Follows A Little Spark: Sc.34-36


                                            >You lift the wing again, flexing and rotating it at the shoulder around where the test article sits on its makeshift stand.

                                            >Twilight stands on top of the work table, her nose practically inside the shoulder joint, watching the open gearboxes as it articulates.

                                            >You’re looking up at her, at this angle, giving you a rare view of her belly while she’s standing.

                                            >And some other anatomy, underneath her.

                                            >Not that you’re going to tell her.

                                            >You’re just trying to focus on her work.

                                            >You mean, your work.

                                            >Shit.

                                            >“They’re all moving fine, Anon.”

                                            >This isn’t even the first time she’s got you like this, if you’re being honest with yourself. Ever since she left for the Crystal Empire, you’d realized how big a void her absence made in your life.

                                            >Since she’d come back, your work had been suffering for her constant innocent distractions, just by being in the same room.

                                            >Even in your dreams you found yourself unable to work around her, like the one Luna pulled you out of awhile back.

                                            >”Anon?”

                                            >Your time with her was, as the song went, as sweet as any harmony.

                                            >Of course she knew all about harmony.

                                            >For the past couple days, she’d been doing most of the gruntwork, while you took every opportunity to distract her just as bad as she distracted you, with anything from idle chitchat to physical contact.

                                            >She’d never once objected.

                                            >”Anon, I’m glad you think I’m so engrossing, but you’re embarrassing me.”

                                            >You shake your head a bit to return to the present.

                                            >You’ve been staring into her eyes for you don’t know how long now; even your random motions with the wing you held had stopped.

                                            “Sorry, I just… Well, you…”

                                            >She smiles at you, and in your eyes you get a glimpse of a reflection of everything you feel. “I know. You’ve been going out of your way to remind me of, uh, me, every chance you can.” She giggles, then. “I never thought that you being reduced to another useless stallion could make me like you more. I still hope this condition of yours is temporary.”

                                            “Yes ma’am it is. I can work as soon as you leave the room.”

                                            >She laughs again, then looks to the shoulder joint. “Like I said, it’s working as it should.”

                                            “Shining said the wings felt like they took a lot of effort to move, and he couldn’t hold them in place without the brace.”

                                            >”We might need more powerful motors. It’s not a problem with the gearing or the joints.”

                                            “We’d have to stagger the mounting, making it bulkier and heavier.”

                                            >She shakes her head, then lays down on the table, body upright and legs beneath her, to be at eye level with you. “Magically decreasing its weight might be our only option.”

                                            “That’s another spell that needs to be recast during periodic maintenance.”

                                            >”It’s a much easier spell than the come-to-life spell we’re using to control it and run the powerplant. I doubt any unicorn capable of the latter wouldn’t know the former.”

                                            “Yeah it’s just… another thing that needs to be taken care of. Careless casting could lead to two different maintenance schedules. That could lead to things giving out while still in-flight, and that can’t happen.”

                                            >Twilight tilts her head down, and speaks with a gentler tone. “Anon, that might happen anyway. You can’t make something foolproof.”

                                            >You rub the bridge of your nose and sigh.

                                            “It has to be as good as we can make it. Yeah, I guess that’s how we’ll have to do. We’ll add the mechanical lock as well; that way if it gets heavier unexpectedly it can at least stay in flight configuration.”

                                            >”What if they disengage the lock mid-flight?”

                                            “It can be managed by a sort of weighted relay. Contacts are closed when the lightening spell is active, held there by a spring. If the spell wears off, the weight on the contact is too heavy for the spring, and they open. Cuts the signal to unlock. If they roll upside-down or some other maneuvers it may close again, but that’s a much slimmer chance of an already slim chance, or a conscious action on their part.”

                                            >Twilight looks over to the elongated hump that makes up the unit’s back. A smaller, more streamlined version of the workshop’s power generator hums away inside, though presently disconnected from everything. “Well, you certainly have enough power for it. Why did you design it with so much excess capacity? Not only is it enough for this bigger design – the ones we’ll make for pegasi won’t be this heavy, spell or no spell – but it’s larger than necessary even for this.”

                                            “Better safe than sorry?”

                                            >”Anon, if my math is right, this has over five times the output we’d need for the final product. If you’re worried about weight, you can start there.”

                                            “I wasn’t intending it for use on the final product.”

                                            >”Why did you make the test rig this way? Surely you weren’t thinking of using my brother as the test pilot way back then.”

                                            >You shrug.

                                            >”I swear, you’re going to have a whole box full of parts you’ve over-”

                                            >She stops , an ear swiveling towards the door.

                                            “What’s wrong?”

                                            >She grins. “The guards are talking about you.”

                                            >You stand and move closer to the door, to listen in.

                                            >”I helped him move everything here! Besides, he can spin a yarn as well as I; you should have heard the stuff he threw back at us when I told him some of those rumors I started. We’re practically best friends already. If either of us are going to stay here alone, it should be me.”

                                            >Tall Tail is the royal guard unicorn assigned to the embassy during the day shift. The stallion normally stands outside the front door, the one leading directly to the workshop.

                                            >”Well I’ve seen him in his s-socks!”

                                            >Catnip, on the other hand, isn’t a royal guard at all. The mare is one of Luna’s. Luna insisted on having the embassy under twenty-four hour watch by her own, and this poor bat drew the short straw for the day shift. You haven’t seen her without her sun-goggles once.

                                            >”He’s always wearing socks.”

                                            >”No shoes, just his socks! In the middle of the night. He walked right up to me in them. You can’t get more intimate than that! I stay.”

                                            >Alright, maybe you’ve seen her once without her sun-goggles.

                                            >Twilight cocks her head. “What are they talking about?”

                                            >You look back and respond in barely a loud whisper.

                                            “I think they’re arguing who should leave first for the evening shift change. Or which I like more. I don’t know. They don’t usually argue like this.”

                                            >”Wow, you night watch get all the fun, huh?” the guard outside says.

                                            >”W-w-what’s that supposed to mean?”

                                            >”Oh, y’know, seeing strange creatures in sleepwear. Maybe with some of the other usual nightly activities.”

                                            >“Shut up!”

                                            >”I’m sure you get to hear which ponies are enjoying the late hours.”

                                            >”SHUT UP!”

                                            >”You lot can hang upside-down, can’t you? Maybe you get a peak in a-”

                                            >”AAAAAAA!”

                                            >”Wait,” Tall Tail says, “are you… is it that time?”

                                            >Catnip doesn’t respond.

                                            >”You know, the few mares in the Guard get time off for that.”

                                            >”Our lives for her. Always on watch. A-always.”

                                            >”Hold on, lemme go find a griffin for you.”

                                            >”SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP!”

                                            >You and Twilight exchange glances. She hides a grin and quiet laughter behind a wing.

                                            >You hear a thump from the roof from where Catnip usually stands watch. ”Just because I like cats doesn’t mean- what was that?”

                                            >That one thump becomes many as Catnip gallops across the embassy roof.

                                            >Twilight’s grin vanishes a moment before she herself does, in a pop of magic.

                                            >Then you hear a mare scream.

