Dreamwalker's Tale: Project Greenwood

I looked up and saw the sun setting. The sight filled me with a mixture of relief and frustration. I was done with work for today — yay. Go me. But on the other hoof, I had not managed to make as much progress as I would have liked. Adding to that, I had forgotten about Dawn and my shared reading time. Again. For the third time in a row.

I sighed and shook my head. He understood, I was sure. He did not seem to be the type to hold a grudge. Too much of a hassle. So I watched the forge’s glow dim down. I made sure it was cooled off enough so that no sparks and embers would go flying around. It would not do, burning down the village myself out of sheer negligence.

With the smithy secured and closed, I looked at the crate. I tried to feel any sense of pride. Doorknobs and hinges, screws and bars, dozens upon dozens of small metal pieces, used all around Greenwood for various tasks. My work was helpful, I tried to tell myself. I should be proud.

But all I could see was the crate being less than full. Not enough.

I caught myself thinking about heating the forge up again. Working late into the night. And with a grimace, I violently shook my head. “No, no, no, nope. Not gonna do that,” I insisted. I closed the door, locked it and took a couple of steps back. It was fine. This was fine. I would work harder. Tomorrow. And Dawn? Dawn would understand.

He will cheer. Probably does so even now, an unwelcome voice in the back of my head commented.

Be quiet, you.

I sighed. It sounded incredibly tired and now that I heard just how exhausted I sounded, I actually started to feel it as well. I looked around to see how the others were doing. No signs of Hefty or Honey, of Derpy or Roseluck, Gabby, none of the others. I heard the commotion from the ‘tavern’. Inn, I quickly corrected myself. Or what we currently used and labeled as such until Aurora and Periwinkle figured out a way to make the latter’s dream building come true. Most of the village was in there. Including Spike it seemed, as even he was nowhere else to be seen. I had overdone it. Again.

I was not exactly used to ‘working late hours’. My work was done while sleeping. And that thought stirred a new impulse to life. I felt beat. Completely spent and just… done. “I’m working too much,” I realized. “I’m burying myself in work.” It was a problem. One I should face and work on.

Tomorrow.

I turned around and walked towards the river nearby. It was just outside town. The shore was shallow, I could walk right up to the water. I could have easily walked into it, but I hesitated. I knew it would be freezing. After a quick consultation with myself, I noted how sluggish I felt. Every move, every thought. Like molasses. Maybe the water would help.

I stepped into the river, up to the point where it drowned my fetlocks. It was cold, sure. But other than that? Nothing. “Fine, have it your way,” I grumbled and spread my front hooves wider. And after a brief moment of hesitation, I dunked my head in.

A sudden chill ran down my body as the cold seeped in, numbed my skin and made me want to retreat in haste. However, I firmly planted my hooves in the riverbed, dug down a little further and willed myself to stay. I had no intention of drowning myself, but I did come to realize that the water — or the cold, more precisely — had its benefits.

My hazy thoughts cleared. All the anguish, all the worries, everything was washed away. The excess heat was sapped from my head, and with it went all the turmoil. For a precious few seconds, I felt… at peace.

Then came the need to breathe.

I slowly exhaled under water, but it could prolong my position only for so long until I had to come up for air. I raised my head again, my soaked mane flung through the air and smacked against my neck like an ice-cold whip. And for just a second, that made me snicker. I could not even properly tell why.

“Phew.” I shook my head and noted how wide awake I felt. Ready to tackle some stuff. “Thanks, river.” I really should look up at some point if this river had a name. It had become a routine that I would talk to it. If I kept that up, I should probably learn how to address it properly.

I returned home. By the time I reached the door of our house, most of the effect the water had was gone. While I did not feel as sluggish as before, I still caught myself yawning. And I moved through the village on autopilot, not really seeing what my eyes perceived, not really hearing what my ears caught.

I grimaced, but dismissed any and all concerns that immediately sprang to mind. “I’m fine,” I spat, despite knowing the contrary. I entered our house and listened. No signs of life from anywhere. Aurora was probably over at Periwinkle’s, having a blast with the others. “It’s fine.” That sounded a lot more pathetic than I would have liked. With yet another grimace, I closed the door and went upstairs to my room. It was time to hit the hay and go patrolling the dreamscape. Maybe Luna would manage to take my mind off of things.

“You. Look. Breathtaking,” I mumbled as I stared at her.

Luna giggled like a filly. She even pranced in place, just for emphasis. “Thou art fartuous!”

I snorted. Not the most dignified sound I ever made, but I couldn't help it. Sometimes, when she lapsed back into old habits of hers, the results were comedic. “I’m a fart. Right. And here I thought you were older.”

She stopped prancing and regarded me with a slowly raised eyebrow. And more importantly, she somehow effortlessly slipped into her regal aura, exuding this feeling of superiority. It always baffled me how she did that at all, not to mention at such speed. “Do not start wars you are bound to lose,” she warned me.

I chuckled and shook my head. “Don’t worry, I don’t intend to. Still, the compliment stands.”

Her expression softened again and she walked over to my side. A wing laid itself across my back, its soft, feathery embrace more than welcome, and she nuzzled me. The feeling was heavenly. I leaned into her, closed my eyes and sighed as I relaxed. For the first time in weeks, it felt like. Even though I knew that was not true.

“How can I look breathtaking when I am not even wearing my armor?” she purred into my ear.

I felt the heat creep up to my cheeks and my muzzle. She always knew which buttons to press. But I was done complaining about how unfair this was. I had been done with that many, many years ago. I simply cherished how well she knew me. It probably was not exactly hard, I was as easily read as any open book. Still. She made the effort. “Your armor makes you look hot,” I replied with a voice meeker than I would have liked. “But without it, you look beautiful.”

She snickered. “Is that so? I have to wonder then where ‘breathtaking’ falls in between those.” She lifted her wing from my back and took a single step off to the side. I knew what it meant and I was willing to comply, even though I missed her presence immediately. Following her silent ‘shall we?’, I manifested my armor and sword and she conjured her own armor onto her body.

And I still fell for that decades old trick. She put on piece by piece, slower than was necessary. She made a show out of it. And I realized that only after she was done and looked at me with a sultry gaze that melted right through my heart and into my loins. As I swallowed dryly, she laughed in amusement. I did not mind. I got to watch her get dressed. Totally worth it.

“Let’s start,” I pressed and walked forward. Luna quickly fell in line and kept pace beside me. And for a while, everything seemed fine. We patrolled the dreamscape, walked between the many lazily swirling, dancing dream spheres and no nightmares showed up. No dreamscape creatures eager for a fight. It was… peaceful.

And that irked me.

It left me with too much time. To think and worry and start the whole ordeal all over again. Was it not enough that my days were spent like this? Could not even Luna's pretty night offer any relief? Please?

“There is a matter I wanted to speak to you about,” Luna started. I nodded eagerly, probably a bit too eagerly, without missing a step. “It appears that we had a visitor last night. My guards notified me of an intruder. Apparently someone tried to sneak into my personal library.”

