Yes, Your Highness

Yes, Your Highness

Chapter 1: We, the Lions

“The older I grow, the more I distrust the familiar doctrine that age brings wisdom.” - H. L. Mencken

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Falling.

He was falling, and fast.

Undeterred by endless depth of the void he was in, he casually wondered about how long he had been falling. What direction was he was falling in? Where was he falling too? How soon until he would arrive? Why did he have to be falling in the first place? As an Earth Pony who had experienced one flying chariot ride too many, his calm demeanor toward his own tumbling and endless barreling was surreal.

There was still no sign of an end, but now tiny glimmers were passing by him at incredible speeds. What were they? Stars? Fireflies? Light bulbs? It was impossible to tell. An incredible amount of them were constantly passing by from all directions, but he was sure that he was still falling, even though there was no up, down, or sideways.

It was just as before. Like the first time, and like the second time, and the third...

And like all times prior, without word or warning it stopped. The world stopped. The empty expanse of space had ended, and in its place a more familiar eden surrounded him.

The no-longer falling stallion rose on his hooves silently. His mouth was dry, his nostrils cold, his legs ached, and his mind was still absent. He sighed contently; at least all of the former meant that he was still alive. Finally after a minute of standing in place, he felt comfortable enough to check his surroundings. The world around him had shifted to something similar in form to the deep archives royal library, even sporting the musty air of dust-riddled books hanging about like a polluted mist.

“There has to be a better way of doing this,” he grumbled.

Taking one last minute to prepare himself, he started walking at a brisk pace to meet his target.

Strolling along with only one thing on his mind, he swept past towering shelves filled with volumes upon volumes of books, maps, tomes and scrolls. They soared high as trees, almost threatening to break out of the crystalline nighttime sky mural above him. He could only imagine how much they weighed, since angling himself to look up at their peaks hurt his neck.

Breaks in the shelves acted like natural forest clearings, often containing tables littered with papers with incomplete scribbling etched onto them. Sometimes there would be desk with the remnants of some literary adventure spilling over and out its drawers. Sometimes too, there would be office drawers out of place in the middle of clearings, overflowing out at all angles with papers and parchments. He had tried using these as landmarks, but after passing different identical clearings more than few times he had given up.

She had convinced him during their first encounter that their relationship was mutual. He hoped that it would be for the better, but the increasing frequency of his visits and the lack of control over when they would happen were worrisome. He had realized far too late how many cards she carried compared to him, and even worse, was the realization that he had no power or influence to make sure she held her word.

“Trust is hard thing to come by between intelligent beings,” she had remarked, as if she had read his mind during one of their meetings, “it is a shame, don’t you think?”

Yes, it was a shame. But the real shame was how irritating finding her was!

To her it was a simple task, since it all revolved around him following her instructions. Instructions she had so snidely remarked anypony could follow. She would sit in place and do nothing, and he would have to walk around aimlessly until he found her.

Nothing more, nothing less.

To him it was a nuisance, and a real stupid nuisance at that. Why something so indirect, when she could just draw him a map? Or even better: have him arrive right in front of her. Cut out the stupid time spend tumbling through oblivion and have him just arrive. Punctually. Promptly. Properly.

Yes, it was a real pain. It was a pain to be the pawn of an immortal.

He was in far over his head. He had no doubts about that.

His weakness was the reason she had come to him in the first place, and he would rather be dead than become even weaker from her help. Volunteering to be used like a pawn in some long-game between immortals, like so many other ponies probably had been mercilessly condemned to. His pride dictated that he continue, but his rationality (long since put out to the pasture) still hoped for him to abandon his mad scheme and confess.

No. There was no going back.

“You’re late. Shame on you for making a goddess wait, young stallion.”

Yes. There was no going back.

He had arrived sooner than expected, but her tone said clearly that he had not been swift enough.

Hesitating, he remained in place under the dark shadow of a towering bookcase. It was still hard for him to believe that what was in front of him, being seen with his own two eyes, was real. Even if this was the fourth... No, sixth encounter they are sharing.

From the red ornate luxury couch she laid spread upon, she stared back at him with the same alert intensity. He was being watched, no, observed by a pair of teal draconian eyes, attached to a large inky cloud that shimmered and rippled as it floated. Occasionally some equine-esq features would begin to form when she spoke, like a leg or an ear attached to a head, but it would never last long. For whatever reasons she retained that form was something beyond his understanding. He felt like he was staring at something great and powerful, but incredibly dangerous too.

But without warning, she let out an immense lackadaisical yawn that said otherwise.