                                            >Oh fuck.

                                            >Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK.

                                            >You’re already halfway down the hall before you realize that wasn’t Twilight.

                                            >That doesn’t really help your nerves, but it is some comfort.

                                            >When you get to the long room you’ve re-purposed to a testing area and common room, you notice the door at the far end is wide open.

                                            >Beyond is a unicorn trapped in a magenta dome, thrashing against its walls.

                                            >As you’re walking over, Catnip drops from the roof between the dome and the door, rearing back with wings spread.

                                            >When you get to the door, you see its knob neatly disassembled nearby.

                                            >So that’s what this was about.

                                            >Magic would be pretty useful for breaking and entering, wouldn’t it?

                                            >Twilight stands off to the side, looking serious.

                                            >Catnip’s wings are still spread, her nose almost against the dome, fangs bared.

                                            >You walk to her side and jab a thumb into the paw-print on her flank, causing her to jump a full six feet to the side.

                                            >Guess she really is hot and bothered, today.

                                            >You crouch in front of the dome and the scrabbling unicorn inside, then look at Twilight.

                                            “Can I talk to her, in there?”

                                            >She nods, and you look back to the wannabe intruder.

                                            >She looks really young, probably hasn’t had that cutie mark for long. Maybe some teen thinking she was hot shit because she could take apart locks with her mind. Stupid fillies doing stupid things.

                                            “You’re one dumb motherfucker, ain’t’cha?

                                            >She stops her frantic flailing and looks up in confusion. “What?”

                                            >Yeah, that insult probably doesn’t translate well.

                                            “Both guards still here, Ms. Superweapon over there inside, and you’re itching to break in just after sundown? Not a professional, huh? How’d you even get onto the palace grounds?”

                                            >“I w-was let in!”

                                            >”By who?” Twilight asks.

                                            >”The prince!”

                                            >You share a look with Twilight, before returning your attention to the filly.

                                            “Tell us something we don’t know.”

                                            >She just looks at you in confusion again.

                                            >“What did he want you to do?”

                                            >”J-Just take papers, burn them. Take some stuff apart or smash it, I don’t know.”

                                            “Really scraping the bottom of the barrel with you, huh?”

                                            >She nods rapidly.

                                            “At least you’re honest.”

                                            >You stand, hands on your hips. She flails back against the dome again, whinnying.

                                            “Pathetic.”

                                            >You point to Tall Tail, then, who’s at Catnip’s side.

                                            “Take her in and do… whatever you do. I don’t know. Just remember she didn’t actually do anything but take apart a doorknob. Catnip, uh, take the night to relax, I guess. That’s an order. Not that I can order you around.”

                                            >As soon as the bubble drops, the filly tries to take off, but Tall Tail wraps a loop of magic around her legs before she can get too far. He then simply starts dragging her through the dirt.

                                            >Guess you’re not the only stallion here who can do some work.

                                            >Catnip just looks a cross between chagrined and relieved. She bows to you and flies off.

                                            >Twilight walks to your side once they’re gone. “I could have handled that, you know.”

                                            “Yeah, well, my embassy. How’d I do?”

                                            >She looks at you, brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

                                            “If I was back home, and she got inside? I would have had grounds to kill her, and the weapon to do it too, magic or no magic.”

                                            >“What?!” She looks shocked at this.

                                            “Yeah. It’s a rougher world. But here’s not there. Trying to do things your way. You ponies seem big on compassion and forgiveness.”

                                            >She looks back to the two retreating forms of the guard and his new prisoner. “You did fine.”

                                            “On that note, I gotta go forgive the shit out of a certain noble.”

                                            >You start to walk back inside, but Twilight runs around you, blocking your way. “No, wait! I can handle him, Anon.”

                                            “I told you in the beginning I wasn’t going to do that. I’ve let this go on long enough.”

                                            >You walk back inside. Twilight follows you, magically replacing and reassembling the doorknob as she passes it almost as an afterthought. “Let me, Anon. Please, he’s a unicorn, and you have no way of dealing with magic.”

                                            “I just grab the horn, right?”

                                            >“If he lets you get close enough!”

                                            >She was right, though. You did need something to defend yourself with, if it came down to it.

                                            >As you pass your workbench, you pick up the closest screwdriver in reach and drop it in a pocket.

                                            >It’s not even a big one, but it’s something.

                                            “Besides, I have this.”

                                            >”And just what are you going to do with it?”

                                            “I don’t know. I’ll think of something. Maybe he’s just got a few screws loose.”

                                            >You exit the embassy, Twilight hot on your heels.

                                            >“Anon, it’ll be fine, just let me-”

                                            >You wheel on her then, stopping her cold.

                                            “If you go charging up there, chewing out the highest noble in the palace who doesn’t move the fucking sky, that’s gonna be hell for your reputation around here. That’s something you gotta be aware of, since you run your own little slice of this queendom or whatever the fuck it is, and you’re doing it enough harm shacking yourself up with me. I’m gonna go up there so you can stay out of it.”

                                            >”I care about you more!”

                                            >On the surface, that declaration makes you feel pretty good. But you knew she felt that way about you already.

                                            >You weren’t expecting it, further down, to make you feel bad.

                                            >Can’t she see how much you care about her, in turn? You wanted to avoid forcing her into some magical honor duel with the Prince in the middle of Canterlot, especially considering how wrong it is for a mare to beat up a stallion around these parts. If she was right that it wouldn’t be too terrible a hit to her standing, you wanted to save her even that.

                                            >No, maybe she doesn’t see that.

                                            >Like her brother says, you never told her, no matter how she’d been making you feel lately.

                                            >You kneel down in front of her, and bring a hand around the back of her head, fingers through her mane, holding her close to you.

                                            “I’m really happy you want to protect me, Twilight, but let me do this. Our work needs someone to look after it, before Catnip’s replacement comes back. Who knows how many gremlins he has crawling around the place. Please? For me?”

                                            >You hold her gaze until she dips her head slightly in acknowledgment.

                                            >”Fine. But if you take too long, I’m going after you.”

                                            “I wouldn’t expect any less.”

                                            >You press your nose to hers, then kiss where they’d touched, drawing a faint nicker from her. Wrapping your other arm around her neck, you pull her head in beside yours.

                                            >She presses the side of her head into you, and wraps her wings around you. You feel her tongue on your neck, just above your collar.

                                            >Maybe this time it’s you who needs to tell her about cultural differences in lewd gestures.

                                            “Now don’t worry about me. You ponies rarely have a violent bone in your body. Everything’s going to turn out fine.”

                                            >”I’m only letting you do this because you wont be happy otherwise.”

                                            “I know.”

                                            >You hold her there a moment longer, running your hands through her mane. You hope she doesn’t feel your heart about to burst out of your chest. Love, sure, but at this point mostly nerves.

                                            >But why be nervous? She’d made her own stance known plenty of times already.

                                            “Twilight?”

                                            >”Yes?”

                                            “Love ya.”

                                            >You say it playfully, putting a cheerful spin on the words like it was the most casual thing in the world, an umpteenth restatement of something already made clear.

