Diarchal Advisor Arnon, Vivid Streak | Canterlot Castle - Luna's Wing

Statistically speaking, according to the Canterlot scribes tallying the complaints if the nobles, there was a growing influx of Thestrals slowly trickling back into the capital, following the enactment of the first step of Arnon's proposed multi-step reintegration program.

Through incentives and bonuses for working state-supplied jobs, a better opportunity was offered here, congregating them. Having their Princess back, publicly backing and supporting them, was a huge morale boost that could be felt all through the night staff.

Now the second part was underway; a Thestral-orientated district in the city. A stack of papers in hand, and with Vivid trailing at his side, Arnon slowly cuts through Luna's wing of the castle, enjoying it's minimalistic, quiet atmosphere.

"Some good stuff in there, Sir?" Vivid asks while trotting alongside Arnon, head tilted curiously. Unlike Bulwark, her steps and her armor are far quieter with each hoof-fall, barely so much as rustling.

"I would hope so, after interviewing all those Thestrals. Your kind aren't easy to track down." Arnon retorts, shuffling a few of the papers in his grasp. Can't decide which to lead with; the new housing, or the newest educational program.

"You try during night, or day?" Vivid asks.

"Both." Arnon aptly adds. Thestrals were sneaky to a fault, making them a pain to find during the night; and usually dead asleep during the day. It'd taken some time to get all the testimonials they'd needed, even with the guards help.

"Whoof. Well, shows you've tried harder than the last advisor. Or at least, so I've heard." She rolls her eyes. "That word I put in help?"

"Only reason I got any of them to speak with me, so thanks for that. Closed community, aren't you guys?"

"I'm sure you can guess why." She retorts dryly. "Not exactly much trust for us floating around, even with Princess Luna's return."

"Hang on -- there was someone before me?" Arnon pauses, slowing in his step.

"Well... directly after Princess Luna's return, Princess Celestia tried to incorporate a small council of Advisors to help ease Luna's return, and facilitate the needed changes." Vivid explains, waiting for him to catch up.

"And since I've never seen or heard of them before..."

"One of them tried to offer an outright ban on Thestrals as a solution." Vivid affirms, shaking her head.

Figures why they still didn't have the job.
"Do I wanna guess how many of them had ties to noble families?" Arnon snorts, getting a surprised chuckle out of Vivid.

Vivid sighs, rolling her eyes.
"All of them, actually. I heard it was quite the scandal, since Princess Celestia had tried for an even spread of origins and backgrounds."

"And I can guess Luna didn't take it well, either?" Arnon asks.

"Not at all. Honestly, sometimes I wonder... sorry, never mind." Vivid stops herself, pursing her lips.

"Treasonous thoughts, Vivid?" Arnon teases.

"N-nope. Not me, sir." She quickly denies, shaking her head.

Luna's room doors can be seen up ahead, foretelling their near arrival.

"At ease, Vivid. Maybe I'll tell you about the French and what they think of the nobility, some day."

"...You mean Prench?" Vivid prompts, confused.

"Not quite. Know what a guillotine is?"

"Nope."

"I bet Luna would wanna build one." Arnon says, as if offering a hint.

"...Should I be worried about this, now?" Vivid asks slowly, picking up on it quickly.

"Oh, not really. It just parts nobles from their unwanted opinions."

"Oh, okay." Vivid huffs in relief.

"At the neck." Arnon helpfully adds.

"...Yours is a grim people, sir." She groans just as quickly.

"You've no idea." He grins.

Vivid takes her station beside the doors, promptly sitting on her haunches once they reach Luna's room. The rest of the hall is quiet, just like how it always is. Night was a peaceable time.

"I'll be here, sir. Princess Luna advised there to be no change to your supervision, despite your... teeth-related incident."

Arnon awkwardly clears his throat.

"I'd make a jab about how I probably don't need to worry, since they found you pinned against the wall... but considering how quickly she forgave you, that isn't the full story, is it?" Vivid questions, brow raised.

"No comment." Arnon says -- it's all he can say, considering he doesn't even remember.

"...Hrm. Be kind to her, sir. She enjoys your company." Vivid huffs, relenting.