With his attention still so intently focused on her, she fluttered her teal eyes seductively. "Well? What say you? Did your mother ever teach you manners? And what would your father say, giving a mare such a leer?”

Suddenly feeling self-conscious, the stallion mentally kicked himself for being distracted her charms. He was a grown stallion who worked and lived with not two, but three goddesses of great intellect, wisdom, insight, and beauty every day. There was no need in the world for a fourth!

“I thought you should know, your grace, that the second part of your plan has begun.” He walked over to one of the large shelves surrounding them both, and slipped a volume out from the collection. Like the others he had checked before out of curiosity, he found the book to be blank from cover to cover. The bindings and pages were crisp and pristine, and he suddenly worried that his touch has soiled the celestial nature of something incomprehensible.

“Has it? I cannot believe how long it has been,” the wraith-like shadow said, with awe in her voice. “It has been nearly a year now, yes? How strange it feels; how suddenly time can drag out in this world.”

“Drags? Surely it can’t be that bad?” the stallion asked, pretending to read the book in his hoof intensively so that his eyes would not wander back to her. “Considering your years prior were spent in magical void, I would have imagined that a mere year in your view would be-?”

“No,” she cut him short, “you are correct; a mere planetary rotation is nothing compared to the losses I have endured, and will endure for eternity in the future.”

...Was there a twinge of sadness in her voice? Or was he just imagining it? No; any intelligent creature could emulate emotions to appeal to the empathy of present company, himself included. The cards were still in her hooves. He had to tread lightly, or risk being destroyed.

“I am just anxious to make up for time lost, you must understand.”

“Of course,” he lied.

The monstrosity looked to him, and his eyes met hers again. “Truly?”

“Of course,” he lied again, and looked away to resist the urge to scoff in its face.

Time lost? For an immortal entity? Well, he supposed it did make sense, given that her subjects were all forced onto a much shorter time span than her. Biologically speaking, that was. After all, objectively speaking a ruler could only be valued through how they managed their subjects and property during their time ruling, and not so much about legacies regarding strength of character or charisma. What was a princess without a kingdom? What was a kingdom without subjects? And what empire could last without a unifying-

“Young stallion, I command you to look at me.”

Against his better judgment, he shelved the hardcover shield in his hoof and back onto the shelf before turning around and looking straight at her. He was met with the same teal eyes giving a piercing stare into his own. They were even more profound to look at, since she had reverted herself completely back into something of an inky black mist.

“Enough of our shared banter,” she said. Without warning, a dense cloud of ink separated itself from her, and slowly evaporated to reveal a small table. On the table laid a font of liquid, and he looked in amazement as the ink inside held all the hues of the night sky.

“Since you have come here on your own, I take it you prepared for the next phase?”

The stallion stared at the ink, hesitating to answer. “What would you have me-”

“I shall not shelter your expectations,” two tendrils emerged to act like limbs, crossing each other implacably. He can hear impatience filling her voice too as she spoke. “This is but a slow start down a very long, and merciless road. You are not the first stallion who has volunteered to try and shelter this burden, and I doubt you will be the last. All I can tell you, is that you must be strong. Rising above your limits and retaining your sanity is but the first step of your journey.”

He mulled her words over silently. By now, had he not already committed himself fully to her proposal? Would he not have bothered coming to speak to her again, if he had any doubts? Did he fear for his own life more than those close to him? Hadn’t she always warned him of what he was getting into? Not once had she made any demands, or used her powers to force him into anything (as far as he knew). And surely, she had come to him in the first place because of her own confidence in him.

“What would you have me do?” he asked, with no hesitation this time.

She smiled. He was still honest, and it was nice to see. A good sign. His tragic upbringing had not scarred him, and would only aid him in trials to come.

“Don’t squirm.”

Before he could even scream in protest, the inky cloud leapt from its bedding and swallowed him whole.

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Another day, and another dream.

“Can anypony hear me?” Luna said, her voice neither echoing nor’ reverberating in the endless space of her own dream. “Is anypony out there? Hello?”

Another dream, and another nightmare.

Another nightmare, and another eternity bound to her moon.

It was a depressing thought. The idea that the ruler of the cosmos, mistress of the night, and master over the world of dreams had no control over her own. How many restless days had she spent reliving her vacation to the surface of her moon? Reliving the sinking feeling in her heart and mind, that her own sister had actually carried out her banishment. Her beloved older sister. Her only family. With the Elements of Harmony, no less! The same Elements that had put to rest Discord’s aimless chaotic fun. There was a chance for ponies everywhere to live their lives to the happiest and fullest, bound only by the gravity of the earth they lived on. A world where living creatures could be born and raised in peace and tranquility, before dying.