                                            >She’d already made it clear to you, after all, even if she hadn’t said it precisely that way. Can’t let her feel left out.

                                            >It’s enough to shock her motionless.

                                            >You stand wearing a shit-eating grin.

                                            >She looks up at you with wide eyes and no words.

                                            >Then you spin on a heel and walk off towards the palace.

                                            >“Wait… You can’t just leave, after that!”

                                            >You don’t even turn your head to call back.

                                            “Watch me!”

                                            >”Anon!”

                                            >You flash a thumbs-up over a shoulder as you walk away, her whinny at your back.

                                            >The sun had already set by the time your little intruder had shown her head, and by now it’s dark.

                                            >Tall Tail would be too busy handling the prisoner. The Royal Guard may send someone off double-time to tell Celestia once she is processed, but you probably still have a little while before then, if ‘then’ is even while Celestia was still awake. It’s sunbutt bedtime soon.

                                            >You hope Catnip is too heat-addled to do anything other than what you commanded. Luna is definitely up by now, and likely in one of her several meetings with the bureaucrats before her dreamwalking. If Catnip had put the word out, a nightwatchmare could be barging into one any moment, but in her current state that’s a big if.

                                            >Either one would get a princess much more powerful than Twilight into your business, one you’re a lot less likely to be able to stop.

                                            >If you want to get out of this with your pride intact, you need to hurry.

                                            >You know where his office is; top floor of the household wing. Your embassy guard’s argument over the evening shift change means that it’s likely already carried out elsewhere in the palace. Luna’s guards are more likely to do you favors and help than Celestia’s, so this is to your advantage.

                                            >You’re not stopped once before arriving at his office.

                                            >Your nerves haven’t let up since leaving Twilight. If anything, they’ve gotten worse. This confrontation has been a long time coming.

                                            >As you suspected, it’s Night Watch posted at the door.

                                            >You jerk a thumb to the door.

                                            “He inside?”

                                            >The bat-stallion nods back.

                                            “A’ight, cool.”

                                            >You open the door hard enough for it to slam into the wall beside it.

                                            >Prince Blueblood, at his desk, looks up in alarm.

                                            “Hey buddy, lets have a little chat, stallion to stallion.”

                                            >He narrows his eyes, as you hear the guard outside close the door behind you. “You’re no stallion, human.”

                                            “Twilight would disagree.”

                                            >His expression doesn’t change, but you can tell by the way his ears move you struck a nerve there.

                                            >You pick up the chair in front of his desk and spin it around, so when you sit in it, you’re leaning forward on its backrest.

                                            >A lot of magic works on line of sight, Twilight had told you. Gotta protect the vitals.

                                            “Wanna guess why I’m here?”

                                            >”I have no idea, and I’d rather you weren’t.”

                                            “Tough shit, mate. A friend of mine met up with a friend of yours, today. What street did you pick her up off of? I know I’m just a sheltered colt here in the palace, but I didn’t think Canterlot had the kinds of slums to produce those types.”

                                            >”I will not tolerate your insults to our city!”

                                            “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about them? More passive-aggressive bullshit? Don’t think I didn’t know it was you fucking up my shit all along. I just didn’t give enough of a fuck about you to do anything about it.”

                                            >He rears back and plants his forehooves on the desk, using the extra height to loom over you.

                                            >”You think you’re the greatest thing to enter this palace since Luna’s return, yet all you do is make a mockery of Celestia by standing at her side, and taking resources that would be better put towards productive ends. You almost killed Shining Armor yesterday, and that’s merely the most recent of your offenses! Your contraptions are dangerous, and I will not condone their development!”

                                            “Dangerous? You oversee the kitchens, you know all those griffin imports I eat. I’m a fucking predator. I’m surprised your concern is about my contraptions, instead of me. Back home I’d see a cow and start thinking about lunch. Some humans ate horses, on my world.

                                            >He doesn’t flinch. “Is that a threat?”

                                            “I’m not dumb enough to threaten you; I know stallions on this world are the last line of defense of the family, and you’ve got magic to boot. I’m pretty sure you could kill me before that guard outside could intervene. But I’m making a point. What other sapient carnivores do you have here, griffins and some sorta cat? One’s a pursuit predator, the other an ambush predator. You outpace them and win, or you give ‘em a swift kick and they scamper back to the shadows. Your stalling at the smithy, that was slowing me down. That didn’t work. Your shitty little saboteur, that was supposed to be your kick, wasn’t it? Humans don’t work like that. We’re endurance predators, in for the long haul, so know I’m not going anywhere.”

                                            ”But I’ll tell you something else about us. Back home, me? Men? We’re the mares, except we’re really, really bad at sharing. Since I’m maresculine enough to not be stupidly impulsive, and you ponies are peaceful enough to not kill anything that pisses you off, we’re going to discuss this reasonably.”

                                            >”And if I don’t wish to be reasonable? If I’m… stupidly impulsive, by your words?”

                                            “Then I do my level best to use this screwdriver in my pocket to geld you, and that’s not a threat either. What the fuck is your problem with me? I made a unicorn fucking fly, and he survived the trip. I know you’ve heard the rumors of me almost killing princesses, and you probably saw that goofball bounce off the palace wall yesterday, but damnit, I haven’t hurt anypony. Save your fucking sanctimony.”

                                            >He sits down in his chair again.

                                            >Message fucking received; now the real progress begins.

                                            >”Why do you think anything you make is worthwhile? Your grandiose speech when you pitched them to us was the height of puffery, and I deal with the royal court all day. Your arrogance is astounding.”

                                            “Not even the first time I’ve heard that, buddy, though I thought you’d be more amenable to my plight. The idea I’m a stallion so I can’t do anything worthy is getting pretty old, but hearing it from another stallion who rates higher than a no-name guard in the hallway hurts. No camaraderie among colts, here?”

                                            >”Do what you like, but stallions have one responsibility above all others. One you are not capable of, making you less than nobody. So yes, you are more dangerous than your inventions, because as a predator, you prey. Not on any pony, but on ponykind, and its future.”

                                            “If not with my creations, then how?”

                                            >”In this very palace – east wing, fourth floor, south hall, room three – is the first natural born alicorn this world has ever seen. And she’s not ours. She belongs to a country that didn’t exist until a couple years ago! By pursuing a princess, you deny all of Equestria that opportunity.” He leans over his desk. “You deny us our proper rulers. And from what I’ve heard of your world, I suspect that’s your aim!”

                                            >You lean back and bark out a laugh.

                                            “So you’ve read my file! Trust me, buddy, I’ve been thinking on that one myself. Thing is, they’re fucking immortal. I’m only tying them down for a few decades, at best. You’ve got Cadance beat three to one, and while I’m sure a princess of love can make a really good head start on an alicorn arms race with that time, we’re talking about timescales you and I can’t even comprehend. Celestia and Luna are good for any ten, or even any hundred, little fucks she can pop out in that time. Old age and treachery will always beat youth and exuberance, as some saying went back home.”

                                            >”You think that’s your decision to make?”

                                            “Fuck no, and I didn’t make it. Twilight made that call.”