I knew the layout of Canterlot castle by heart. Her library was down the hallway from her bedroom, left turn, first door on the right. Not far away from her chambers. But an intruder at night would not find her in her chambers anyway, since she held Night Court at that time. “How did they notice?” I inquired.

There was a playful glint in her eyes when her smile grew crooked. “Ever since Chrysalis’ invasion and the shenanigans of too many ambitious unicorns, I developed a couple of alarm spells in cooperation with Twilight. They detect mobile illusion and transmutation spells.”

I smiled. It was a serious topic, I knew that, but Luna did not seem disturbed or alarmed or in dire need of protection. My kitten had claws, she was perfectly capable of protecting herself. No, what made me smile was that image in my mind of her and Twilight sitting down in the library, surrounded by towers of books. Maybe with a saucer and a cup of hot chocolate. The fireplace was lit, opened inkwells offered their unique scent, and occasionally a quill would scratch over parchment. It was a peaceful image. Harmonious. Filled with warmth and love and tenderness. And nerdy arcane babble, as was only befitting those two.

Aaand I almost got lost in it. I blinked when I realized that my mind started to project and the dreamscape reformed to adapt the images in my head. “Sorry, got distracted,” I quickly replied and turned back towards the topic at hoof. “So they went off because somepony was sneaking around using means to disguise themselves,” I offered my understanding of the situation.

“We believe so, yes,” Luna replied. “The guard did a full and thorough search of the castle and the premises with no result. I accompanied them on a second round after they informed me, but to no avail. Our guest was quite an elusive one.”

My shoulders sagged a little as I realized in which direction this was going. “You suspect Dawn?”

I felt her primaries trail over my back in an attempt to comfort me. “I have considered it an option, yes, albeit not the only one. Whoever — or whatever — it was, our guest was very careful not to leave tracks or traces.”

I sighed and grimaced. “Well, he does tend to be cautious and meticulous.” I looked up to her, tried to read her expression. But I saw no ill will, no urgency. “Do you want me to bring it up with him? Shall I press the point in a conversation?”

Luna shook her head. “No. I merely wished to ‘keep you in the loop’, as they say.” Despite her words, she stopped and so did I shortly after. I turned to her and was about to ask what was wrong when I noticed her intently staring at me. Her gaze trailed up and down my body, and I felt strangely naked. It was not her smoldering ‘what a delectable treat’-gaze, but rather a neutral stare, searching, studying, taking stock. “You look exhausted,” came her final verdict.

To distract myself from the slight discomfort of being in the spotlight, I looked around. But this was the dreamscape. On a very calm night. The endless, starry void stretched in all directions, filled with the soap bubbles of dreamers. I searched for any signs of problems. For any dreamscape creatures sneaking in between the dreams to hide from our sight, maybe in an attempt to prepare an ambush. I searched for signs of nightmares tormenting sleeping creatures. But everything was fine. Everything was in order.

When her words reached my ears, I turned my attention back to her and flinched. Her stare had become more intense. “Uhm…”

She ignored my lack of eloquence. “Are you alright?”

Should’ve been faster.

I dreaded this question. The answer was never easy. And rarely a ‘yes’. Of course, ever since I had started project Greenwood, everything went downhill. It had been inevitable from day one. Greenwood always faced trials and tribulations. In some cycles, we spent literal years battling hordes of timberwolves. We paid for the existence of Greenwood with blood and lives. In other cycles, things went peacefully for the most part, until all the required drama and resistance came crashing down in one massive, earth-shattering event.

And this time? This time we had Dawn and whatever he was planning. This time Tirek showed up out of nowhere and I had blood on my hooves that I just could not wash off, no matter how hard I scraped. This time we had a tatzlwurm ‘visit’ us. And apparently there were hostile ponies in the forest. Somepony had woken up Peter. As it turned out, tatzlwurms had terrible eyesight. All he could tell us about this unknown stranger was that he was quick, strong and heavy.

It should have been funny how quickly both Honey and Hefty reassured us that they had not been walking around the forest to wake up random monsters to lead them to us.

I looked at Luna. My fierce kitten had such a soft, warm smile on her inviting lips. “Well, I mean, it’s been a couple of busy days. You already know that. Lots to do. And everypony got a really good scare from Peter's arrival. But it’s fine now, I think. They calmed down and Whisper made a new friend who helps us protect the village and everypony celebrated Periwinkle as the new hero of Greenwood. We had a proper welcoming party, Pinkie would have been proud. And she brought gifts along. Periwinkle, that is. Pinkie wasn’t there, I think. Half the town has stuffed toys now, almost made me suspect she had robbed a fair on her way over.” I smiled wryly and chuckled awkwardly.

Luna stepped closer and, dismissing one of her armor-plated horseshoes, put her hoof on my shoulder. “I asked if you are alright.”

I hesitated. I could try to worm my way out of her question again. And again and again and again. It would not change anything, though. I knew that. It would only test her patience. Which she usually struggled with. So relying on her weak spots to get out of an uncomfortable situation, that was a low blow. A tactic I did not wish to employ. “I—… I’ve been better,” I admitted. “I know you wanted me to visit Doctor what’s-his-name.”

“It was an offer,” she interjected. “A suggestion at best.”

“Offer or not, you wanted me to accept it,” I insisted. Because I knew she did. “And you’re not alone. Twilight had an intimidating number of names to throw my direction. Celestia suggested her royal physician. I’m…” I struggled to find the right words. It was a frightening prospect. To sit in an unfamiliar room with an unfamiliar face. And the silent expectation was that I would talk. To them. To tell them my dirty laundry. All my secrets and what bothered me. To tell them of all my thoughts and worries and concerns. I was supposed to lay bare who I was, what I was, how I thought. To a total stranger. On the basis that surely, hopefully, their aim was to actually help me. And I was not just supposed to trust his stranger, I was supposed to work together with them to find a way to… to what? ‘Heal’ me? Help me?

How does one ‘heal’ having killed?

Tirek was dead. Maybe Sunny could have brought him back if she had been there quickly enough. But she was not. And now he was gone. There was still a point to be made about how the world might be better off without him. And in the back of my head, it worked. This discussion was a minefield, an active battlefield, and I fought on both sides. It was exhausting. And painful. And how could I sit in a strange room filled with unknown bric-a-brac and tell this strange pony about that?

For decades I had struggled with trust issues. With my self-esteem, self-worth. With my paranoia and lingering doubts. With my skewed sense of reality. But in between all these problems, this sea of madness, there was a guiding light. A lifeline. I had friends and family, loved ones, children who depended on me, a job where I was of actual use. It kept me stable. In check. Sane.

“I don’t need a shrink,” I spat. And the moment I heard my own voice, the aggression in it, I flinched. “Sorry.” I shook my head, avoided her gaze and stared at my own hooves. I had a sinking feeling in my stomach where this conversation would lead from here on out. And I needed to change that direction somehow. “Void helped me deal with that nonsense,” I blurted out. “B-But now with the tatzlwurm and everything, I think I just, uhm… I think I’m just shaken, Luna. I’m fine. Just shaken.”