"...Will do, Vivid." Arnon mock-salutes, nearly spilling the papers he'd tucked into his sling.

Diarchal Advisor Arnon, Princess Luna | Luna's Private Chambers

Well, she did seem partial to his presence, if she was still a bit cold about it. Coy and teasing in a way that reminded him she was, in fact, Celestia's sister -- but definitely not as interested in playing the social game.

Stepping inside the room, Vivid shuts the door behind him, as Arnon is greeted by that same alien, smooth styling her room holds. Glancing around for the Princess, he...

Wow.

She's sat close to the end of the room, near the balcony. The massive, thick curtains are pulled aside, as plentiful moonlight spills and splashes across every inch of the usually dark and dreary abode. Luna is sat without her usual regalia, biting her lip as she stares up a massive canvas, that easily dwarfs her by numerous times. She's got a small set of paints beside her, and a brush slowly glides it's way across as she works, grasped in her deep-blue magical glow. It looks like some kind of landscape, a rocky coast that ends in a roiling, angry ocean.

She's a really fucking pretty mare, the way her mane softly shifts, highlighted by the moonlight... and seeing her just... in her element. He's not sure how long he just stands there for, just watching her. She's not as tall as Celestia. Arnon wonders if that's simply the difference of time, and if in a thousand years she'll match her sister, or if Luna is simply a smaller Alicorn. She's no less graceful by any means, but while Celestia gives this regal aura of the northern lights...

It's so easy for Arnon to envision her adorned in full armor, halberd at her side. Nightmare or not, basking in the glow of the night, like a lonely story nestled in deep memory.

Eventually, the brush lowers to be dabbled into fresh paint, Luna's gaze following it -- as she notices him out the corner of her eye, head snapping up at the realization she's not alone.

Ah, shit. Should've announced himself. She's gonna get upset that he's --

"Arnon!" Luna perks up, realizing it's him, smiling. She's quick to rise, dropping the brush and trotting over to see him. She almost seems too excited, before she's as equally quick to recompose herself on the walk over, taking a more familiar back-tilted head, complete with a noble, half-lidded stare and firm lip.

"Princess." Arnon bows as she nears.

She clears her throat, matching his bow. Things might be a touch more casual than they were back in ye-olde-canterlot, but it was a simple enough thing to play up the old, respectful traditions; he could tell she enjoyed the attention.
"It is good to see you, our Advisor. We were not expecting you -- is it our week with thou already?"

They make it sound like he's a child of divorce, getting tossed between parents.
"It is, and I bear updates regarding our previous meeting. May I?" Arnon gestures to the desk.

Luna nods, gesturing with a wing... before realizing her paints and supplies completely cover the top of it, leaving no room.
"Ah. A moment, please."

"Of course. I'd offer to assist, but..." Arnon glances at his sling.

"Your arm, we remember. How doth it fare?" Luna nods, understanding.

"It's healing well enough. Clean break, I should be back to two-handing soon." He shrugs. He was getting used to it, and while magic might not affect him, pain medication sure did.

"We are most glad to hear it. When we heard that thou had been injured, we were quite upset, to say the least. When it was revealed to us it was an act performed by our sister..." Luna scowls, as she sorts her various paints into a pile.

"A simple accident. She apologized many times."

"An accident that should not have occurred." She retorts, with some surprising venom.
"We are rulers -- Alicorns, Arnon. We are to measure our strength, so that we may never harm our subjects."

"And your subjects appreciate the effort. Unfortunately for you both, I'm a bit of a unique case." Arnon continues to press how little this actually matters to him. He wasn't going to explain that he got plenty of white-furred cuddles for it, and that he was considering doing it again to get more, but still.

"Your status as our Advisor does not levy you to be open to injury from us, Arnon." She pushes, giving him a surprisingly insightful stare.

Arnon purses his lips, letting his gaze wander over to the part of the wall he'd been pinned up against some days prior. Luna follows his gaze, her scowl slowly fading.

"I... think it's safe to say that in the exploration into the unique standings of our relationship, we've all partaken in a little... testing of limits." Arnon offers, trying to equalize.