                                            >His white fur grows tinged with the red of anger, underneath.

                                            >That’s the same nerve you hit earlier, too.

                                            >”If you think I’m going to die before I see this palace welcome a rightful heir, you’re very sorely mistaken.”

                                            >Go for that nerve a third time. Go for the throat, like the predator you say you are.

                                            ”It’s not the palace, though, is it? You want it to be you. Or, should I say, you want it to be yours.”

                                            >The red under his fur vanishes, and his narrowed eyes widen with shock.

                                            >Bingo.

                                            ”Sure this palace has three princesses, but one’s been celibate for a thousand years. Between Luna coming back, and Cadance and Twilight’s ascensions, there’s been a bit of an explosion in the eligible princesses scene, hasn’t there? But Cadance got hitched and Luna’s got, ah, social and scheduling issues. Twilight was your only shot, wasn’t she? Is that all this was? Petty fucking jealousy, since that moment you realized I had this apparently dangerous combination of access to Twilight and some measure of responsibility?”

                                            >”She must see reason!”

                                            “Was that your fallback? If you were ever found out, she’d come up here to defend my honor, but she’s an understanding pony who cares about harmony, so she’d sit down and listen to you, right? You’d convince her the folly of my existence? Then you could get that royal heir, yours or not. That’s why you targeted my work, instead of my food or something. My work is the thing I shared with her, it’d get her to come to you.”

                                            >You laugh again.

                                            “But you didn’t expect me instead. You didn’t know men were the mares of my world, that I’d want to handle this personally. You lost to the unknown unknowns!”

                                            >”I have not yet ‘lost’. All I need to do is speak with her, and I can do that at any time.”

                                            “Then why haven’t you yet? It’s accessibility, isn’t it? Or it’s the fact stallions here are treated like jokes. Did you need to force a confrontation just to be taken seriously?”

                                            >You stand, shaking your head.

                                            “It doesn’t matter. This gives me the first crack at this conversation with them. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to do a little rhetorical battlespace shaping. Or, if I can indulge in stallion stereotypes, I have some gossip to spread.”

                                            >You turn and move to the door, but the glow of magic appears around its knob.

                                            >”You’re not going anywhere until we come to an agreement. As you said, discuss it reasonably. And there’s only one reasonable outcome.”

                                            >You look down at the doorknob.

                                            >It’s a pretty crappy one.

                                            >Government contractors being cheap bastards must be a universal constant.

                                            >You pull out your screwdriver.

                                            >It’s not the right size, a little on the small side, but at least it matches the screw type.

                                            >You jam it in a screw between the knob and the plate where it meets the door.

                                            >The too-small screwdriver makes it more difficult than it needs to be, but you manage to work the screw out in just a couple seconds.

                                            >”What are you doing?”

                                            “Returning a favor.”

                                            >As the door opens inward from this side, you weren’t expecting him to be holding the knob in place by pulling on it.

                                            >The doorknob flies off the door, slamming into your hip on its way to the middle of the room, the impact turning you halfway around. Blueblood stops pulling on it before it hits him too, and it skitters to the floor somewhere under his desk.

                                            >”Cease this foolishness!”

                                            >You smash the handle of the screwdriver against the end of the square-shaped shaft running through the door. The shaft, and the knob on its other end, pops out of the door and into the hallway beyond before Blueblood can get his magic on it. Then you stick your screwdriver’s blade against a small tab on top of the mechanism connected to the latch and pull it open.

                                            >You look back at Blueblood as you swing the door open, rubbing your hip. “I bet you don’t know how to put this back together as well as Twilight.”

                                            >You leave his sputtering behind as you walk away, nodding to the guard collecting the errant knob assembly as you pass him.

                                            “Sorry for the mess.”

                                            >Still rubbing your hip, you pocket your screwdriver and set out for the embassy.

                                            >Holy shit it’s starting to hurt.

                                            >When you get down to the door leading to the area behind the palace, you’re stopped short by the door opening on its own.

                                            >Twilight stands there, breathing quickly.

                                            >She leaps up at you, knocking you off-balance

                                            >”AnonIwasgettingsoworriedyouweren-”

                                            >You hit the ground, jarring your hip and forcing the screwdriver’s tip against your thigh, forcing a curse from you.

                                            >Twilight looks down at you in alarm, and quickly backs away from standing over you.

                                            “Nah, don’t worry, I’m fine. Honest.”

                                            >You sit up, then get to your feet, wincing.

                                            “I may not have gotten him to stop, but I know why now, and I think that’ll be enough to keep him down. If this doesn’t do it, you can talk to him. But for this one, he wanted you. Talking to you was his backup plan.”

                                            >The two of you stride out into the night, towards your embassy.

                                            >”That doesn’t make any sense. What did he want from me?”

                                            >You laugh, short and humorless.

                                            “From you? He wanted a foal.”

                                            >”You can’t be serious. That’s ridiculous.”

                                            “I am one hundred percent serious. If not by him, then by another stallion.”

                                            >”You and I talked about this.”

                                            “Yeah, and we’ve talked about the mortality stuff, and I laid that on him too. I don’t think he cared.”

                                            >At the embassy, you see the two Night Watch guards in place.

                                            >Why do they insist on standing on the roof?

                                            “Everything looking alright, up there?”

                                            >”No problems, Your Excellency.”

                                            “Great, keep it up.”

                                            >They didn’t sound like Catnip had filled them in.

                                            >You’ve got the night without any further explaining to do, then, as long as the guard at Blueblood’s door took exploding doorknobs as a simple consequence of a heated argument.

                                            >You hesitate at the door.

                                            “Hey, Twilight? Can we take dinner in the city? You lived here when you were younger, you could find some out-of-the-way place, somewhere you wouldn’t normally take me. You know, a comfy place that’s not in the nicer part of town, where natives would eat.”

                                            >She looks up at you, then nods. “Sure, Anon. Anything.”


                                            * * *


                                            “You’re staying?”

                                            >Twilight stands in the door to your bedroom, even after you’ve made it clear you’re looking to sleep. “Anon, you got hurt today. Because I wasn’t there. And I don’t care if that was your choice.”

                                            “Seriously, it’s just a bad bruise. I’ll recover.”

                                            >She walks back into your room. “That’s not it. It’s… the meaning of it, I guess. I’m staying, so you don’t get hurt again.”

                                            ”I have two wonderful protectors making a racket on the roof.”

                                            >“All the more reason I should be here!”

                                            “You think they’ll turn on me?”

                                            >”No, it’s because… mares protect their stallions!”

                                            >You grin.

                                            “So I am your stallion after all.”

                                            >She looks away, but nods.

                                            “No more waiting for Luna to make a move?”

                                            >“Buck her, she’s had long enough. I’m tired of waiting!”

                                            >You can’t help but laugh at how forceful Twilight says it.

                                            “Alright, on one condition.”

                                            >”Anon-”

                                            “That you’re not sitting on the fucking roof with the other two loons. You’re in here, with me.”

                                            >”How am I supposed to watch over you?”