She was quiet. Stayed so for a long while, it felt like. I made several attempts to raise my head, to look her in the eyes, but every time I failed at the last hurdle. On a rational level, I knew that I was wrong. She was not disappointed. There was no gosh-darn pity in her eyes. She would not look at me like this broken thing that needed to be discarded. She would not berate me for the way I thought. Luna loved me. And I loved her. She knew I had issues. But for goodness sake, who didn’t? Every single pony, maybe even every single living creature, started life whole and healthy and undamaged. But with each passing year, with each experience we endured, for better or worse, we changed. And more often than not, we got damaged. Wounds heal, sure. But the saying never mentioned the scars they left behind.

And to make everything more ridiculous, I could not even remember where I had gotten mine from. Because I just plopped into existence, pre-damaged from years lived before I could remember. It just wasn’t fair.

And I continued that unfairness by expecting to find all those things in Luna's eyes. The judgment, the pity, the realization that I might be too broken to be in a relationship with. It was not there. Nothing of that was there. But I could not raise my head, I could not look her in the eyes and make sure. Because despite how small and quiet it seemed, there was a mighty voice in my head whispering:

But what if…?

I swallowed dryly.

“You could always take a break, you know?” Luna offered a simple way out.

And no matter what her intentions might have been, that was exactly what it was. A simple way out. To return home. To return to well-established routines. To return to my normal life. The one I built for myself and my loved ones. To return to normalcy and familiarity.

I shook my head. “I know. But it doesn’t feel right just yet. I fear that if I retreat now, I might not return there.”

Luna sat down on her haunches. Right in front of me. She cupped my chin with her hoof and forced my gaze to meet hers. And with that alicorn strength of hers, she had an easy time overcoming the resistance I put up. It was a relief. It really was. I adored those beautiful cyan eyes of hers. I wished to stare into them forever. They were cool and calming like the night sky. And more importantly, there was no pity in them, no regret, no anger or disappointment. Just love.

“I know you better,” she claimed. “You would not let them fend for themselves.”

There was such conviction in her words. As if all the confidence I lacked was tripled in her voice. It was hard to respond to that at all. Even more so in any doubtful manner. “Maybe,” I squeaked out.

A warm smile bloomed on her lips. I wished to kiss her so badly, but I resisted the temptation. She was currently spending time with Twilight. And the rules of our arrangement were clear. Maybe she noticed my stare. She did always have an easy time reading me. She leaned down and placed a faint hint of a kiss on my cheek. “Well in any case,” she restarted the conversation with a jovial tone. A sudden shift. “It is good that I have prepared a little gift for you then.”

I blinked. There was unbridled mischief in her eyes. “What.” I could not even frame it as a question. Was she pulling a prank?

“Time to wake up, firecracker. Enjoy your day,” she replied and winked at me.

I blinked again. And looked around. And somehow, somehow, only now noticed that strange glint on the dream spheres around us. How the dreamscape itself had a subtle wobble to it. I grimaced. “You tricked me!” I accused her. It made no sense otherwise. We had not been on patrol for that long. Certainly not for an entire night. The only way this made any sense was if I was dreaming. Actually dreaming. And if any creature had the power to make a dreamwalker fall asleep and seamlessly move him into a lucid dream, it was her. “You tricked me into dreaming, didn’t you?”

We had talked about the possibility of this. I had been of the opinion that it would be impossible to not notice the change. Yet here I stood as my ‘dreamscape’ dissolved. I stared at her and in turn, Luna smirked back at me. I could not decide if I wanted to be furious with her, or proud.

In the end, the decision was easily made. “I can’t even be mad about this,” I mumbled.

“I love you, firecracker.”

My heart swelled from hearing that. The darkness ate everything around us, I would wake up any second now, but I could not stop smiling, I could not stop staring at her. “I love yo—“

“—u too,” I mumbled as I slowly woke up.

A fine tuft of hair tickled my nose, so I wrinkled my muzzle. And not a second later, I heard a familiar giggle. Just hearing her voice made me smile from ear to ear, made me inhale in a sudden, deeply felt tranquility. I welcomed the scent of ink and parchment, of dusty old books and lovingly cared for wood, sprinkled with a hint of a flowery shampoo.

I finally opened my eyes and found Twilight in my bed.

I was still lying on my side, curled into fetal position, but my blanket was gone. I must have kicked it down to the lower end of the bed again, as I did the prior days. Yet the coldness of the room's air did not dare touch me. Her wing extended over me, covered me, replaced the security my blanket was supposed to give. My forehead was inches away from touching her chest. So I followed the first impulse that came to mind and reduced that distance to zero. I nuzzled her. And breathed in deeply. And with each passing second, I felt a heavy weight bear down on me further.

She was here. But why? How?

I was so grateful for her presence, but I did not understand how this came to be. I failed to comprehend, to connect the dots between this surprise and Luna's last words. Yet I still felt the burning need to know. I uncurled myself, which already took great willpower, and I looked at her. She gazed back at me, waiting for the direction I would take with this situation.

“Hi,” I croaked with a crooked smile. And I could feel my lips tremble more and more as my eyes teared up without my permission.

“Hey,” she replied softly, quietly. My mind was a chaotic mess. I could not make heads or tails of this. Any of this. But I knew what I wanted, and I wanted it badly. I cautiously stretched my hooves out, and she welcomed me. So I hugged her. Clung to her for dear life. Squeezed every bit of comfort out of her as uncomfortably hot tears silently streamed down my face.

And she just held me. Wrapped in her hooves and her wings, we lay there and she simply held me.

“You are incorrigible,” she softly chided, her voice filled with nothing but warmth. “You feel spread too thin again, do you not?” But instead of waiting for an answer that we both knew would not come for a long while yet, she continued. “You have taken on so many responsibilities here. You even try to shoulder burdens meant to be carried by others. There are a lot of ponies out there, outside of this house, right now, working towards fulfilling your goals — and theirs. Yet you are afraid to ask, afraid to depend on them, to rely on them. Because what if. What if they do it wrong? What if all this fails? What if you could have prevented that? And it wears you down. This need to make sure that everything is in order. To check and double-check. To minimize every risk, to consider every possible risk and threat. Each day, you feel like you barely scraped by. You feel like you are running on fumes alone. All the time. But in some moments, you suddenly grow so incredibly self-aware and you feel like you cannot even breathe properly anymore. There is just this massive weight on your chest, choking the air out of you. You wonder how you managed to even get this far, since it always seems like you are just one single, misguided sentence away from falling apart. You loathe how you have become this minefield for others, with them completely unaware. But in every conversation, in every interaction, you mentally flinch when they speak, when they gesture, when their body language changes. Because what if. What if they mention this thing now, or refer to that thing, or express doubt or worry or frustration? You cannot bring yourself to not care. And here you are, willing to support each and every one of them. Always willing to lend a helping hoof. Intent, driven, to make things better for everypony around you.” She fell quiet for just a brief moment. And in that moment, I could hear the silence loom over me. I could feel that weight crush me. “Did I hit the nail on the head?” she asked.

A strangled sob escaped my throat despite my best efforts. I nodded. What else was I supposed to do at this point? I barely held on, clung to what little of my self-control remained.