And she, bound to the moon by magic, would never see that world again.

There was no parole. No time off for good behavior. No visits.

Why? Why did it happen they way it did? All she wanted was to have her work appreciated! The malevolent and malicious forces that hid from the light of the sun always tried to go about their business during her night. How many countless nights had she spent safeguarding the lives of their ponies, just to be forgotten about like some introverted asocial when thanks were to be had!?

Was it wrong to want to be loved!? Why couldn’t--

“Princess? Do you like coriander seeds or turmeric powder? Forgive me, but I always forget.”

Startled out of her own thoughts, Luna’s eyes shot open from surprise. Instinctually she wiped away the tears of rage and frustration that had been forming in her eyes. Looking around, she was still on the surface of the moon.

...Wasn’t she?

Yes, she was. The ground still held its thin layer of pale gray dust. There were endless craters as far as she could see. Shards of frozen water dotted the landscape. The sun and the earth hung in space above her. Still looking around, she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was different. Something indescribable and unfathomable had changed.

There was always a pattern her nightmares followed: it started with nothing, before her torment would start in a few different ways. Some would have her walking through and endless void, with her home always out of her reach. Other nightmares would have her bound to the surface of the moon, through some terrible medium that always restrained her from returning home. Some were even about the evils she and her sister had destroyed before her banishment. This time she had been restrained by chains of enchanted steel that her sister had had her bound in before using the Elements on her. Magic chains short enough to restrain her from leaving the moon, but long enough to let her walk for eternity over its surface.

Until now.

She scratched as the moon’s sandy surface with her own hooves, and felt the heavy weight of the invisible chains still holding her down. She then looked around in confusion, for the source of the voice that had just addressed her. What was happ--

“Princess? Your tea is going to get cold,” a shadow in the shape of a stallion pointed to a porcelain teacup resting on a saucer in front of her hooves. A teacup that hadn’t been there a moment ago, from a set that hadn’t been there as well.

“I made your favorite. Or at least, I think I did. I don’t remember things all too well.”

She looked down at her own hooves again, she saw her silver hoof-guard slippers on each of them. Above them, the entire body of the earth where Equestria existed eclipsed the sun, shadowing them and allowing the millions of stars in the universe to shine gloriously. Her body felt light, no longer weighed down by magic, and she spread her wings out and felt her blood running through them.

“Who...?” she began to ask, but the shadow pointed to the porcelain china between her hooves insistently. Impatiently. Demandingly.

With her magic, she brought it up to her lips and took a modest sip. She forced aside the horrible sinking feeling in her heart, and finished her entire cup without so much as tasting a single drop. Gingerly, afraid that she would somehow break it, she placed the cup back down on its saucer and pushed it away.

“Was it good?” the shadow stallion asked, now sitting on top of a red and white checkered blanket. She nodded in silence, now terrified that whatever was happening would stop if she didn’t obey him. Going for years without any interaction could drive a living creature mad, but somehow, she had retained her sanity for a thousand years on the moon’s surface. Perhaps it was out of spite for her sister, and out of spite for her ponies that did not stand up for her, that she had kept living.

Yes... She had lived for revenge. Not just revenge, Luna thought, but justice as well. When she returned, she would have justice. Or so she had told herself, over and over again. For a thousand years, her sorrow and anger had festered and rotted her heart. Days and nights of constant brooding had made her incapable of thinking about anything else.

Revenge and justice. To trade places with her older sister. No negotiations.

It didn’t matter to her that the world could not survive without the sun. Without her older sister. Pegasi. Unicorns. Earth Ponies. Griffons. Dragons. Changelings. Dogs. Monsters and beasts of all shapes and sizes. If they could not appreciate her domain, and her power, then their lives were already forfeit. She was a goddess, and what were they? Fragile. Their lives were so very fragile, and she relished the few times Tia and herself had made examples of their power.

For monsters who were used to dominating others, it was the fear in their eyes she relished. The smell of the sweat from when they ran was like an intoxicating perfume. Primal, and unabated by rationality. Their reaction to a pony, with some physical differences to so many others they had bullied, eaten, beaten, or tortured, performing an act of utter annihilation unrivaled by anything they had ever dreamed.

But those times were now long since gone...

The shadow stallion reached out, and from nothing a wicker picnic basket appeared for him to fish around for its contents. Without speaking he pulled out several bowls of a matching set, and a larger glass container of something of a vibrant orange color. After that, he fished out some more silverware and divided it between them both.