                                            “By literally watching over me, Twilight. How better could you protect me than right at my side? Besides, it’ll be comfier.”

                                            >You pat your bed.

                                            “Also, I don’t have anywhere else set up for sleeping, and I refuse to put you on the couch in the lounge.”

                                            >She walks towards you, head lowered. “Alright. Only because you asked.”

                                            “Don’t act like you don’t want it, yourself.”

                                            >You swing your legs back onto the bed and scoot over, giving her enough room to get in with you.

                                            >She looks down at the bed, and back to you. “Are you sure?”

                                            “Holy fuck Twilight, just get in the goddamned bed.”

                                            >She steps into it almost like she’d shatter it, if she moved too fast. You prop yourself up on an elbow as she gingerly maneuvers around the more than ample space you’ve provided. Eventually she lowers herself to the bed, in that kneeling-laying pose ponies do, with their legs all under them like they’re pretending to be a cat.

                                            >When she turns to look at you, she slowly, very slowly, pitches her body away from you to end up partially on her side.

                                            >The visual effect is utterly ridiculous, and your sides are gone.

                                            >”What?” she demands, as you laugh your ass off.

                                            “I can’t believe this. It’s like you’re trying to stay as far away from me as possible. What happened to all that goofing off in the workshop, the past few days? What happened to me being your stallion now?”

                                            >You reach out and hook a hand over her spine, then yank her towards you, pitching her body up and over the opposite direction, so her back’s to you.

                                            >Then you get your other arm under her midsection and pull her in close.

                                            “If you’re going to be in here with me, I mean you’re going to be with me. This is how we did it back home. Do ponies not? No proximity in bed?

                                            >”No, it’s just…”

                                            “I bet if it weren’t for me, you’d be hopeless.”

                                            >”Sometimes it’s the other way around…”

                                            “I’m way too big for that, Twilight.”

                                            >She frees the wing not underneath her body from your arm, and you pull the arm under her body into a more comfortable position for the both of you, near her neck. You reach up and play with her ear, earning a contented sigh.

                                            >She doesn’t respond as freely as Luna, but it’s still pretty nice to hear.

                                            >Her wing extends back over you for a moment, before settling over her and your hips.

                                            >She snuffs the nearby candle with her magic, plunging the room into darkness.

                                            >You spend a couple moments just listening to her breathing, and feeling it under your arm, itself under her wing.

                                            >She’s got an ear towards your face, presumably listening to yours as well.

                                            >You snake the arm around her body between her forelegs, burying your hand in the thicker fur on the front of her chest, and pull her closer to you.

                                            >The size difference puts her head cleanly below your head, even hiking her up towards your chest the way you are. Her mane’s tickling under your chin, and the tip of her horn is about at the same ‘height’ as your eyes, framed by her ears like some purple sight post for this world’s most powerful friendship gun.

                                            >As your eyes adjust to the dark, you start to think you can make out the faintest stars in the darker purple hair of her mane.

                                            >Nah, can’t be. She’s not in control of her powers enough for that yet.

                                            >Still, you don’t mind losing yourself in it trying to see them.

                                            >You can’t remember the last time you’d fallen asleep with another warm body in your bed.

                                            >No, Luna’s head that one time didn’t count.

                                            >You find yourself trapped between knowing it’ll be a wonderful night’s sleep, and not wanting to sleep at all.

                                            >You can’t sleep when your heart feels like this anyway.

                                            >This is finally happening. You finally got a girl who loves you, your work, and wants to take care of you.

                                            >One who’s sharp as a tack, has ridiculous status, and is enthusiastic as fuck for just about everything you are.

                                            >So she’s not your species. You’ve come around to that. Your parents might be disappointed, but you don’t have a lot of options, where you are.

                                            >It means you haven’t stuck your dick in her, but that’s the one bridge you haven’t really looked across yet besides occasional glances.

                                            >Still time to get yourself on the right page with that.

                                            >Honestly, all things considered, Twilight’s way out of your league.

                                            >Yet, here you are.

                                            “Hey, Twi?”

                                            >”Yes?”

                                            “Thanks for looking out for me.”

                                            >She wiggles her back against your body, trying to close the last of the little distance between you.

                                            >“Thanks for, er, letting me.”

                                            “You’re not used to this, are you?”

                                            >”It’s my first time…”

                                            “Say it like that and you’d think we were doing something besides sleeping, in here.”

                                            >She mumbles a reply you don’t quite catch.

                                            “And that’s no way for you to worry about my hip.”

                                            >She stiffens ever so slightly, and her free wing starts wandering around your lower body.

                                            “No, no, stop, it was a joke, I’m kidding. No, seriously, please, I’m a little ticklish.”

                                            >The wing settles back into its prior position, and you take another swipe at her ear with the arm not wrapped around her, the ear not focused on you.

                                            >”Hey Anon?”

                                            “Yeah?”

                                            >She pulls her head around all the way, twisting her upper body for the rest of the range she needs. Her nose finds yours with perfect accuracy at the end of her arc, and she’s sharing your breath again.

                                            >“I love you too.”


                                            * * *


                                            >You stumble into the doorframe, turning to take it on your shoulder.

                                            >Twilight still doesn’t stir, limp in your arms.

                                            >Coughing doesn’t do much to clear the smoke from your lungs when every breath just sucks more in.

                                            >Dropping to one knee gets you low enough the air is somewhat clean.

                                            >But you can’t escape the inferno like this.

                                            >You look down the hall, towards the embassy’s front door.

                                            >The main workshop room at the end is blazing.

                                            >Can’t leave that way.

                                            >You’ll need to go deeper, try to get out the back door near the test area.

                                            >You take a deep breath and hold it.

                                            >Then you surge to your feet and take off down the hall away from the workshop as fast as you can manage.

                                            >As you enter the testing room and lounge, you trip over your own feet, pitching forward to the concrete floor

                                            >You twist in mid-air to land on your back instead of on Twilight.

                                            >The impact knocks the wind out of you, stunning you.

                                            >Unsupported by your now-limp arms, Twilight rolls off your chest, ending on her side on the floor to your right.

                                            >When you manage to turn your head to look at her, your eyes widen in shock

                                            >The entire far side of the long room is engulfed.

                                            >That was the only other way out.

                                            >When you recover your breath – what of it you can, with the still-building smoke accumulating above you – you sit up and pull Twilight into your lap, then scoot back on your rear to the wall opposite the flames, to get as far from them as possible.

                                            >The entire structure is stone, and you thought that’d be enough to prevent something like this.

                                            >Everything you’d since put inside to make it comfortable, however, is wood. As are the doors, window frames, and wall cladding that had been left over from its prior life as a barracks.

                                            >You’re going to die for creature comforts.

                                            >She’s going to die for your creature comforts.

                                            >You bring your knees up and hug the unconscious Twilight to your chest, her head beside yours, and bury your face in her shoulder and wing.

                                            >You shouldn’t have tried to handle this yourself. You should have let the mares take care of it for you.

                                            >This isn’t your world. Their justice isn’t yours to emulate.

                                            >You never should have forgiven the filly. Never should have told the guards to go lightly.