“You are a supporter by nature, Dream,” Twilight continued and nuzzled my mane. “Yet you fail to look after yourself. Because you do not deem yourself worthy of care. Worthy of having your needs fulfilled. So… this responsibility falls to us. Me, in this instance. To look after my spouse and take care of you.”

I tried to swallow and even that felt strangely difficult. I squeezed her a little more. She was an alicorn. She could take it. And I attempted to crawl further into her as I pressed our bodies together. As if I could just meld into her and vanish.

Yet despite the desperation, something in her words resonated with me. There was a strange familiarity in them. As if I had—

“You read that in a book, didn’t you?” I asked, my meek voice so strangely mangled and quiet.

Her hoof trailed over my back, followed the waves of every shudder. She giggled softly. “Maybe? Even so, it does not change the truth.”

I tried to nod, but I could not bring myself to do it. I could not force myself to feign acknowledgement. I was fine, after all. Was I not?

She put distance between us. Pushed me off. Just a little bit. And similar to how Luna had done earlier, Twilight forced my chin up, forced me to confront her. Nothing but love. She cared. She worried. I wanted to apologize so badly, but I did not trust my voice anymore, did not trust that the first thing out of my mouth would not be just another sob. My vision was blurry, my eyes probably bloodshot, a damp patch had formed on her coat and I just, I could not, I just—

“It is alright,” she spoke. Softly. Quietly. “You are alright.” My throat grew tighter and my vision became even blurrier, somehow. “Let go.”

It was pathetic — or so a voice in my head claimed. As if I had waited to hear that. As if I had needed permission to feel something. And suddenly the floodgates sprang open and I was wholly drowned in pain and desperation and fear. Good old-fashioned fear, my long-time companion in this carousel of misery.

At that moment, as I broke down completely and wailed like a foal, I really, really wished Tirek had never been born.

It was hard to tell how much time had passed. Could have been mere minutes, could have been a couple of hours. I found it especially hard to tell — or care.

My tears had dried. I occasionally rubbed over my puffy eyes. My sobs had died down and my throat was hoarse, but free. I could breathe, I could probably talk if I wanted to and the tremors had stopped. It took effort to deal with the inevitable self-deprecation that followed. I was allowed to feel. I was allowed to show feelings. I was allowed to cry if I felt like it. It was necessary sometimes. I was allowed to seek comfort for myself. It was not a one-way street. I was allowed to receive aid and help and hugs and whatever else I might have needed. I did not have to be strong all the time. Heck, I did not have to be strong, period. Out of the three loves of my life, Twilight was probably the physically weakest — and she could crush stones barehoof.

But of course, that was not the kind of strength that I demanded of myself. Being physically as capable, as strong, as enduring as any of them was out of the question, had been from day one. And they continuously reassured me that yes, maybe I was asking too much of myself when it came to other forms of strength. They did not require it from me. I was the only one laying out such ridiculous standards. And I was the only one I held to those standards, too. I was the one setting myself up to fail. A self-perpetuating cycle of frustration and fear and ultimately, madness.

“You are brooding again,” Twilight cut in.

I looked up, caught, and blushed. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she quickly objected. “Feeling better?”

The impulse was there. To just say: I’m fine. But I took a moment, bit the immediate answer back and listened into myself. After all this, after what she put up with, she deserved honesty. Also, Applejack would know otherwise, somehow, and I could spare myself a stern talking to. “A little,” I therefore answered.

Twilight smiled in contentment. “Good.”

I remembered that. Little steps, they used to say. Little steps every day, already makes three hundred and sixty a year. Which is a lot of steps. I sighed and cuddled up to her. “Thank you.”

Early midday. My sense of time was completely out of whack. My conversation with Luna felt like weeks ago, and my emotionally tumultuous morning felt like an entire day. But when we finally actually got up to do stuff, I quickly glanced out the window to check on my love’s sun and it was… early midday.

What the hay.

We disentangled ourselves from each other and made our way down the staircase. Aurora was out, it seemed. We did not hear her anywhere and certainly did not find her in the kitchen, our current destination. Upon arrival, Twilight quickly opened up several cabinets and drawers to make herself more familiar with the layout, only to realize that our furnishings were still a little… basic. Not to mention we lacked many of the utensils and tools Spike presented with pride whenever someone asked for a tour of the castle kitchen. Something that happened surprisingly often.

“That will not be an issue,” Twilight assured me with a manic grin. “Not for long, anyway.”

Knowing my peanut quite well, I braced for the inevitable teleport and closed my eyes. And indeed, a bright raspberry flash and a popping noise later, she was gone. Only to reappear a couple of minutes later with what appeared to be half the kitchen from our home.

“Overkill much?” I teased with a smile.

“Well, do you know what we need?” she shot back.

“No,” I admitted. “But that’s mostly because you haven’t told me yet what we’re even going to do.”

Twilight was already busy sorting several stacks of ingredients, bowls and platters. “Breakfast.”

“Well, duh,” I replied and chuckled. “Figured as much. You know, with us in the kitchen.”

Two glasses levitated over to me. Cherries and strawberries. I grinned from ear to ear. “Waffles!” she triumphantly exclaimed. With our favorite toppings.

I laughed as she put on a bit of flair. Twilight was no Trixie, never would be. But every time she tried to make a show out of something, she was just so… so incredibly… adorkable. “I love you,” I murmured and stole a quick kiss from her as I started to busy myself with what I did best.

I was a supporter by nature. She said so herself. I helped.

I try, it echoed in my head. It’s what I do. I try a lot.

“Am I right to assume there is a plan, then?” I asked as we worked side by side to get the batter ready. She caught all the ingredients in the right amounts, I mixed the ingredients in the bowl. It was a good division of labor.

Twilight grinned. “There is always a plan.” She dumped the last ingredients in and watched me do my thing with the whisk. “I asked Spike to take care of your administrative business for today.”

Administrative business. The term made me chuckle. Which, judging by her satisfied smile, had been the intention all along. It made me sound so important. Which really did feel strange and undeserved. Still, it was funny to say and hear. “Well, he is a great assistant, isn’t he?”

“Number one,” Twilight added.

“Also very brave,” I continued.

“And so glorious,” she finished. We both giggled. I did make a mental note though to come up with an idea how to properly thank him for today. I was unsure if his taking over for me did anything to his day and schedule, seeing as I usually had nothing much to do to begin with aside from smithing, which was certainly not part of the ‘administrative business’-side of things. But still, it was nice of him.

I blinked in confusion as Twilight's hoof booped my nose. “Huh?”

She giggled. “Gotcha. You were distracted. Lost in thought?”

“Oh, right, sorry.” I hooved over the bowl of mixed ingredients. Time for the next steps. While Twilight was busy with that, I prepared the plates, set out some saucers, made first preparations for somepony more competent than me to make tea, then remembered Twilight's preferences and tried to prepare for coffee instead.

“I want you to focus on yourself,” Twilight meanwhile spoke up. “Or in lieu of that, let me focus on you.”

