strings. Many things needed careful consideration. Many ponies needed an unseen hoof guiding them. But so far, she had abstained from manipulating me. Well, as far as I could tell anyway.

“And you promise not to tell a single soul?” she finally asked with a surprisingly meek voice.

I scooched closer and nestled against her side. “You know I can’t do that. But. You also know that you can trust me. Come on. Trust me. I got your back.”

She was silent for a while. She eventually exhaled slowly, drawn out. “Have you ever… talked to Twilight about Spike? About their relationship? And I mean really talked to her about it.”

It seemed like a strange tangent to me. But I knew that I sometimes needed a certain buildup before I could tackle uncomfortable topics. Maybe this was just a preamble. To make something obvious, to stress a point. “I… can’t say I have. I mean, yeah, I have talked about him on numerous occasions, but I don’t think that’s what you’re after.” I fell silent and thought about it. But before she could start, I continued. “That being said, I talked to Spike about it. In one instance for a couple of hours, late into the night.”

She nodded. “They share a… unique bond. One that is defined by many factors. Some of which are ever-changing and hard to predict. At times, he serves her like my aides serve me. Or maybe like a clerk. But he is more than just a servant, of course. She hatched him. She cared for him. And with a lot of help from her parents, her foalsitter, her brother, even me, she raised him. When she is dissatisfied with his behavior, she demonstrates a stern hoof and an authoritarian voice. And once he was reprimanded properly, she gives him the tender love only a mother could give. Not an hour later, they run along the hallways, squabbling and giggling like siblings. Because they are. He is as much her little brother as she is his older sister. I found them in the library at one point. She explained kissing to him. And I could see her struggle with her own identity. I could see the mother, the sister and the teacher vying for dominance. Because he is her student as well. And she is his caretaker. And sometimes, he is hers. Ordering her to bed. Making sure she eats and eats enough. They are a great many things to each other, and few of these can be easily broken down into one or two words. Their relationship is unique and does not fit into conventional definitions.”

Throughout her explanation, her eyes had taken on this familiar, nostalgic sheen. Her mind drifted from beloved memory to beloved memory. I now knew what she was getting at. And I saw no reason to disrupt her reminiscence with inept commentary. I just quickly glanced at the key. It was still there. It had appeared, but it had not moved at all. Yet.

“My relationship with Twilight… is equally unique. That sounds a lot more pompous than it is. But it will serve its purpose better than calling it ‘complicated’. Do I love her, you ask. Yes. Yes, with all my heart.” And the key lowered by almost a fifth of the distance in one go. “But as I tried to explain, it is more than that. What ails me is not if I love her, but what kind of love I harbor for her. Due to the book you two wrote, I had knowledge of her long before she showed up to her entrance exam. Back then, I felt respect for the mare that had written this book. And deep gratitude. Maybe even reverence to some degree. Her work had helped me through many tough times and guided me in many difficult battles. But that changed on this fateful day. Not a seasoned wizard, knowledgeable beyond her years was presented to me, but a filly. With eyes so big and full of wonder. And she adored me like a goddess. She was such a fragile little thing. So naïve. And full of curiosity. Eager to learn all about anything and everything. And in time, I came to love her. Few students I had ever accepted as my personal protégé at such an early age. I guided her as best as I could. Taught her. I tried to be careful not to intervene too much with her parents raising her. But there is only so much a mare of my age can do to resist the charms of a young filly. There were times, more than enough moments, when it felt like she was my own flesh and blood. She grew into a fine young mare and I was so endlessly proud of my faithful student. I still am. I still see that filly in her at times, tumbling over my tail while trying to get a better look at the book I am reading. I still see the wonder in her eyes when learning something new about a world that, with each passing year, has less surprises in store for her. But her ascension changed things. Considerably. My little Twilight was not all that little anymore. I tried for a time. To distance myself from those early days. I tried to cut loose the filly I had raised. But as much as a mother can never truly abandon her foal, I only hurt myself without any progress made. And she… she was this beautiful young mare, still so obsessed with my approval. Still so very much in need of my guidance. Still my faithful student. But she offered me something new. Something unexpected. She offered me her friendship. We were not equals. Not quite yet. And she struggled with all the consequences of her own offer. Something as simple as addressing me as Celestia and not using my title made her squirm for quite some time. But that faded eventually. She became more comfortable around me. Around me as her friend. And we shared in laughter and delighted in our exchanges of knowledge. I witnessed her grow over years and years and without me realizing it, she became my equal. There was no single event that led to this spark. No singular moment responsible for an avalanche of revelations. It slowly creeped up on me and just as slowly dawned. I felt so very comfortable around her. I sought her approval without depending on it. I wanted her to be happy above many other things. My heart quickened its pace whenever I saw her smile. And eventually, love bloomed into attraction. She is a very beautiful mare, after all. It is only natural, is it not? That is what I would like to tell myself. But the fact of the matter is… I raised her. And even to this day, I can see that little filly in her eyes, naïve and full of curiosity. The thought of kissing her crossed my mind, and the vision is both exhilarating and disturbing. A part of me is and will always be her surrogate mother. And that part recoils in horror when I think about her… when I imagine… that. And yet I must admit that another part yearns for her. I am content to see her happy. But I do worry if it will be enough. If these urges might force my hoof at some point. And I will freely admit that I fear losing her, and it matters little in which way or why.”