                                            >You should have been the predator you bragged about being and killed Blueblood.

                                            >Or at least fucked him up, made him understand that you weren’t to be messed with.

                                            >If that put you in prison or worse, well…

                                            >At least Twilight would have been okay.

                                            >She’d have been heartbroken. Probably would have hated you.

                                            >But she’d have lived, and that would have been worth it.

                                            >Now she won’t even have that.

                                            >In the end, this is all your fault.

                                            >You sit with her in your lap, your entire body wrapped around hers in a futile gesture, as if you could somehow protect her from the encroaching flames.

                                            >You clutch her to you with all the life you have left, squeezing her in your arms, running your hands over her mane and feathers and coat. Try to get all that closeness, that contact, that you would never have again.

                                            >And you cry.

                                            >Your life together ends as soon as it had begun.

                                            >Out cold, you can’t even tell her you love her. Seriously this time, with feeling.

                                            >At the far side of the room, the fire shifts.

                                            >It must be getting closer. Claimed another piece of furniture, or something.

                                            >No. No, that’s not it.

                                            >A dark figure stands inside it.

                                            >That figure is coming closer.

                                            >After a few moments, Luna walks out of the fire, totally unscathed. When she sees you, she hurries her approach.

                                            >How did she do that? How did she walk through and not burn?

                                            >As soon as that thought completes, she bursts into flames, and disappears with a yelp.

                                            >Only to reappear a few heartbeats later, once more in perfect health.

                                            >”We wish to save thee! Makest not our effort difficult!”

                                            “I can’t… she’s passed out, Luna. You can’t drag both of us. Leave me… take her.”

                                            >It’s hard to speak.

                                            >Maybe death is closer than you’d thought.

                                            >When she reaches you, she shoves you aside, spinning you in place.

                                            >Then she grabs the back of your shirt in her teeth and starts pulling you backwards.

                                            >When did she get this strong?

                                            >When you realize she’s pulling you towards the fire, you curl tighter around Twilight.

                                            >”Preparest thyself; even in a dream, thy mind believeth thee burns.”

                                            >Before you can process what she’s said, you’re enveloped in mindblowing pain.

                                            >You clench your jaw, screaming through your teeth

                                            >But your flesh doesn’t blister or char.

                                            >Then you’re clear.

                                            >Luna keeps dragging you backwards, first across the packed dirt surrounding the embassy, then across the grass beyond.

                                            >You stare in disbelief at the burning building, Canterlot Palace rising behind it, and the sunny sky behind that.

                                            >It’s daytime?

                                            >Luna stops dragging you through the grass, and your body rocks to a halt.

                                            >You look down at your precious burden.

                                            >She looks and feels like she’s breathing, but only barely.

                                            “Twilight, we made it. Luna came, she saved us. We’re okay now. You can wake up now.”

                                            >You give her a little shake as Luna walks in front of you.

                                            “Please wake up?”

                                            >”She wont, Anon.”

                                            >Your blood runs cold as you look up at Luna.

                                            “What- what are you saying?”

                                            >She gives you a weak smile. “She is not here. Thou dreamest.”

                                            >A dream.

                                            >This is a dream. A nightmare.

                                            >A new one, to go with your new life.

                                            >Luna studies your features, as that sinks in. “Ah, thy head cleareth, now. We are surprised. Thou knowest normally straight away.”

                                            >Even knowing she’s not Twilight, not really, you still cradle her a few moments longer in your arms, then gingerly lay her down in the grass beside you.

                                            >Then you draw your knees up to your chest, wrap your arms around them, and take a deep, shuddering breath.

                                            >Luna comes around to your other side, opposite Twilight. She extends her neck towards you, but seems to think better of it, pulling her head back again and sitting down.

                                            >It takes you some time to collect yourself.

                                            >Luna stays distant, watching you.

                                            >Only when you’re steady does she speak. “Dost thou wish… us to merge her into that body?”

                                            >You look over at her when you hear her hesitation, but she looks away from you.

                                            “Is she having a nightmare too?”

                                            >Luna shakes her head. “She dreameth pleasantly.”

                                            “Then leave her. She doesn’t need to see this.”

                                            >Luna is silent for several more seconds, before, “She dreameth of thee. As she so often doeth.”

                                            >That would make you happy, but for Luna’s tone saying it.

                                            >”As thou often doest of her.”

                                            >Only then does she look back at you. “Anon, answerest truthfully. Where is she now?”

                                            >You look down at the mostly-inert body beside you.

                                            >If you were sitting up in bed right now, the two of you would probably be arranged a lot like this.

                                            “She’s sleeping beside me. In my bed, in there.”

                                            >You point a finger at the burning building.

                                            >Luna nods, but each descent of her head brings it lower to the grass. “We see. We had thought, with what dreams we’d seen, but…”

                                            >You reach out a hand to her face, but she pulls away from you, getting to her hooves quickly and backing up.

                                            >Her eyes look hard.

                                            >”How long?”

                                            “How long what?”

                                            >”How long hath she slept with thee?”

                                            “Tonight’s the first night. Honest, Luna. It’s not like I was keeping anything from you.”

                                            >Her gaze softens a bit, and she looks down at the grass. “We thought as much, but...” She shakes her head. “We are isolated from the world, awake at night and sleeping during day. For all we gleaned from dreams, we knew she was dear to thee, and thou her, but not how much.”

                                            >She looks to the burning embassy, then. “Is that this dream’s root? Dost thou fear losing her?”

                                            “That’s definitely a fear, after this. But I don’t think it’s the cause. Not from what I was thinking, in there. Before you saved me.”

                                            >She looks back to you. “What thoughts were those?”

                                            “Well, there’s still some stuff about this world I haven’t gotten used to. I’m trying. I really am. But back home, justice is more retributive, than rehabilitative here.”

                                            >You wave a hand at the building.

                                            “I guess this is my lack of faith in that approach, or maybe just a lack of faith in my capacity to execute it.”

                                            >Luna looks between the building and you a couple times. “But what hath that to do with thy home and Twilight?”

                                            >Should you tell her?

                                            >You already had your talk with Blueblood.

                                            >Your current plan was to spread the word as much as possible, to prejudice ponies against whatever plans he might next undertake by making his actions and motivations known.

                                            >If you couldn’t start here, then where?

                                            >You take a deep breath before you begin.

                                            “Blueblood sent someone to vandalize the place, today. We caught it before anything bad happened, and I confronted him about it. But the vandal was just a filly, and Blueblood’s a coward. I took pity. The guards have the former, and the latter I was gonna let stew in it.”

                                            >After a long moment of silence, you look back at Luna.

                                            >She’s staring at the building in shock.

                                            >Something was off about her. It wasn’t her stance – stunned as it was – or anything so visible, but-

                                            >Her eyes.

                                            >Her pupils are narrowed into slits, like her guards.

                                            >“We… We had heard of an altercation, today. From the guard at his door. We thought it… trivial. We thought…”

                                            >She fixes those slit pupils on you.

                                            >“He would have killed thee. Destroyed thy life’s work. Burned thee to ash. Nothing to mourn.”