I looked out the window towards the small makeshift forge they had erected for me. I had spent most of my last days there, toiling away for the village. “So I take it I’m not going to make much progress with my smithing today, am I?”

She smiled and shook her head. “No. After we are done with breakfast, you will come back upstairs with me and I will massage you. That is non-negotiable.“

I nodded in thought, only half-listening. If Twilight was here, that meant that either nopony was in Ponyville to keep things straight and in order over there, or that she found a replacement. Quickly. Or maybe this was planned for quite some time? It was hard to tell. “What about your own—“ I yelped as the kitchen towel suddenly spanked my flank. Made me jump out of my skin for a second. And I stared, wide-eyed, at a smirking Twilight.

When. How. What.

“You’re learning too much from Luna,” I mumbled, with my entire face burning.

“And you,” she replied while walking over. Once in front of me, she placed a kiss on my nose. “You think too much.”

I chuckled. “Oh look, and here’s my adorkable pot calling the numbskull kettle black!”

She grinned, turned around and flicked her tail across my muzzle. What a tease. “We are both awful when it comes to overthinking. It is only natural that we help each other out,” she explained while she returned to the kitchen counter.

She was in a good mood. Bright and chipper and apparently flirty, too. It was hard to brood and stay moody with such good company. And the prospect of a good massage was enticing. So I gave in and sighed. “Fiiine.” I chuckled and followed her to finish up with preparations. “I think I might be able to live with that.” Barely.

The massage had to wait a while. We quickly cleaned up after breakfast, because if done together, even something like cleaning could be fun. After that, we retreated back upstairs, but we both just flopped down onto my bed and cuddled together. We silently agreed that an early-afternoon nap was not the worst thing to have and I simply reveled in having her here, close to me, next to me. I closed my eyes, dozed a little every now and then, and in between I had the pleasure of my other senses being heightened. I could feel the warmth her body radiated. I could hear her soft and rhythmic breathing as it lulled me into another round of shallow slumber. Her coat on mine, the occasional rustle of her wings.

These were the moments when I felt closest to Fluttershy in spirit. Because this, this was… nice. And in these moments, I was convinced that I fully understood what Fluttershy meant when she said that.

Twilight was the one who ultimately decided that we had enough of a nap and that we apparently should not loll around all day. She angled her wing and poked my barrel and wordlessly maneuvered me around until I was lying on my belly, with all legs stretched out.

I heard a bottle open and while I suspected some sort of massage oil or lotion, I had to wonder where it came from. Bed aside, I still had no furniture in my room. But neither had I heard the telltale pop of teleportation. Had she stashed away stuff under the bed before she climbed in?

It was hard to focus on those thoughts as she applied the surprisingly skin-warm massage oil and started to work out those muscles. “It’s funny, you know,” I mumbled while I relaxed more and more. “I distinctly remember a time before I dared to go to the spa, before I learned to massage others and before I ever got one myself.”

“That sounds like a very old story,” she teased with a grin.

I had my eyes closed, but I could hear her grin. Still, she was intrigued as well and that was enough of an invitation for me to continue. “I had heard too many good things about it. ‘Oh, it’ll make ya feel like a pig in mud’, ‘you will relax so easily’, ‘it’s simply divine, darling!’, ‘you don’t even know all the kinks in your system until somepony with capable hooves straightens them out!’ It seemed promising. I really wanted to get into that, I wanted to be able to give that to others. And even more impressive, I even wanted that for myself. So, so badly. But I was a chicken. It took me ages to research where one could have a massage. Were there massage parlors? Did we have one in Ponyville? Stop giggling! I wasn’t exactly familiar with the concept of a ‘spa’, I had no idea what that was and what they offered there.”

“What did you think they offered?” Twilight inquired in amusement.

I shrugged as she slowly made her way to my shoulders. “I don’t know. I never gave it much thought. Anyway. So I figured out: Okay, spa is where it’s at. And it should have been easy from that point forward. But it was so ridiculous. I was being ridiculous. I went to the spa and stood out front. As if waiting for somepony to ask me inside. And strangely enough, a couple of times that actually happened. And I fled. Every time. I just… I can’t even tell you what I was afraid of. Until summer, when they decided to leave the door open. It was like this… like this barrier they had taken down. Instead of lingering outside in the brutal heat — and you know me and heat, we mix sooo well —, I went inside. One step closer, yay. Aloe and Lotus had the patience of saints, I tell you. Eventually, they told me what they offered. And they quickly learned that I understood none of that. What even is a full-body massage? Does that include your horn? And mane? And, uh, private parts? How does one massage a horn, exactly? Would I be led into a different room? Would I lie down on the floor? Or on a bed? Don’t they use oils? Wouldn’t that spoil the sheets? Or would I lie down on a table? Wouldn’t it feel weird? To lie on a table? And I had seen guests of the facilities walk around in these white robes. Would I get one? Would I need one? What for? Would I need to disrobe in front of whoever was supposed to massage me?”

Twilight giggled again. Of course she did. On one hoof, she probably recognized some of this behavior from herself. While she never had this specific issue, she easily could have been in this situation. And on the other hoof, it once again showed a problem we both shared: Overthinking stuff.

“So, what did you do?” she asked.

“I? Panicking, fretting, the usual,” I replied nonchalantly. “Rarity took pity on me. Maybe they told her about things, I don’t know. She booked a massage for me. Basically forced my hoof in the matter. Because she wasn’t even there, I couldn’t complain or make her go back on her word or anything. It would have been wasted bits, which… is exactly the kind of thing one can easily use to rope me into just about anything.”

“She is sly like that, yes,” Twilight fondly acknowledged. “And did you enjoy it?”

“Hm. Bit of a mixed bag,” I admitted. “It hurt. Like, oh sweet Celestia, did that first time hurt. They told me I was one of the worst customers they ever had. Not due to my behavior or anything, they told me I was as well-behaved as a lamb. But I was tense and wound up like a coil. I was so embarrassed. Which is silly. I know that. But still. A couple of hours later, after the massage and after I slunk home, it started to feel good. Like, really good. And I went for a second round a few days later. Been a fan ever since. But those awkward first moments, they are so vivid in my memory.”

I fell silent as my story ended. And for a while, we both stayed silent. Twilight concentrated on her work, I relaxed as best as I could, and everything was fine.

Then I felt her breath tickle my ear. And not a second later, her teeth cautiously nibbled at the edge of it. Her hooves and magic were still busy, she had moved on to my back in the meantime. But nibbling my ear was an interesting addition to the massage routine.

I cracked one eye open and peeked at her. “Is that part of the massage?” I asked with a grin.

She softly exhaled against my ear, her breath hotter than before and I could not help but shudder in pleasant delight. “Maybe?” she replied, tracing the tip of her tongue along the edge she had just nibbled on. “Would you like that?” she asked.

Another shiver ran down my spine and I felt a tingling from downstairs. I searched for a clever answer when suddenly, the door was flung wide open and we both jumped a bit.

In came Aurora, oblivious to the moment she interrupted. But she quickly became aware of it once she stood in the room and stared at us. “Uhm… sorry for… intruding?”