The key had been steadily sinking down, gaining matter and texture and color, losing its wispy, translucent shape and was now lying in the stone bowl, ready to be picked up. I was in no rush to do that though. I had noticed it dip up higher again at one point and one point only.

“You’re still lying to yourself,” I said and got straight to the point. “You are not content with watching. And I don’t need fancy jungle magic to know that. You’re good, you know? You keep everything bottled up. You wear your masks. And you wear them with such ease because you’ve been wearing them for ages. Literally. But honestly, I’m not sure why, or when. But at some point, you apparently decided that you don’t want to wear masks around me. Not all the time anyway. And I’ve seen things. I’ve seen you buckle under the weight at times. I’ve tried to be there for you as best as I can, but the fact of the matter is: There’s limits to what I can do for you. If you’ll excuse the rudeness, but: I can rut your brains out, and that’s always good fun. But distraction can only bring you so far. It’s a treatment for the symptoms, not the root issue. We — that is to say, both Luna and myself — have tried time and again to get you to open up about this. We can’t force you. Heck, we don’t want to force you. But we care about you. We love you. And we want to see you happy too. You’ve led into this with Twilight and Spike as an example. I told you I’ve spoken to Spike at length. I asked him, actually. If he could imagine himself with Twilight. He’s… he was very nonchalant about it. Said he had never considered it. And he gave it some thought, because I asked him to. I was just curious at the time. Now, though? Now I’m glad I did. He said he couldn’t imagine himself being with her. Because it wouldn't work out, according to him. There was no disgust. Not in his eyes, or his voice. For him, it was just a simple matter of incompatibility of personalities. That obviously doesn’t mean Twilight has the same point of view. Maybe she would be more on your wavelength, regarding Spike. I honestly can’t tell. All I want to say is: Don’t assume. It’s a mistake. One I tend to make a lot. And don’t close doors that could lead to your happiness just because you think that what is on the other side might not ‘belong to you’. We can’t force you and we won’t. But please, consider talking to her. You two are friends. Believe, love. Believe that your friendship is strong enough to endure a ‘no’, if one should come. And for better or worse, having an answer might help you out. Rejection hurts. But at least you can move on. These wounds will heal. And she will help you as best as she can to make them heal. And if she doesn’t reject you, well, that opens up a whole new batch of interesting options. I know that one of the main issues is your own attitude towards her. And honestly, I don’t really have an easy fix for this. But I know that things can change. Feelings certainly can. Your mother instincts and your less motherly feelings for her don’t have to be on bad terms with each other. Your own example actually shows that. Parents, siblings, student and teacher, caretakers. They freely switch between whatever they feel like, whatever the circumstances require. It comes natural for them, because they’ve been doing that for so long. You still have to grow into this new dynamic.”

I could see a war raging behind her beautiful eyes. A massive, earth-shattering conflict and much to my frustration, there was little else I could do. I had tried my darn best to talk some sense into her. And all I had managed was to get this inferno started. Maybe that would be enough. But having put her in this position and not being able to help her cope felt icky nonetheless.