                                            ”Luna-”

                                            >”We would have known not. Been unable to save thee.”

                                            “Twilight was there, I was-”

                                            >”His peace is forfeit. His life must be made a waking nightmare. No respite from terror.”

                                            >Maybe rehabilitative justice is a recent development, in pony culture.

                                            >You stand to face her, but she only draws herself up further. “And his suffering shall serveth as a warning to all that thou shelterest under our own wing, that our grace blesseth all thou doest, that no harm shall come to thee while we still draw breath.”

                                            “Luna stop!”

                                            >Your shout jolts her, and she takes a step back from you.

                                            “You told me about some big dumb fucking gesture. Is that what this is supposed to be? Your gesture to me? You want to prove yourself by causing suffering? I’m trying to do things your world’s way, I don’t want to see you do them mine. If that’s your fucking idea of a grand fucking gesture, forget it!”

                                            >She recoils as if you’d just slapped her. Her pupils revert to their usual round shape.

                                            >”That… That is…”

                                            >She starts moving side to side, slowly but accelerating, in a strange weaving action you haven’t seen before. She looks like she wants to run but can’t decide in which direction, and is stuck facing you.

                                            >”That is understandable! Oh yes. Hah. Of course. Thou saidst thou hadst never seen us unkind, so we had nothing to fear of thy disapproval. But now thou seest! So thou rejectest us. Naturally.”

                                            “No, wait, hold on now-”

                                            >She’s breathing extremely fast, now, between words. ”Isolated, we find it difficult to connect. This keeps us further isolated. Only our sister keepeth us. Yes. Loneliness begetteth loneliness! Not a pain others would beareth on our behalf. This is proper. We remain alone.”

                                            >She lowers her head and slows the strange motion, but not in a very coordinated manner. She looks drunk.

                                            >“Alone. Though I love you, alone.”

                                            >She pitches over and collapses to the ground.

                                            >You play that back in your head as you rush to her side.

                                            >She dropped her antiquated pronoun bullshit on that last one, didn’t she?

                                            >Not that you can ask; she’s passed out.

                                            “Wake up! Why do you spiral like this?”

                                            >You put both hands on the side of her body and shake her.

                                            “Come on you dumb mare wake the fuck up come on come on!”

                                            >There are now two unconscious mares on your lawn, and you’re really not feeling silent company.

                                            >You wrap an arm around her upper body, lift her slightly, and start shaking again.

                                            “Wake up wake up wake up!”

                                            >Suddenly she’s flailing in your grip, forcing you to let go and drop her back on the now-matted grass. She stills a couple seconds after she lands.

                                            >Fortunately, you’ve managed to avoid getting kicked by her scything hooves.

                                            >After a couple seconds laying on her side in the grass panting she looks up at where you kneel. “Under… understandable.”

                                            “Hey, you cool? You calm?”

                                            >She looks away from you, curling her head down to her chest silently.

                                            >But she’s not freaking out again, so that’s a yes.

                                            “You said ‘I love you’.”

                                            >Her eye snaps back to you. “Truly?”

                                            “You said that. Not ‘We love thee.’ Those three exact words.”

                                            >She looks away again. “We… I have made a habit of rudeness. You are beneath me not, Anon. Anything but.”

                                            >You switch from a kneeling to a sitting position, and pull her head into your lap, stroking the side of her neck.

                                            “And, uh, yeah. Truly.”

                                            >She turns her head upward at you, then struggles to right herself where she lays in the grass, but you push her back down.

                                            “Nah, rest. Don’t go passing out on me again.”

                                            >”But… you saw my-”

                                            “Everyone’s got their inner demons. Yours just might, uh, be an actual demon. I said I’d cut Blueblood’s balls off, when I was talking to him.”

                                            >You laugh.

                                            “I understand the sentiment behind wanting him to suffer, I really do.”

                                            >”And what about Twilight?”

                                            “What about her?”

                                            >”She must accepteth me.”

                                            “She was waiting for you, you know. Got fed up with it.”

                                            >Luna’s silent for a time, before, “I did take long enough to say it, did I not?”

                                            “Yeah, well something about gestures or whatever. When I said forget it, Luna, that’s all I meant. I don’t care about some big deed to prove yourself to me.”

                                            >You laugh to yourself again, shaking your head.

                                            “We’ve spent enough time together to prove yourself to me the real way. And you gave me enough time to realize it. I was psyching myself up for it, when Twilight first said something, but it sorta just fell into place. Now, lately, I can’t keep my hands off you.”

                                            >You pat her side with your hand not busy with her neck, just to prove your point.

                                            “And now, hey, you revealed the deepest, darkest part of you. And you’re the only one who’s seen my old home. We know more about each other than anyone else in Equestria. As far as I’m concerned, you’re already in.”

                                            >”In?”

                                            “Yeah. The herd or whatever.”

                                            >”The band.”

                                            “Twilight told me you’d call it that.”

                                            >Luna smiles up at you. “I suppose I should get with the times, if I am to be a satisfactory mate.”

                                            ”Mate, huh? I’m already a big fan of how your body reacts to mine.”

                                            >Luna puts a forehoof on your shoulder, then rolls herself upright, pushing your back down to the grass in the process. She looms over you, grinning. “Anon, you will find I am just as fond of innuendo as my sister, merely restrained by tact. You have now given me all the permission I need to do whatever I want with you.”

                                            >She stops herself, then, blinking and pulling her head up slightly, before looking at something behind you.

                                            >The smell of smoke still drifts over you, and you can see the reflections of flames dancing in her eyes.

                                            >”We must tell my sister.”

                                            >You roll out from underneath her onto your stomach, and look at the building as well.

                                            “Do we? I, uh, I’m not particularly proud of this crisis of faith in your culture. In fact, she’s the last person I want to know; she’s pretty invested in me acclimating well.”

                                            >”I insist. She must knoweth the threat you have faced.”

                                            “No, really, can we just-”

                                            >You hear a popping sound, like a unicorn teleporting.

                                            >”Oh!”

                                            >That was Celestia’s voice.

                                            >You quickly stand and locate her. No strange objects surround her, and the environment looks exactly as it had before.

                                            >Strange how easy Luna can shuttle ponies around, when she has such difficulty with you.

                                            >Celestia gently nudges Twilight’s body with her nose before looking at you and Luna.

                                            >”Is she alright?”

                                            >”That is merely a dream construct, sister.”

                                            >Celestia looks down at Twilight and takes two steps back, looking like her student had just transformed into a particularly grotesque bug. “You know those always creeped me out, when I’m made aware in dreams. Especially someone so dear to me.”

                                            >“Anon’s, not mine. But look yonder.”

                                            >Celestia turns to your still-burning embassy then, and takes a step back. Then another. She backs up to you even as you walk to her side.

                                            >When you reach her, your heart falls when you see her face.

                                            >She’s wearing no mask, no facade of propriety. Just a look of pure horror.

                                            >It takes several seconds before she turns to look at you.

                                            >Luna comes up on your other side, dipping her head low and nudging your hand out with her snout, then bringing her head up underneath your hand so it’s resting between her ears.