I chuckled. “You could’ve knocked, you know?”

Aurora grimaced and looked apologetically to Twilight, before her attention returned to me. “I forgot that she’s here!”

I puffed out my cheeks in protest. “I could have been busy by my lonesome!” I teased.

“Ew! Dad!” she recoiled and I could not help but laugh.

“So, what’s so urgent that you barge in here like that?” I asked after sufficiently traumatizing my little princess.

Aurora needed a moment to recompose herself before she blinked and smiled. “Right. Nothing major, I was just wondering if you have seen Mister Cuddles anywhere?”

My first impulse was to snort again, but this time I managed to keep a lid on. “Remind me who — and what — that is again? One of the stuffed toys Periwinkle gifted everypony, I presume?”

Aurora nodded. “Yes. A stuffed griffon. She gave it to Derpy.”

I furrowed my brow. I remembered that. Despite the last few days being a bit of a blur in my memory, mostly due to me overworking myself, I still remembered that. Derpy had squealed in delight. She instantly fell in love with that toy. Smushed it against her chest and cuddled with it and carried it anywhere one could reasonably see her. “Did she lose it?” I asked. “She basically took it everywhere for the last few days. Well, except when she was flying around with the weather device.” And whenever Derpy and Mister Cuddles went on an adventure — so basically whenever they went anywhere — Derpy beamed. It would have made Pinkie shed a tear of liquid pride.

“Yes and it seems she has lost him somehow,” Aurora answered.

“I see. I will keep my eyes peeled in case I see him, but no, I can’t remember coming across him recently. Last time I saw them together was yesterday around midday, I believe.”

My filly furrowed her brow in thought while she nodded absentmindedly. “Well, thank you anyway. I will not keep you from continuing… whatever that is. And sorry again for the interruption.”

Pride. It was the prevalent emotion I felt towards my sunshine at that moment. Here she was, running around the village in search of a stuffed toy to mend Derpy's undoubtedly broken heart. I was more or less forbidden from helping right now, but I made a mental note to search the village myself tomorrow. I could only imagine Derpy’s face, and I rather not sour my mood by doing so. A friend in need indeed. That said, a stuffed toy was still something that could wait until tomorrow.

That left me with the itch to tease Aurora a little further. “Since we’re on the topic, how is… what did you call yours?” A faint tint rose to Aurora's alabaster cheeks. She refused to answer. “Starfox?”

The tint bloomed into a full-on blush. “Daaad!” she whined. “He’s on my be-shelf!” she quickly added — and corrected.

I could feel my smile grow into a predatory grin. “Uh-huh. Strange. I don’t remember us having any shelves…” As if to make a point, I looked around my own very unfurnished room.

“Anyway, thanks, later, bye!” Aurora blurted out in quick succession and hastily retreated, slamming the door shut in the process before she cantered down the hallway and down the stairs. I craned my neck to get a look at Twilight, who had been very patient and very silent the entire time. And we both broke out in laughter.

It took us a few minutes to calm down again and I even had to wipe away some tears again. “Phew, that never gets old,” I cackled.

Twilight grinned and looked around. She found the small key on the floor and locked us in with a devious smile. Interesting. “Where were we?”

I chuckled. “You asked if I would like you to continue massaging my ear with your teeth and quite frankly, after this little break, I decided that I would love that!”

Her expression, her entire demeanor changed. Subtly, but surely. Bedroom eyes, a slow stroke of her hoof down my back, and the way she bit down on her lower lip. It made my heart skip a beat or two. “So be it,” she replied promisingly. “Be a good pony and roll over, will you?”

I swallowed and complied, rolling onto my back. She leaned down and my eyes fluttered shut again as she kissed me. A little nip on my lower lip made me suck in air as she pulled back, only for her eyes to betray a fire that surely had not been there — or not this obvious — a few seconds earlier. She lunged for me and I was easy and willing prey. As our tongues intertwined, her wing extended and caressed my barrel with feathery strokes.

Eventually the need for air forced me to break the kiss, but she would not let me go that easily. I had to tear myself free and raised my head onto the cushion, taking a greedy gulp of air in the process. But her lips were already all over me. I felt her teeth nip at the skin on my lower jaw, felt her tongue trace over my throat. For a brief moment, she even opened her jaws wide and clenched them around my throat entirely and for whatever reason, it triggered something wild and primal within me, an instinctual fear and thrill, a massive kick of adrenaline.

I gasped, my front hooves flailed aimlessly until I found her, stroked through her mane, tried to guide her back up to me, but again she would not let me.

I felt slightly light-headed as the excitement and anticipation built up. I had not even realized my member emerging from my sheath until she grabbed it with her telekinesis. Another gasp and this time, she lunged for my muzzle again, used the opportunity to plunge her tongue into my mouth, to wrestle control from me more and more while her magic tightened ever so slightly and moved up and down in agonizingly slow strokes.

I was completely overwhelmed by the sheer onslaught of emotions and her apparent aggressiveness and I was here for that. Sweet heavens, this was incredible.

“If you keep this up, I won’t last long,” I managed to string a couple of words together. It did not seem like she cared much as she only increased the speed of her strokes slightly while peppering my neck with more nips and kisses.

I tried to stem the tide, tried to get a modicum of control, to exert some resistance. But she would have none of that. The moment she became aware of it, she repositioned herself slightly. I heard the rustle of the sheets, opened my eyes and saw her barrel from the side. I had barely a second to be confused before she aligned herself with me and a twitchy, throbbing part of myself vanished in her mouth.

“T-Twilight!” I hissed as she plunged deeper and deeper. It became harder to hold on with every second as the tight, warm wetness of her muzzle enveloped me.

I wanted to reciprocate so badly. I tried to reach her, tried to grab her flank, but she had positioned herself cleverly. Enough so that she could reach me, but not vice versa. And with my current state of mind, there was no chance in Tartarus to get any spell successfully off my horn.

A soft pop made me look up. I could feel the cold air on my nethers, felt both relief and sadness, felt another sharp breath filling my lungs as she fondled my balls with her hoof. “What did I tell you?” she asked with a smile, even though there was a certain toughness in her eyes. “Let me take care of you today.”

I had a bad conscience. Instantly. For disobeying her. And that confused me to no end for about five seconds. “I know!” I replied. But this was not right, I felt. There was no doubt that she was left wanting as well, I simply wished to make her feel good in turn. “I just waahhh—“

My explanation was cut short by a drawn-out moan as she resumed her ministrations.

Sex, for me, was a lot about hearing. Hearing her ragged breathing, hearing her moan, hearing her utter my name. Hearing the sloppy slurping sound she made right now as I felt the soft suction on my member, as I felt her tongue trace along its length with the rapid movement of a dancer.

But my little peanut had made a crucial mistake.

She had given me a few seconds of relief before. Enough that I had managed to reposition myself ever so slightly. Just enough to reach her, grab her and pull her over me. She yelped in surprise and probably would have chided me for it, for disobeying her again, but I did not care, I grabbed her cutie marks with both hooves, pulled her down and buried my muzzle beneath her involuntarily flagging tail.