“It is a strange thought, after all these years. ‘Having to grow into something.’ I am not sure when that happened last,” she softly spoke.

There was not much else I could say. And yet despite knowing this, I still could not keep my mouth shut. “I want you to be happy, love. As happy as you can be. And you keep denying yourself options. You leave them unexplored out of fear that something might go awry. But you can’t do that. You’re not allowed to. Because that’s my job.”

Her soft, quiet giggle briefly filled the room, before quickly ebbing away again. “Thank you.”

I smiled and finally picked up the key to levitate it over to my saddlebag. “Well, no problem. I obviously did all this only for the key, you know? And now we have it and we can go and you can pretend this never happened.” The very moment she raised an eyebrow and even faked considering it in earnest, I huffed. “Don’t you dare!”

“But it was your idea!” she teased with a smirk.

“So was talking to Twilight! I will snitch on you if you continue to be unreasonable!” I threatened in jest.

“You would not dare!” she replied with a gasp. “You said you would not!” Her pout was the most adorable thing ever.

I grinned lopsided. “Well, if you don’t make me, I won’t have to!”

We both defiantly held each other’s gaze for a couple of seconds before we broke out in giggles. It took us a minute or two to recompose ourselves before we checked our surroundings one last time. The chamber had not changed in the slightest, no traps had sprung, no trap doors opened. And we already got the key. Maybe some of these trials were… well, it felt wrong calling it ‘easier’. She would most likely have had a difficult time opening up about this to anypony else. Even Luna, I suspected. That was actually quite flattering.

“Sooo it’s still early afternoon, right?” I asked. “Despite feeling a bit drained, this didn’t exactly take all that long. Any ideas on what we do next? I don’t think it’s a good plan to go to the next structure, we should keep it to one per day, I think.”

Celestia mulled a couple of thoughts and ideas over before she ultimately shrugged. “I honestly would not mind returning to our morning activity. It would give me some more time to think.”

I was stumped on what ‘morning activities’ she referred to for a brief moment until I wound my memory back and replayed it in fast forward. We had spent most of our time in bed. I nodded enthusiastically, accompanied by a grin. “I’m all for it. Snuggle time is best time.”

A wave of warmth and light encompassed the two of us and we reappeared on the hill in front of our tent in an instant. There was no sign of change or any intruders, so we headed inside and discarded our saddlebags near the entrance. “Since we’re capable of learning from prior experiences,” I started with a snicker, “I’d say: Snack first, since we skipped lunch. Then we’ll take a nice, cozy bath. You can have some thinking time there. And then we head back down here and make ourselves comfortable. You can have all the thinking time you need, and I… I can appreciate you being here with me.”

“You meant to say: You are going to stare at my flank the entire time,” she accused me with a grin.

“Well, it is quite a shapely rump, how am I not supposed to love it?” I shot back with a smirk.

While I fetched the bag of Allfood from our saddlebags again, she made her way over to the bed. And I could already see how she walked over there, tantalizingly swinging her hip a little more than usual, with her tail occasionally lifted just the tiniest bit. What a tease. I joined her shortly after without commenting on it, but in the privacy of my mind, I indulged a little in the imagination that maybe, we would not just snuggle the entire time.

For now though, we had our little snack. “You know, this stuff isn’t half bad,” I once again noted. “I was thinking about that earlier and wondered if that is because of Luna, or because the castle kitchen is just that damn good.”

“Why not both?” she replied with a smile and nibbled away at her slice. “You could easily test this, of course. Give the recipe to Twilight and see what she does with it. Or Spike. Or Applejack.”

“She would appreciate that apples are part of the recipe, I’m sure,” I replied with a chuckle.

The rest of the day petered out without much fanfare. A little bit of banter while eating helped to recenter ourselves and she was quiet while we took our bath. Once we made it to bed again, I occasionally dozed off. It was a comfortable silence. We enjoyed each other’s company and I liked to think that my presence helped her stay calm while she sorted through her emotional mess. I had hoped that maybe she would have some questions. Some remarks. Anything that would allow me to help her. But she kept quiet and dealt with it herself. We ate another slice or two in the evening and eventually fell asleep, holding each other in a tight embrace once more.