                                            >When Luna stops beside you, she draws Celestia’s attention. “Why do you show us this nightmare, sister?”

                                            >You can hear her voice quaver.

                                            >When have you ever known Celestia to be this raw?

                                            >”Not just a nightmare. A prophecy of a future averted. At least, so I hope.”

                                            >She looks to Celestia, then. “Averting it is why I bring you.”

                                            >”Explain. Now.”

                                            >Luna nudges your side.

                                            “Well, uh, Blueblood hired some kid off the street to break in, today. We turned her away – your guards have her – but, uh.”

                                            >You shake your head and sigh.

                                            “I’m scared it’s not enough, is all. I talked to him, and figure I can try to beat him at his game, but that’s not the same sense of security I’d get back home. So I got a new nightmare, for the first time in a long time.”

                                            >You gesture to the not-actually-Twilight nearby.

                                            “She and I would have died in there, if Luna hadn’t stepped in.”

                                            >”Is Twilight with you now? In the real?”

                                            “Yeah.”

                                            >”Comforting.”

                                            “Well, she’s asleep too. With me. In bed.”

                                            >Celestia gives you something approximating a sly look, but it’s twisted with worry from the scene before her.

                                            >On your other side, you feel Luna flick her tail.

                                            >”Anon, I-”

                                            >Celestia’s voice breaks, and she looks away from you.

                                            >”This has been going on for quite some time, hasn’t it?”

                                            “From the moment I stepped out from under your wing, yeah.”

                                            >”I told you to tell me if you were ever harassed.”

                                            “I had to try to make my own way, Celestia. I couldn’t be glued to your side forever.”

                                            >She wheels on you then, her expression a mix of sorrow and…

                                            >And rage.

                                            >”When it got this bad? What if I lost you? What do you think that’d do to me, for your stubborn pride? What would that do to my sister, to Twilight? You’re not so different from a stallion after all; you don’t think!”

                                            “I got what I wanted to get done. I don’t care anymore, you can take it from here.”

                                            >”Oh, I can, now? And if your little plan didn’t work? If you died here-” She punctuates it with a stamp of a hoof- ”where would that leave the three of us, who’d spent so much caring for you? You’ve seen my own nightmare, Anon. I thought you’d be more sensitive than encouraging it to become a reality!”

                                            >She has to put more force into the words to make them sound angry. Her wrath had burned out halfway through the diatribe. It’s just sorrow left now; you can hear as much, and see it in her ever-honest eyes as they tear up.

                                            “Yeah. It’s my fault. I understand that. That-”

                                            >You gesture at the building.

                                            “-showed me that. I thought I had it under control, but really I’m still scared shitless, if I’m getting dreams like this.”

                                            >Celestia’s speechless, and you can see her tears starting to fall.

                                            >Luna leaves your side for her sister’s, pushing her head into Celestia’s shoulder. “He is fine, sister. No use crying. Let us plan.”

                                            >Celestia looks like she’s about to object, but then shakes her head. You can see her usual posture start to return, all those interlocking armor plates of apparent calm, aloofness, and composure sliding into place and layering over each other, assembling her normal facade.

                                            >”Yes. Lets. You said you talked to him. What was his rationale?”

                                            “He’s upset I got Twilight’s interest. He saw her as the first eligible princess for Equestria for, uh, for breeding. He thinks there needs to be more alicorns, to build some sort of ruling caste I guess.”

                                            >She nudges Luna’s neck with her snout. “Sister, can stallions think of anything besides foals?”

                                            >”Mine can.”

                                            >Celestia blinks a few times, then looks over Luna’s shoulders at you. “I see. You are most fortunate, then.”

                                            >Then, for the first time in this dream, she smiles. ”Very good. I, however, must deal with the wayward nobility running our household.”

                                            >”We must remove him.”

                                            >So much for your plans of subtlety, your battle of wits.

                                            >”And? He’s still royalty, sister, no matter how distant.”

                                            >”The scion of an ancient cadet branch. He can be cast aside, until an heir to his lineage comes forth. One you could make a student, and show the true responsibility of their status.”

                                            >”And until then?”

                                            “You could, uh, put Raven in charge I guess?”

                                            >Celestia gives you a look like she’s holding back laughter. “Anon, Raven can pluck the strings of state like the finest musician, but I wouldn’t trust her to run a hovel, let alone the palace. She only returns home to sleep, you know, and comes back as soon as her morning preparations are complete. If it weren’t for the palace kitchens, I’m sure she would have starved long ago; the only thing she knows how to make is coffee. Perhaps we could simply keep Blueblood on a short leash, until we have a suitable replacement.”

                                            >Luna looks back at you. “Why does my stallion not do it?”

                                            “Look, if you put me with Raven, together we can make maybe two thirds of that hovel work.”

                                            >The blue alicorn frowns. “You will have to work on that.”

                                            “Sure, but you don’t have the time for that now. Look, I’m not going to be much of a help, so I think I’ll step out and let you two get to it.”

                                            >You do that thing where you try to pop your own head off to exit the dream.

                                            >Nothing happens.

                                            >Celestia eyes you inquisitively. “What are you doing to yourself?”

                                            >”He can escapeth dreams sometimes. However, at present, you anchor him.”

                                            >”Ah. I’m sure you can call up a more pleasant one in my head to continue this discussion.”

                                            >”I need your mind in my grasp already for best effect, sister.” Luna eyes you critically. “It is a simulated head injury, correct?”

                                            “Uh, yeah. At least I think so. I think it started with trying to break my neck or something.”

                                            >”Interesting. I told you I cannot abort your dreams for you, as human dreams work in strange ways. I can, however, facilitate your own means.”

                                            “Er, what’s that supposed to-”

                                            >She pivots on her front hooves so her rear is to you, and kicks off the ground with her hind legs, drawing them inward as she’s tilting forward.

                                            >You have just enough time to figure out what’s about to happen before her two rear hooves smash into the side of your skull.

                                            >You bolt upright in your bed.

                                            >Damn, the mare could kick.

                                            >That’s a distant thought, though, like the dream you just woke from had concluded long ago.

                                            >”Mrhuh?”

                                            >Twilight’s head pokes out from under the covers she’d apparently drawn over both of you, sometime in the night.

                                            >Seeing her face and hearing her voice, no matter how sleep-addled, brings back all the memories from inside the burning building.

                                            >Your arms are around her then, squeezing her tight, your hands petting whatever portions of her coat are within reach as you fight back tears.

                                            >”Anon, hey, you’re- you’re crushing me.”

                                            >You relax a bit, just enough she can move.

                                            “Sorry, just… need this. Just for a bit.”

                                            >She brings her head as close to yours as she can, with how you’re limiting her range of motion. “Is something wrong?”

                                            “Just a bad dream.”

                                            >”Want to talk about it?”

                                            “No. It’s, uh, it’s being handled.”

                                            >”Luna?”

                                            “Yeah, she helped. But I just-”

                                            >You settle back to your sleeping position, Twilight still in your arms.

                                            “I need to hold you for a bit, that’s all.”

                                            >”As long as you’d like.”