“I hope it’s still hot,” he tapped the side of the large glass jar. “I had the royal kitchen make this up. I know how you love vegetable curry and all, but I can’t imagine that it tastes good cold.”

Those two words alone caused her eyes to perk up, and she recognized the orange mixture in the larger glass jar immediately. How far had the culinary arts advanced in her absence? Ponies lived in countless different parts of the world, and so too, the things they brought with them to trade in Equestria were more strange and exotic as she could have imagined. Vegetable curry had been one of many thing Tia had insisted she try after her return. At first Luna hadn’t sure whether her older sister was trying to poison her or not from the vibrant color of the dish, but it only took a few bites for her addiction to start.

“I... I’m sure it will be fine.” Luna offered, still unsure of what she should be doing.

The shadow stallion smiled at her as he reached into the basket. He pulled out a smaller wicker container which he handed to her. “I certainly hope so. Anything for royalty should be more than fine.”

In her mind, Luna knew that anything different from her nightmares should be a welcomed reprieve. But that was still something that she couldn’t place a hoof on...

Was it ill-intentions, coming from the shadow in the shape of a stallion? Did she just not know who he was, or could she just ask? What if he was somehow hiding himself from her? Was this part some larger problem? Was she under the influence of some magic enchantment, and being controlled in the real world? Or maybe Chrysalis was attempting to invade Canterlot again, and she was being held captive and unconscious in one of those disgusting Changeling silk cocoons?

Opening the container, she was greeted by the sight of boiled rice. She inhaled the some of the steam venting from the boiled grains, but didn’t smell anything. Just like before with the tea, she could sense nothing coming from the food in front of her. She could feel the hard but flexible grains of the waved wicker the rice was being held in when she picked it up, but could neither feel, sense, or smell the rice within.

Reaching over and around the blanket they were sharing, Luna slipped off her silver hoof-guard and scratched the surface of the moon. It felt coarse and grainy under her hoof. The sands in Equestria were soft and smooth, but the surface of her moon was rough and jagged. The dust and sand of her moon was intrusive and irritating, yet, feeling it with her foreleg now she remembered it being a lot worse...

“Princess, if you don’t eat, it will get cold.”

“Thank you, but I--” Luna was snapped out of her thoughts again, this time by the sound of music. A piano. Was somepony playing the piano on her moon? In her dream? She looked around for the source, and on the blanket she was sharing a small record player was spinning a record.

“Do you like it?” the stallion asked, a bit timidly. “I don’t think silence would be appropriate while we had our picnic on the moon.”

“Picnic on the moon?” she repeated, and he nodded obligingly.

“Yes. It’s been so very long, hasn’t it?” He passed the jar of vegetable curry her way, and held his head down low before her. “Please... Don’t be mad at them. That is to say, at us, your highness.”

“What? Mad at who?”

“At everyone. Anything,” the shadow stallion raised his hoof, pointing to the world in the sky. She looked up to the world, and the stars glimmered in space around them. “Please don’t be mad at us for wanting to be free from you.”

“Free from me?” Luna asked. He nodded at her, and moved back to his corner of the blanket slowly. “From me?” Luna repeated again, the weight of the two simple words together felt just as heavy as the chains from her nightmares. She shook her head, “I don’t understand. What is this all of this? Where am I? What is going on!?”

“You’re in a dream,” the shadow stallion picked up his own tea cup with his hoof, and took a sip of its contents. “I’d wager you already knew that.”

“Whose dream?” Luna pressed, scooting herself closer to him. “Mine?”

“No, mine.” The shadow shrugged empathetically. “Or maybe not. I dream every night about holding a live fish in my hooves.”

Luna stopped in her tracks with a look of elegant amazement and distaste, and the music stopped too. “You do what?” she demanded.

“I dream about holding a live fish in my hooves.”

“What kind of fish?” Luna inquired sternly of the shadow stallion.

“I don’t know,” the shadow stallion shrugged again. “I can’t tell one kind of fish from another.”

She stared down at the shadow stallion with a suspicious and narrow squint. There was something familiar about the enigma before her, but she couldn’t place her hoof on it. “In which hoof do you hold it?”

“It varies,” answered the shadow stallion. “Yes. It varies with the fish.”

“Ah-hah!” Luna glared at the shadow stallion with a calculating smirk. She had caught him right where she wanted him: a contradiction. “If you can’t tell one fish from another, then how do you know which fish you’re holding in your hooves?” She let out a laugh in triumph, and crossed her forelegs sternly in front of him.

“Because you tell me,” the shadow stallion answered without cracking a smile. He reached out for her hoof and planted a kiss onto it, bowing his head as he did. “You’re always in my dreams, princess.”