As expected, she was dripping wet. I quickly lapped up everything around her nethers before I dove right in and pushed my tongue as far as I could in between those marvelous quivering walls of hers. Her long, satisfied moan reverberated into my own loins and we quickly fell into a sort of competition. There was no chance in Tartarus that I would manage to get her off before she finished me, but still — I appreciated being able to reciprocate at all. Feeling those tremors in her haunches made me eager, her arousing taste on my tongue and lips, the scent of her excitement filling my nostrils with every breath I took — it was all intoxicating.

I failed to notice at which point my hips developed a life and will of their own. I started bucking upwards, and Twilight merely adapted to my rhythm, moving forward every time I bucked up. The sensation of ebb and tide, heat and cold, it quickly drove me to the edge.

I tried to intensify my own actions in turn. I broadly stroked over her clit as she winked at me rapidly in excitement, but in the end, this ‘duel’ had been decided from the very start.

“T-Twi-!” I uttered. The sheer thought of me climaxing deep in her throat made her shiver all over, made her moan deeply as with one last buck, she tested out her own limits. And the very moment my already crumbling self-control was blasted to smithereens, I sucked her clit in between my teeth and gave it just the faintest squeeze and she came fractions of a second after me.

While I still bucked and twitched and one spurt after another went into her mouth, Twilight in turn flooded mine. And I was just as greedy with what I was given as she was.

Eventually, after long, stretched seconds of bliss, I collapsed onto the bed in exhaustion. And my peanut collapsed right on top of me. It made me chuckle. This was fine. I loved feeling her close to me, especially after sex. With my shrinking, retreating member sloppily flopping from her mouth, she took a couple of greedy breaths, coughed once and made me laugh, outright laugh, as she placed one last, chaste kiss on its shrinking form and mumbled a quiet thank you.

She then turned around. Her face was flushed. Her mane matted with sweat and disheveled. Her coat was ruffled and her eyes glazed over with remnants of bliss and arousal. The entire room smelled of sex. Her movement was sluggish. I raised a hoof to her cheek and she leaned into it. “Sweet heavens, you’re beautiful,” I murmured.

She giggled faintly and flopped down beside me. And I instantly curled up around her, pulling her against me. “Glad you enjoyed it,” she replied.

“Sorry for disregarding your commands,” I teased her with a grin.

“It is fine,” she replied lazily, clearly ready for an afternoon nap. “I will get you for that later. Now it is time for cuddles. Postcoital cuddles are the best.”

Ominous. I smiled and nodded. That was fine with me. We cuddled long into the afterglow. And again after a second round later on…

I had dozed off at some point. That became clear when I opened my eyes again and I noticed how the quality of daylight flooding in through my window had changed. The light was closer to a warm orange now, the shadows had moved considerably. Late afternoon, early evening, something along those lines.

It took me a while to figure out what had actually woken me up. It was not the presence of something, but rather the absence. “Twilight?”

I turned my head to peek at the space beside me and found it suspiciously empty. There should have been a plush and feathery and warm bundle of joy there. Instead I was greeted by empty space. And the telltale signs of recent movement. She had snuck out. Huh. Rare was the instance when she actually managed to do that.

Either I must have been really exhausted, or she had outdone herself.

I did spot a slightly crumpled note though. I unfolded the small piece of paper and read what she had left for me. “I will make dinner,” I read aloud. “Huh.”

I put the note back down, put my head back down as well and closed my eyes again. Dinner. That sounded nice. I could go for a snack. Or maybe even a full meal. And despite me mentally joking about a different kind of snack afterwards, I was more than satisfied with our recent activities.

That said, something about this note just kept bugging me.

I will make dinner.

Why did that sound like a threat?

I will make dinner!

This was getting weirder.

I will make dinner, and you cannot stop me!

Yes, peanut. I know I cannot stop you. Why would I want to, though?

Because Spike exiled her from the kitchen, dummy!

I grimaced as he made his opinion known. Only to then quickly realize that no, that was decidedly not an opinion, it was the truth. And worse still, I knew why Twilight was forbidden from using the castle kitchen for anything other than making tea, coffee, hot chocolate and plain water in a glass.

“Oh shoot!” I cursed and tried to jump out of my bed, only to immediately faceplant. “Ow.” I disentangled myself from my bedsheets, haphazardly threw them back onto the bed and stumbled my way over to the door. As soon as I opened it, I could smell burnt… something.

“Well at least it’s not the entire kitchen again… yet… I hope…” I murmured as I quickly made my way down the darkening corridor, then down the stairs and into the kitchen area.

The moment I pushed the door open, I was greeted with… well, chaos. Despite what some ponies believed about Pinkie, she was very organized and even when her kitchen looked like a mess, it was a meticulously organized mess. Twilight however, she inverted that. She really tried to stay organized in a kitchen, it just always failed for some reason. Which usually led to fire, somehow.

This in front of my eyes? This was just an ordinary, plain mess.

Spotting Twilight was not hard. She was glued to the ceiling. Some sort of adhesive, transparent, toxic-green substance clung to the ceiling in a big slimy blob. And Twilight was caught in it. Her wings were stuck, her left front hoof was stuck, her horn was stuck, her… tail was stuck. I did quite enjoy the view for two seconds.

I tore my gaze away from her rump and took stock of the rest of the kitchen. There was a pan. Melted to the stove. Somehow.

And a bowl containing what looked and smelled like batter. On fire, of course.

The moment I looked back up after taking everything in, Twilight stopped struggling against the glue and grinned awkwardly. “I can explain!”

I burst out laughing for about less than five seconds, because I really did not wish to hurt her feelings, but the entire situation was just so comically over the top that it was hard to believe that any of this really happened. Yet, such was the fate of those living with alicorns, I assumed. Or maybe this really was more a Twilight-thing. “Right. That one I must hear!” While I carefully phrased my answer, I went to the sink and was relieved to see some water in it. I grabbed the still-on-fire bowl and considered simply dumping it in there, but that would most certainly ruin whatever was left. Maybe something could still be salvaged?

So instead I put the lid of one of the pots on top and extinguished the fire by suffocating it. With the bowl safely placed on the metal part of the sink, I looked back up. “Are you okay up there?”

Twilight sighed. Things had clearly not gone according to her plan. “Well, at least the glue should dissolve any sec-ah!” The entire slimy-green blob vanished instantly and Twilight fell. There was a dull thud accompanied by an “oof!” as she hit the floor as neither of us was quick enough to catch her in our telekinesis. After a brief moment of stunned silence, her voice emanated from the other side of the kitchen counter. “I’m okay!”

Despite her reassurance, I still rushed over and inspected her for any injuries. I knew that actually hurting an alicorn was rather difficult. I had seen Sunny break a cleaver by accident while hacking herbs to pieces and getting her hoof in the way. Still, it was a natural response, I assumed. Even after five decades of marriages.

“Are you hurt?” I asked and helped her to her hooves.

Twilight smiled wryly. “Only my pride.”

