Author's Note

This chapter inspired this cover art. See if you can find the passage. I think Syrupyyy did a fine job of capturing the emotion and the moment. Hit up the comments if you agree! I'll make sure the artist knows. FYI, this was a paid commission.

52 — Doing What a Mare Must IV: Moonstruck

Flowing Water wouldn't release me until I had a wheelchair. He admonished me, as Firefall wheeled me away, not to overexert myself, to come back immediately, and not to get chilled! Sunset and Citron followed, the former bringing a small throw blanket in hospital blue and the latter walking on three legs with the cast against his belly. Broomhill Dare took point, her horn lit brightly. With her prowess with Levitate, nopony would stand in our way; she'd move them.

I snoozed. Blueblood's suite lay on the opposite side of the castle campus from the Canterlot University Medical Building.

I woke when we stopped before the double doors. With a yawn, I stood. Feeling less wobbly, I rapped on the door with a hoof. It was 7:30 in the morning. Sunset threw the blue blanket over my back.

The left panel of the great door opened slowly. I remembered my first visit, when I'd had an appointment and had been late. I'd barely gotten through the door when Blueblood had initiated my first lesson, which ended up with a burnt chair and him floating against the ceiling. Then there was that glorious second visit—

"Oh! Hi, Starlight." Moon Dancer had stuck her head out the opening. Her mane was wrapped in a golden terrycloth towel, darker where it was wet. The fur on her neck stood akimbo, towel-dried but not yet curry-combed. She wore no clothes, notable because she liked turtlenecks; Horseshoe Bay was a windy maritime duchy, and she always wore them.

She blinked at me, her bushy red eyebrows pushing together as she squinted, her face too close in her myopia. "That is you, Starlight, right?"

She wasn't wearing her glasses.

"Yeah, but—"

"A bit early to visit— Wait, are you okay?" She stepped through the doorway and the door closed but didn't latch behind her. She squinted at me. "You were kinda out of it, yesterday."

She indeed wore nothing. She had just exited the shower, and she smelled faintly of oatmeal soap. The same scent Blueblood smelled of. This Blueblood. The real Prince of Equestria, or was that of Manehatten? Both.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, my thoughts tying themselves up in knots. I became aware in that instant that I looked like a train wreck, standing there with an incredible case of bed head, bruised and stitched together, wearing a blue hospital blanket with a wheelchair parked behind me.

"I slept over."

"Uh." That's all I got out.

Moon Dancer coughed. She felt back with a rear hoof. "Silly door. Where's my manners?" She shoved it open and stepped aside for us to enter.

Firefall flew in first.

The suite looked as it had a week ago. Ornate last century furniture, heavy on dark wood and cushy upholstery, with a high ceiling painted with a faux jungle canopy, made striking by frescos of a staring monkey and a rainbow-beaked toucan cracking a nut, to go with the acanthus carvings of the wooden cross members holding it up. Bright morning light flooded in from two walls of tall windows, showing the parapet bailey wall in the distance, and Sunset's ivory tower looming in the mid distance.

A stallion trotted in from the hall to the right, saying, "Who's here?" White. With a golden mane.

Blueblood. His bodyguards followed him.

He paused, long enough that his hooves skidded on the parquet floor, then he trotted at full speed. "Starlight! Starlight! Are you okay? I was beginning to wonder if you'd come back whole."

Worried. Happy. Relieved. Blue eyes, watery? Nothing reserved here. None of the Do-nothing persona he'd cultivated for Celestia's sake.

Was this the prince?

I held up a hoof as he skid to a stop. Firefall landed at the ready, reading my demeanor behind him. His three bodyguards—Singe, Desert Sands, and Mudflats—came to attention, the last one knocking aside a chair he stood next to.

I sniffed.

He smelled strongly of pony perspiration. That meant he had either been in his gym or he'd been in bed—

I shook my head vigorously, making sure I did not glance at Moon Dancer. I decided gym with no evidence other than if Moon Dancer was fresh from the bath, then he ought not be so sweaty from bed.

I sniffed again.

No cinnamon.

Not Thorax—

I cast my cutie mark magic. The numbers bloomed without thought, and I thrust my blue-green aura into his haunch. He whinnied at the unexpected tingling tickling feeling. I'd probed my own cutie mark, so I knew what it felt like, so long as I didn't tug it from its roots.

His bodyguards trotted up, warily. I well remembered what Singe had threatened the last time I'd been in this suite, in the bathroom with her.

I sensed... kinesthesis. The knowing the proper way to go, which made sense. He did have a compass cutie mark, one of common ones. It explained how he was able to counter me as if he were greased when we fought.

I thrust my magic into Moon Dancer's much more dainty flank to find in the first instance total darkness. She whinnied, backing as the darkness resolved into midnight blueness; a crescent moon hove into view, brighter than the stars that dotted her in-scape.

Blinking as my in-sight faded back to the bright sunny room, I said, "That's my cutie mark magic. I— Well— I've dealt with impostors the last few days."