Luna felt her face flush from embarrassment, and she quickly pulled her hoof out from his. Resisting the urge to slap him, she restrained herself to glaring at him with another stare of cold, unforgiving resentment. She hardly considered herself prudish, but who was he to act so intimate with her? “Enough of these games,” she demanded of him through thin lips. “I demand you tell me what you’ve done to my dream!”

“You mean your nightmare?”

“Yes! Er, no! I mean--” Luna shook her head, and glared at him for a third time. “No! Who are you!?” she thrust a hoof forward to push him, and to her surprise, his body seemed to have some weight behind it. “What did you mean that you were sick of me!?”

The shadow stallion tapped his chin with one of his hooves, “Would you believe me if I told you the truth?”

“That depends,” Luna countered, “In my experience, when somepony asks me if I would like the truth, their forthcoming answer is usually not the truth.”

“Very well then,” suddenly without warning, the shadow stallion stood up on his hind legs and threw his forelegs outward as if preparing to engulf her in a massive hug. “I am a deity that resides in all of your subjects. The god that ponies rely on to change the present into the future they desire. My name,” he paused dramatically, before sitting back down in the same withdrawn pose as before, “is Possibility.”

“My, how poetic,” Luna said before pausing, her sulking ire turning to melancholy. She frowned irritably, as though everything so far were all his fault. “You must be a romantist, to say something like that so shamelessly.” The shadow stallion scratched the back of his head in embarrassment, and she turned away regarding him with only one eye.

“Should I call you by your name?”

“If you would like,” he nodded eagerly. “Just Possibility will do, for now.”

“For now?”

“For now,” Possibly bowed to her again, “your highness. We will be seeing each other often in the future, from now on.”

“I doubt that,” Luna scoffed, and she thrust her foreleg outward at him. “Because the first thing I’m going to do once I wake up, is find out who you are, and how you’ve managed to invade my privacy. And then there will be a fresh cell opened in the royal dungeon for me to throw you in personally!”

The shadow stallion wilted visibly from her threat, “That seems rather cruel. Can’t you just let me off with a stern warning?”

“I’ll have you know that invading the privacy of royalty is punishable by exile.”

“That seems rather cruel as well.” The shadow stallion cocked his head on its side in curiosity. “Hey, now. Don’t you invade your subjects minds every now and then? Through their dreams too?”

Luna gawked at him, wondering if she had just been subtly accused of voyeurism.

“That is not the same! I am responsible for safeguarding the mental health of all of my subjects!”

“Oh, I get it,” Possibility reached for his tea and took a long sip. He nodded to himself, seeming quite pleased over something Luna did not understand. “That’s a Catch-22. I see what the problem is.”

“A what?” Luna asked.

“I said,” Possibility reached over to the teapot to pour himself another glass, “that it’s a Catch-22.”

Before he could reach it, Luna purposefully pulled the teapot out of his reach with her magic. She poured herself another glass before placing it back down near him. “And just what are you accusing me of?”

“I’m not accusing you of anything,” Possibility reached into the picnic basket and lifted out a small bowl of sugar, “I’m just saying, that your responsibilities are a Catch-22.”

Luna took a sip of her tea, and was met with the bitter but sweet flavor she was accustomed to drinking right before midnight struck. It was a brief respite in her battle for supremacy, both on the royal throne and in her dream, and it felt wonderful from the moment it touched her lips and slid down her throat. Carefully, she placed her cup back down on its saucer and reached for the teapot to pour herself another cup.

“I do not know what a ‘Catch-22’ is,” she admitted to him after drinking another cup of tea, “are you going to tell me?”

“I apologize princess, but it will have to be another time. It is time for you to hold the night court.”

Luna looked around at the dead landscape of her dream. “So soon?”

The shadow stallion nodded. “Mmm. Time flies when you are having fun, yes?”

“That is not what I would call it,” Luna said, as she stood up and looked around the surface of her faux moon. Up in space, the sun was beginning to peek around the edges of the earth, illuminating Equestria in a soft inviting glow. The stars glimmered too, and she knew what she would have to do. Standing up, she gave Possibility one last quizzical and judgmental stare as she unfurled her wings and prepared to take off into space.

“...Princess?”

Luna looked back to him one last time over her own wings, and pawed at the dusty surface of the moon impatiently.

“...Yes?”

Possibility stayed quiet, as he began to pack up the remains of their picnic into the basket.

“Do not be afraid to listen to your heart. No matter what your sister may say.”

Without waiting to hear another word, Luna pushed herself off and began to fly home.

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