The impulse was there to tease her a little, maybe with a snarky comment or something like that, but she looked seriously bummed out about this failure, so I bit back any ideas in that direction and instead levitated the bowl over to see if anything could be salvaged. To my surprise, what I quickly recognized as some sort of batter had little sparkly dots in it. I grabbed a bit of the dough and lifted it, turned it in the light and it really did sparkle. In various shades of colored light.

Took me almost half a minute to realize why.

When I did, I chuckled. Salvageable, this was not. “You accidentally brought along the gemstone powder for Spike’s treats, didn’t you?”

Twilight did a double-take. “What? No! No, no, no, no, no, I did not! I picked exactly what his kitchen- and supply plan indicated should be—“ She fell quiet when she took a closer look at the small piece of batter I held up with my magic. It was harder to see, so I put it on my hoof and turned it a little, so she could see the same sparkling I had observed. Her shoulders sagged even further. “Aw.”

I shook my head, discarded the sample back into the bowl and went to hug my peanut. “The perils of living with a less-than-perfectly organized young dragon.” I kissed her cheek. “Don’t worry, it’s fine. See, we got an inn now, and Periwinkle turned out to be a surprisingly good cook, even relieving Spike of his post. Well, not entirely. They change it up every few days or something like that. She claims she learned cooking from her mom, Trixie, who did not wish for her to live off of trash food.”

Twilight pulled back a bit to look me square in the eyes. “Are you insulting my not-so-secret love of hayburgers… again?”

I was relieved. If she was willing to go along with this silliness, then her failure in the kitchen did not dampen her mood as much as I feared. This was a good development. So I grinned and shook my head. “Nah, I would never! How dare you insinuate that I would even think of teasing you with something as profound as this!” Twilight raised an eyebrow, but smiled. And she seemed mollified for now. “So, how about it?” I continued. “Dinner at the tavern? My treat!”

Twilight let her eyes wander through the kitchen, over the half-melted pan, the blackened bowl and the sparkly batter within it. “You don’t even pay there,” she grumbled.

I was unsure if she grumbled because of her failure, or because not paying was a disappointment, or what she meant. But that was fine, I did not need the explanation. “Neither do you,” I simply retorted. “Come on. It’ll be fun! You will get to see all the quirky ponies we collected so far.”

She sighed one last time before she put on a brave face and nodded. “Fine.”

Dinner had been an interesting experience. One I mulled over as we made our way back home. The tavern I referred to was not the building Periwinkle wanted. That one still needed to be constructed. She arrived in town three days ago and in that time, Aurora and her had been busy drawing up some blueprints, but even those were unfinished. It took time to build a house. And Periwinkle's demands were probably an interesting challenge to work with.

From what I had heard over dinner from others, she wanted a large, open space for everypony to mingle, for tables and chairs and maybe even a dance floor. Compromise was required — an open space was all well and good, but the upper story she also wanted needed to be supported by something or the entire structure would eventually come crashing down. Then there was the need for an actual stage as part of the open seating area. And a bar counter. And so much more.

Aurora really did have her work cut out for her.

No, what I — and the rest of Greenwood so far — colloquially referred to as our ‘tavern’ was just another ordinary building, in theory meant as a house for somepony to live in. But since we barely had any furniture yet, Honey and Hefty stored anything they managed to finish in there. Which basically made it the only house with tables and chairs. And since Periwinkle's arrival, that had somehow served to transform the empty storage house into a makeshift tavern where everypony met up to share stories, updates, gossip and the occasional bowl of soup. It basically became the new campfire spot.

A side effect of the building being a house was the fact that it was rather crammed in there. So walking back home was a bit of a relief. It was quiet. It was less stuffy. And cooler. The evening breeze guided us home and sapped the excess warmth from us, not unlike the river's water had done this morning.

Back inside, I ushered Twilight up the stairs and we returned to my bed. “Phew, I am done,” I announced and rolled onto my side, gesturing with a hoof for her to come to me. She gladly complied and I hugged her back after her wings had settled. Despite the nice evening topping off a very nice day, there was a certain melancholy in the air. I sighed and addressed the mood head-on. “You are going to leave soon, aren’t you?”

Her wings betrayed her before she even said a single word. They twitched slightly. Still, I waited. And after a while, she raised her head and kissed my cheek. “Kind of,” she answered. “I do have an important appointment with Ember in the morning and Luna can only substitute for me for so long, but! I will stay the night with you and sneak out in the morning.”

I loved her. In moments like these, I became incredibly aware of just how much. Just sleeping with her side by side, having her here when I fell asleep, that alone was worth a lot. And she had already done so much for me today. I nuzzled the back of her head. “Thank you.”

We cuddled together, her horn lit up one final time to grab the blanket from the lower end of the bed and wrap it around the both of us, and at some point, we both fell asleep.

Too early, my sleep-drunken mind realized. I despised the fact that I was capable of conscious thought. It really was too early for that. And I insistently refused to open my eyes. I would just go back to sleep. Sink down into the sea of dreams again and continue a nice, long, restful night.

But something had woken me up. And my mind was on a roll. I simply could not stop it and within a few moments, the memory clicked into place. Twilight was about to sneak out. And my sleep-addled mind was filled with foalish discontent. So, as she cautiously tried to wiggle her way out of my embrace, I only tightened my grip on her and pulled her back in. At that point, she became aware that her attempts to not stir me had failed. “Go back to sleep,” she quietly whispered.

I wanted that so badly. But at the same time, I did not want to let her go either. What little I could consciously remember from the last day had been nice. So nice in fact, that her getting out of this bed was completely out of the question. “Sleep demands kisses,” I murmured into her mane.

She could teleport at any moment. I knew that. But she did not. And neither did she struggle against me to escape. She did move around to reposition herself, which was fine with me. Until we lay muzzle to muzzle. I could feel her breath tickle my nose. It made me smile.

A moment later, she lifted her head off the cushion and placed a trail of three consecutive kisses on my cheek, lower jaw and throat. I hummed in appreciation as the pleasant gesture seemed to linger even after her lips had left me. And somehow that worked to trick me into not realizing as she slipped out of my grasp and out of bed.

“Aw,” was the only comment my disappointed but still half-asleep mind managed to muster.

She giggled faintly, barely audible. It made me smile once more. Then Twilight tugged me in properly and tried to sneak to the bedroom door. She would most likely teleport from the hallway or downstairs.

And every second step, the floorboards creaked.

And with every noise, she audibly flinched and muttered something under her breath.

And with every curse, the smile on my face grew wider.

It was a strange satisfaction. Greenwood was my home. I went to great lengths to build this village, to assemble a team capable of helping me out with this task. I was willing to brave the chaos and magic and wild flora and fauna and worse. Even in this cycle, where my heart and home was already firmly planted somewhere else. Because Greenwood always needed to exist. And I was willing to face down whatever would stand in its way.

It felt like a thankless task sometimes. Most of the time, actually.

But here was this house, built a few weeks ago from freshly cut wood. Nothing in this building was old or badly maintained. Yet the floorboards creaked to notify me of somepony sneaking around in my house.

That was nice of my house. Very nice.

“Good house,” I proudly mumbled into my cushion as my consciousness drifted off again…