Moonshards, by Stripes


                                            [Copied from https://pastebin.com/2SFXZW8Q]


                                            >The sun was just about to set when you arrived home to a rather unforeseen mess.

                                            >She must've gone through every drawer, desk and wardrobe in her search.

                                            >...and she slaughtered one of your pillows.

                                            >Sighing, you head to the patio.

                                            >Of course, out there the alicorn laid on her lounge chair in usual order.

                                            >And with a feather resting between her fetlocks.

                                            >Calmly you take a seat next to her.

                                            "Luna?"

                                            >An ear flicks.

                                            "Luna, did uh, a tornado possibly go through in here? Because I can't really remember leaving home in a state like this."

                                            >Your sarcasm was thicker than syrup.

                                            >Slowly you begin stroking her back, tense at first but quickly relaxing under your touch.

                                            "Ah girl... I know you really like that old thing... but you know why I hide it, remember?"

                                            >A low whinny escapes her and a dimmed eye fixates on you.

                                            "So you don't loose it, like when it fell between the seats in the couch. Remember?"

                                            >She nods meekly.

                                            "Now, I'm not mad at you... but you have to trust me with it. I've always given it back to you, haven't I?"

                                            >She sighs, then nods meekly.

                                            >"...forgive my i-impudence, master."

                                            >She's shuddering.

                                            >A few gentle strokes over her smooth neck seems to negate it minimally.

                                            "You don't have to call me that Luna. Just Anon."

                                            >Unfortunately, Luna was a kind of a hand-me-down pony. It meant she wasn't 100% anymore.

                                            >Whatever jackass owner before you did to her... a mystery, but still not really.

                                            >"F-f-forgive me ma-m-mah..."

                                            >Fuck she's starting to tremble.

                                            >Quickly you hug her slender neck and push her close, her head resting under your chin.

                                            "Schhh, it's alright Luna."

                                            >Over and over you whisper and cradle her through the attack, just hoping it'll pass.

                                            >Hope she can get through this.

                                            >Hope you do.

                                            >By the time she finally calms down, the sun had gone down. Must've lost track of time.

                                            "Let's get you inside."

                                            >She doesn't reply. Poor thing had cried herself to sleep.

                                            >Gently and awkwardly you managed to lift her, fireman-style and got her to your couch. Once she'd been tucked in you headed to the kitchen, but remembered the mess in your room.

                                            >Better gather up all the down and feathers in there before anything.

                                            >...why did she have an obsession with feathers, and only white ones?

                                            >And how do you probe about it without twisting her arm any further?

                                            >Again you hope you and her could get through this.

                                            >These down feathers were a pain to gather up.

                                            >So damn light just the draft of your own hand approaching send them flying away.

                                            >Eventually you've probably gotten all feathers and just press it down the bin and turn to the next mess.

                                            >Wardrobe's gotten an easy treatment and left mostly with its stuff where it should be. But not the sock, underwear and shirt drawers.

                                            >They were aalll over the place. Very literally.

                                            >Some books had also been torn down from the bookcase. She searched high and low.

                                            >While putting those back in their shelves, a faint humming catches your attention.

                                            >Behind you, two pair of socks flies away in a blue light and down back in the drawer.

                                            >It takes a moment to make the connection, and indeed in the doorway a blue pony head barely peeks in.

                                            >Head low and ears flat, its more of a guilty dog than pony.

                                            >And when you try meeting her gaze she jerks away with a wince.

                                            >...you want to just tell her she doesn't have to help cleaning up.

                                            >But what would that do for her? Scolding for taking responsibility? Rip up even more anguish from her past?

                                            >...fuck.

                                            >So you let her do her thing. It's actually impressive how magic folded and placed everything back neatly, and quickly.

                                            >So quickly when the last drawer had been closed, Luna disappeared again.

                                            >Peering after her, she settles by the patio door nestled up like a cat.

                                            >...the first nights she were here, Luna would only sleep outside.

                                            >Were she "belonged", her own words.

                                            >Only yesterday had she begrudgingly slept indoors, right by the patio.

                                            >Still fucked up having to convince her for it.

                                            >With a deep sigh you make your way over to her. One big blue eye tracks wearily all the way.

                                            >Surprisingly, Luna's the one to speak up first.

                                            >"Forgive me master. I should have not done this."

                                            "Well-"

                                            >"I swear it will never happen again."

                                            "Uh-"

                                            >"F-forgive me, I meant not to speak out of turn!"

                                            >Jesus, barely an hour of calm before shit hits the fan again. Before she starts tearing up you lean in over her and desperately rub her head and withers to calm her.

                                            "It's alright girl. I'm-I'm not mad at you, for anything."

                                            >Slowly Luna relaxes, but she's still averting her eyes from yours.

                                            >Damn.

                                            >Two panic attacks in one evening was exhausting.

                                            >Oh yeah... you were supposed to make dinner the moment you got through the door.

                                            >And that was...

                                            >Two hours ago.

                                            "...hey Luna, you hungry?"

                                            >Silence.

                                            "I'm too lazy for anything fancy. I'm thinking waffles, you like waffles?"

                                            >Still no respo-

                                            >"...yes."

                                            >...Oooh.

                                            >That just happened.

                                            >And you can't stop smiling.

                                            >Like the next Masterchef you pour in milk and oil in the pre-mix.

                                            >Maximum effort.

                                            >"...anything I can do master?"

                                            >Stop calling me master, you wanted to say.

                                            >But her hysterical fit moments ago reminds you, and hold back the thought.

                                            "Uh, sure. Can you set up the table?"

                                            >Plates and utensils flies out of the cupboards in response.

                                            >One plate however dangles hesitantly.

                                            >Luna is looking at you, as if-

                                            >Right.

                                            "You can sit at the table."

                                            >"T-thank you master."

                                            >To ask permission, every time...

                                            >This mare really would be a piece of work.

                                            >The smell of fresh waffles helps boosting your mood, strengthening your resolve.

                                            >You would see Luna better.

                                            >Speaking of, the alicorn had opted for a slightly new and strange way of sitting. She'd taken the two chairs on her side next to each other and laid down.

                                            >Granted your chairs were made in a century when asses were scrawnier than yours and just not ergonomic...

                                            >But she made herself comfortable on her own accord!

                                            >Hell fucking yes.

                                            >Luna looks a little nervous about her innovation, but you flash a big smile and nods happily. All's good.

                                            "Alright, let's chow down! I'm starving!"

                                            >You slam down a mountain of waffles on the table. Blueberry jam and whipped cream follow soon after.

                                            >Luna doesn't share your enthusiasm as much and waits to take her first until you're halfway on number two.

                                            >With dainty, ladylike bites.

                                            >It's really adorable.

                                            "Good?"

                                            >"..yes," she nods. "Thank you very much for the waffle."

                                            "You can have more if you want."

                                            >"More...? But I-"

                                            >Luna shifts in her seats.

                                            >"...your room, t'was bad. I was bad..."