"We've yet to bite you back, if that is your implication." Luna retorts, lifting her head.

"You may claim me for such whenever you wish, Princess." Arnon offers, making another, smaller bow.

That seems to stagger her stature for a moment, ears flicking as a light flush takes her cheeks.
"Claim you? You... ah. In return for the biting."

"Did you intend another form of claiming? Am I unaware of some Old-Canterlot traditions of taking Advisors?" Arnon teases.

Luna clears her throat with much exaggeration, motioning to the desk with a wing.
"The desk is clear." She states, trying to shift the topic.

Arnon relents with the playfulness, spreading the papers across the surface as Luna approaches, head tilted curiously. Rather than stand across from him, however, she stands beside him, the lightest smell of... he's not quite sure. Wonder what soap she uses.

"I hope this isn't... presumptuous, but I've detailed the general building plans. Of course, I'm not versed in construction -- but I think the outline should work well enough for anyone who could translate it to a blueprint." Arnon explains, pushing the parchment across the cold top of the desk, in front of Luna.

Princess Luna cranes her neck, idly inspecting the parchments with the soft glow emanating from her horned appendage, turning it about to face her properly.
"We see... adjusting the city district that beholds the highest number of Thestrals?" She questions.

Arnon nods, turning to face her.
"We want to provide more Night-Focused infrastructure, but within the walls. By avoiding creating a Shantytown, we can hopefully avoid some judgement from the Nobles."

"Shantytown?" She asks.

"Rapid expansion or immigration into a limited area, like a walled settlement, usually results in some segregated, outer-wall settlements being formed, that tend to be... poor, and crime-ridden." Arnon explains, trying to keep it light.

"Mm." Luna hums, nodding. "Certainly, they've already made their voices abundantly clear on the matter."

"They've tried, but your sister has played a very vocal role of support, citing unity and other rallying cries." Arnon nods.

"Has she? That's... appreciated." Luna muses, potentially reconsidering her previous opinion of her sibling. Despite her comparative youth and the rumors of a swirling jealousy, Luna was quick on the uptick. While she might need some initial guidance, once she got the swing of something, she took to it full force.

"Tell us, Arnon. These plans... they're to add towers?" She continues, seeking clarification.

"They're based off of a form of housing where I'm from, called Apartments. Since most Thestrals can fly, the idea is to expand vertically, granting them a larger, busier district without requiring expansion of the wall, or shifting them outside. Once the Thestral voice is stronger in Canterlot, we can seek out a project of a larger scale, like constructing a new wall segment for a new district." Arnon explains, pointing to the blueprints.
"Smaller homes, with larger corner units for families, able to go several stories high. Foundational support will be important, but flight gives us a lot of leeway for entrances and ease of building."

"...You continue to surprise us with how much effort you put into this, Arnon." Luna mumbles, looking over the blueprints. She's stood very close to him, only inches away.

"Only matching your zeal for your own peoples, Princess." Arnon deflects, in an attempt to stow his ego. Doesn't work. He smiles, proud. He did stay up several nights concocting this and speaking with Canterlot builders guilds.

"May we... talk, for a moment? Candidly?" Luna asks suddenly, turning to face him.

"Of course, Princess. Is there an issue?" Arnon asks, concerned.

"No. Actually, the contrary. We wanted to thank you for your continued assistance. You're proving to be... a capable Advisor, and... a good friend." She adds the last part quieter, glancing away for a moment before re-meeting his gaze.

Not quite where he expected that to go, but before Arnon can comment, Luna holds up a hoof for him to wait, and to let her keep going.
"This goes beyond simply performing well at your job. You have taken a... personal interest in assisting us. We wanted to ask why."

"Why?" Arnon parrots, confused.

"Why do you seek us out in the night, to ease our Nightmares? To assure us that we truly are our sisters equal, to push us to hold night court, to aid the imbalance of our Thestrals -- you even found us a student, with a proclivity for the moon. There was already an acceptable workload for your station when you first took the role. In fact, you didn't even need to be a Diarchal Advisor. The station was originally just for our sister. This is all..." She trails off, searching his face for answers.

Arnon considers playing it off with a joke, but her earnest expression melts that idea away. Instead, he takes a slow breath, nodding.