I expected that evil sounding word from somepony in the room. Changelings. While Moon Dancer looked at her ruby crescent moon and three stars cutie mark, I turned to Blueblood.

He got a crooked half-smile. "I'm genuinely a prince of a pony, aren't I?"

I stepped forward, burying my nose in his ruff as I took a deep sniff of pony musk and the faded scent of oatmeal soap. "I think—"

He pulled me into a hug that made my joints pop, taking my breath away. Despite my bruises and everything else, it felt good. Really good. My aching heart opened wide as he said, "You're back. After what I saw, what you forced us to watch, you spitting out that wicked knife, healing the creatures until you passed out... I was so worried. You're back, oh, you're back!"

"Yeah," I said, and returned the hug. He was far stronger than me, right now.

Sitting. We both sat. He held me back. I looked into his concerned blue eyes. Our gazes met and his smile grew.

I'd known two Blueblood's. Both different. Both special. Both—

I closed the distance, craning my neck, but he didn't pull away. My heart raced. I kissed him. Deeply.

He returned the kiss with such gusto, he pushed me back on my bottom. Clattering hooves scattered right and left behind me until I slid into the door with my rump. He kept pushing until I rose up, pressing my spine against the door until the back of my head touched the wood. He stood, now, his lips locked with mine. I opened my eyes and met his twinkling blue ones. Each hoof clopped against the wood below my ears. I didn't know if it was relief, longing, or true feelings. My heart skipped beats, nonetheless. This made me wonder if he had been holding back that night we spent together!

Were there not other pressing matters in my head, I'd have let pony instinct take over right then and there, teaching my audience a trick or two I'd learned.

Against what I desired, I pushed him back with my magic.

Broomhill Dare said, "Dr. Flowing Water said she shouldn't overexert herself."

Sunset said, "I have a lot to learn."

Moon Dancer put in, "She does love him."

"Or something," Citron added, not sounding thrilled.

I scoffed. I didn't understand myself, or friendship. This feeling bore further study, however. Then I thought of Moon Dancer, shaking my head in confusion.

I thought about the other day, when Thorax (it had to be him) had caught up with me and Citron, heading to the castle from the bakery. He'd warned me I was in danger! He'd been protecting me even then. I'd also thought about sharing stallions. This, however... with Moon Dancer?

I asked her, "What are you doing here?"

"Sleeping over."

"Um, why?"

"I'm preparing to move in."

I jerked back. I glanced at Blueblood. My lips tingled—tingled.

I looked at her, blinking...

Blinking...

I may have tilted my head.

"Getting family history?" she tried, tentatively.

"Why?" I asked.

"He's my father and I thought—"

"What!" I stood up, hooves a-clatter. "What? Wait? What?"

I wasn't the only one that sputtered. Sunset sat hard in her surprise. Everypony in Canterlot interested in the royals knew Blueblood. His arrogant reputation often proceeded him. Sunset Shimmer—having been tamed from a feral foal by Celestia and adopted by Dr. Flowing Water, Celestia's personal physician, then having become one of Celestia's few protégés—was practically royal herself, having always lived on the castle grounds since she had begun to speak. For her, Moon Dancer being the prince's daughter was a revelation.

Moon Dancer's smile grew, then became predatory and toothy. Her bushy ruby eyebrows accentuated the effect. She turned to Sunset and said, "'And if you breathe a word of this, Celestia will be forced to kill you.'"

With a loud eep!, Sunset jumped backwards, something rather difficult for a pony to do. The red and yellow fiery-maned pony blinked in shock, eyes growing liquid, as I realized Moon Dancer had quoted... Sunset—from before Sunburst had arrived at our first special education class, immediately after I'd told Moon Dancer about the curse.

Sunset had said it to Moon Dancer as a malicious joke; it had shocked the yearling mare to tears.

"Moon Dancer!" I cried.

As Sunset had, she added, "Sorry, I couldn't help myself."

"Moon Dancer," Blueblood said sternly. "You shouldn't do that." Blueblood... fatherly? I shook my head.

Citron sat beside Sunset and hugged her as she hyperventilated.

The toweled-off yellow mare shrugged in a way that didn't seem exactly contrite. "...Sorry."

I had a sneaking suspicion that the new duchess held grudges. My thoughts screeched to a halt. "That means you're—"

"A princess." She nodded sheepishly, more like the Moon Dancer she had seemed to be when I first met her. "Princess Celestia will announce my coronation this weekend as the Princess of the Moon."

"Fitting, considering—" Blueblood said. "Dancing Waters and I had discussed what we'd name her if we had a filly: Luna, after my aunt."

I gasped, "That picture, in front of the Flying Horses Carousel?"

Blueblood nodded. "I figured out Dancing Waters had had a foal. I found that photo of Dancing Waters in a letter without a return address or postmark. I concluded I'd become a father. I think Calm Seas sent it to me."