"...When I ended up here, Luna, I was alone. Everything I knew got left behind, and the world I got dropped into was far from anything I was familiar with. Then, I learn about a Princess who returned from the Moon, a thousand years after exile... I thought it only right that you should get the help that I received from those around me, you know? I thought we might have a... kinship, might be a good word for it." Arnon explains, trying to find the right words.

"That we both might be the only creatures to understand the other. To leave a world we know, and to meet one so unfamiliar." Luna follows, nodding.

"Yeah, in a sense. Your sister really wants to support you... she just doesn't know how. She's been very happy to hear about the progress you've been making, though."

"It has been ten generations since our exile, Arnon. Even our sister is a different Mare than we remember her, and everypony else we knew is gone... even those creatures of similar lifespan, we've yet to find again."

"Well, I'm here, if ever you desire companionship, Princess. Be it someone to sit in silence with, discuss... anything, or just to have accompany you to do something."

"Thank you, but... why, Arnon? You know I was Exiled. That we are Nightmare Moon, attempted usurper of the throne. Does that not bother you?"

"...Permission to speak even more candidly, Princess?" Arnon asks.

"You may." She nods.

Perhaps to deny that she is Nightmare Moon is the better thing to say here... but she spent a thousand years as her. That's longer than she lived, multiple times, if he has the timeline understood properly. So it would be wrong to deny... her, of herself.
"I recognize your attempts to improve yourself, and I respect them -- especially since you've done so alone, of your own volition. I know your sister tries to help, but your efforts are yours alone, and I hold immense admiration for you for making those steps. Not many can. That said... if Night were to challenge it's place in the sky, Princess... I would not abandon my post."

"You would serve --" Luna's eyes widen.

"I would serve you, Princess, no matter your form. Humans are... a species with a deep, grey well of emotional depth. The jealousy that drove you that day is not at all a strange thing to me. I believe you were simply dealt a poor... well, the term my people say is hand, though I'm not sure if 'hoof' will substitute it well enough, but you deserve equal stature. You've a thousand years of your birthright to catch up on, and I could hardly stand idle to see your efforts go unmatched."

"That is..." Luna quietly mumbles, glancing down.

"My role, which I am very comfortable in, is that of you and your sisters Advisor. I will support you both, even in a situation where you may be at odds, because I understand creatures that do not breadth the average mortality, like Alicorns, might handle things... differently."

"We see." Luna nods, looking distantly through the open curtains.

"Apologies, if I misspoke." Arnon offers, bowing.

Well, here's hoping he didn't just blow it, but... it felt like the right thing to say. Luna didn't seem the kind of mare to merely stagnate, and he wanted to make it clear he supported her, no matter how complex her situation.

The wing that slowly unfurls around him, pulling him close and against her, tells him his words were at least not taken poorly.

Her feathers are as weirdly soft as her fur -- unlike Twilight's familiar, could-use-a-brush fur, and Celestia's 'Peak Pony' fur, Luna's didn't quite feel like the fur of the ponies he's come to understand in this land. It was incredibly soft, in an almost silken way, despite being trimmed shorter than her sister kept it. In contrast, her 'pockets' of fluff were more exaggerated, with more chest and neck fluff, and so on.

"...Thank you." She whispers, holding him close.

Arnon tentatively reaches an arm over her neck, returning the gesture -- the way she leans into him further, it seems appreciated.

"...Though, we are curious." Luna says softly, a different look taking her face as she leans her face close to his. She's not as tall as her sister, who nearly meets his gaze -- Luna is a touch shorter, her eyes level with her neck, forcing her to look up with a tilted head.

"Yes, Princess?" Arnon answers, matching her tone.

"Does your loyalty to us tie into how you seem to enjoy dreaming of us, in full battle regalia, serving as your steed?" She asks, brow raising. "Twas not the form of 'riding' we expected to see, considering your more recent teeth-based proclivities."

Oop.

She grins at the embarrassed expression that takes his face, before leaning up to softly kiss his cheek.
"Perhaps... we can discuss the logistics of such an idea, at a later date."

Author's Note

ignore the lamp