Moon Dancer scoffed, pulling the towel from her hair and plopping it to the floor. "Not her, I can guarantee that!"

"You need to listen—" he began.

"Not happening!" she shouted. "That hag ruined my mother's life!" Everypony stepped back. I scooted away.

He said, "You're wrong. I tried to tell you. Starlight? I told you the story; maybe she'll listen to you?"

Moon Dancer sat, back against a red velvet sofa, bottom lip thrust out, wet ruddy mane pasted against her neck. She crossed her forelegs across her chest.

The story about his second filly-friend. "Your father—"

Sweet Celestia! Did I say "father?"

I continued, "The prince told me that your great-aunt helped your father and mother to leave the duchy so they could live together for half a year."

"Before she ruined their lives!"

"Duke Vigilant's demeanor matched his name. Even while growing up at Grin Having, I'd heard plenty about him. Apparently, when the Duke found out what happened, that your father had—" I gulped, but decided crass worked best here. "—ridden his great-niece whom he had affianced to a diplomat in a political marriage, he thrashed Blueblood and sent him back to Canterlot bloodied and denounced."

Blueblood said, "This was before Aunt Celestia acknowledge me as her nephew. She made a deal to prevent the scandal from getting out, which meant I'd stay away from the duchy for the rest of my life. I did receive that the photo of your mother, but Vigilant was exactly that— vigilant. I couldn't learn if she'd foaled, or much else, and that's the best I could do."

Moon Dancer relaxed, her eyes watery. "But, my great-aunt! She wouldn't tell me anything. She kept my mother prisoner in Horseshoe Bay. She and Princess Celestia were friends, so when I got my invitation to attend Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, I had to promise never to seek out Blueblood. I'd figured out he was my father by then. Why'd she do that? Why?"

Blueblood posited, "Because Duke Vigilant was her husband? With a habit of thrashing ponies?"

Nopony looked particularly pleased. If Moon Dancer thoroughly rethought the end of her fraught relationship with her deceased great-aunt, it might not end well.

Blueblood got up, saying, "Wait." He trotted back from a barrister case with something encased in a blue aura.

"Mustang's jackknife,"I said, inordinately pleased. He was changing the subject on Moon Dancer. "Where?"

He had cleaned the animal-ivory incased steel. It looked like a well-conserved museum piece rather than a well-used illegal gangland weapon.

"I saw what you did. You stabbed clear to her heart; I saw that. Then you healed her without a scar. You are a miracle worker, a true thaumaturge. You've earned the title Mage Glimmer as far as I'm concerned."

I blew air through my lips, scoffing. Desperation did not mage make. I accepted the artifact in my magic, triggered the knife so it popped open, admiring how the razor-sharp blades glinted in the sunlight—before snapping it closed. The room had gone deadly quiet.

Frosty.

I twirled the jack knife around as I looked to pop it back into my messenger bag. I didn't have it on me. "Nowhere to put this," I said, offering it back.

He cleared his throat and said, "Wait."

He hurried back with a squarish, artfully weathered brown messenger bag. A masculine hardsider with gold clasps. It looked to be fibrous tree bark, shellacked, and softened by being worked with hooves. The saddler had carved a compass into it, staining it darkly. It could barely hold a scroll and a quill, or the few spare gold bits it had in the built-in purple velvet coin purse. Not a mare's accoutrement. He looped it over my neck. As I stepped into it, he dropped the jackknife inside. I could take it as him putting his mark on me, but decided not to. I wasn't that kind of romantic to think being "possessed" was a good thing.

"Well, that's the first present you've given me."

He got a secretive little smirk. "I remember when I gave you—"

That he had!

I held up a hoof, trying to suppress a snort, but failing. Regardless, I had more pressing business. "Blueblood, do you know where Celestia is keeping Thorax and—"

Firefall explained over me, "—the Changeling prisoners?"

"No. She didn't share that with me."

I said, "It's probably a special place."

Firefall said, helpfully, "It is. Secret."

"Well, in that case—"

That feeling of dread returned, with an ominous feeling of foreboding in-tow. The word changeling put everything the sensora admitted too in absolutely the worst light. It was bad! Ponies for food. Impostors. Stealing love? I didn't think Celestia would resort to experiments or torture, but my intuition did not trust the alicorn. Citron's broken leg and Fizzlepop Berrytwist's broken horn, and a defeated sensora invasion did not bode well for the full reality I had yet to learn.

Were they alive?

Blueblood knew of a "secret" place.

Broomhill Dare wheeled me, my heart breaking in my chest, leaving me a rag doll. Firefall flying led my entourage back toward the University. The three story edifice served both for governmental offices and the Law School. Faced in bright white marble with a grand pediment carved of dancing blindfolded mares holding sets of hoof scales between them. Beneath the blocky marble building, in the basement, lay, apparently, dungeons—for special purposes.

Political prisoners? Study of sentient monsters?

I didn't know!