Royal Circumstances [RGRE] [Incest] [NSFW]


                                            >You just sit still beside the fountain, listening to the waters flow as the Gryphon finishes her declaration of love to you.

                                            "I'm sorry, but no."

                                            >The gryphon, looking dejected, but still determined, presses on.

                                            >"But why? This marriage bring great prosperity to country. Make Equestria ponies happy. And when Equestria happy, Equestria rulers happy. No?"

                                            "Well yes, but."

                                            >"But what, dear prince? Am Nadya not strong enough? Am Nadya not beautiful enough?"

                                            "Nadya," you call as you pat the bench, beckoning her to sit beside you.

                                            >"Why, Anonymous? Is Nadya not good enough Gryffin?

                                            "Nadya, do you know that I have gone to the griffon encampment last week?"

                                            >"You have? Then why you not tell Nadya? Nadya can catch big moose, celebrate with griffon."

                                            "I was going to, but I saw you working."

                                            >"Is no bother, Nadya can work anytime."

                                            "It's not work, it was a griffon that stopped me."

                                            >"Who dares! Nadya will order for her execution."

                                            "I met a griffon named Peter."

                                            >"O-oh... What has Petyr done? He is silly bird, means no offence surely."

                                            "Oh no, he was very nice. He was very helpful and seems to take you in high regard.

                                            "I might even say he has a crush on you."

                                            >"R-really!? I-is much good! See! Nadya is attractive, beautiful griffon!"

                                            >Smiling slightly, you take one of Nadya's paws and hold it up.

                                            "What is he like, he seems like a nice griffon."

                                            >"He is! But Petyr is weak, and needs protection from big, strong griffon like Nadya!"

                                            "Oh? What does Petyr like?"

                                            >"Ah! He is big eater, but likes liver, always sneaks to corner for eating."

                                            "Why would he do that?"

                                            >"He think Nadya maybe get angry, but Nadya not get angry, Nadya thinks cute... Wait, is Anon in love with Petyr?"

                                            "Do you love me, Nadya?"

                                            >"Of course! Nadya loves you much! Griffon can fly thousand clouds and not outfly love of Nadya."

                                            "But you don't look at me like you look at Peter."

                                            >"I- You want Nadya to get rid of Petyr?"

                                            "No. I want you to be honest with him."

                                            >"Nadya does not understand."

                                            "I want you to love him, Nadya."

                                            >"Buy why? Why do you reject Nadya so?"

                                            "Now, imagine we were married. A picket fence, a small house."

                                            >"If you Nadya weds you, will be big palace, with large gates!"

                                            "Then let's say that's the case.

                                            "We're married, and you head to your duties, I stay at home, and nurse the children.

                                            "When you return, I greet you with a hug, and a kiss.

                                            "What do you think of that?"

                                            >"Is good."

                                            "But let's say, that when I was kissing you, I am thinking about one of your generals, madly in love with her.

                                            "How would that make you feel?"

                                            >"Nadya will execute her! Who is she! Is Anon in love with general!?"

                                            "No, but that is how I would feel."

                                            >"Then Anonymous need not to fear! Nadya love only Anonymous!"

                                            "Then can I have a kiss?"

                                            >"Of course!"

                                            >You lean in for a kiss, using your hands to hold Nadya's face in place, and look her in the eyes as you approach her beak.

                                            >She looks you in the eyes for the first few seconds, but looks to the side at the last second and shuts her eyes.

                                            >Eyes shut tight, she awaits your lips.

                                            >But they never arrive.

                                            >When she opens her eyes, you dive in for a quick peck on her forehead.

                                            >The deed done, you sit back down.

                                            >"Nadya thought Anonymous will kiss Nadya?"

                                            "I was going to, but you were thinking of someone else."

                                            >"There is no such thing!"

                                            "Who were you thinking about, Nadya?"

                                            >"Nadya was thinking of eternal love to Anonymous!"

                                            "I'm the only person here, Nadya.

                                            "You can tell me the truth."

                                            >But Nadya remains still.

                                            "Please, Nadya. I want the truth."

                                            >"...Nadya was thinking of Petyr."

                                            >The both of you sit in silence for a moment.

                                            >Holding her close, you kiss her on the forehead again.

                                            "Go to him. He's waiting."

                                            >"Many thanks, Anonymous."

                                            "Think nothing of it, may the winds guide your wings, Princess Nadya"

                                            >"And may the skies pile blessings upon you, Prince Anonymous."

                                            >With a flap of her wing, she soars into the air and you send her off with a wave.

                                            >Once you are sure she is gone, you finish your drink, pat down your toga, and head back into the ballroom.

                                            >"Prince Anonymous!" you hear Raven calling out to you as she runs across the ballroom, a worried look on her face.

                                            >"What happened to Princess Nadya?" She asked while taking a look around you, trying to find the princess.

                                            "She decided to re-think her priorities."

                                            >You stop one of the waiters and grab a glass of champagne, to blend in with the crowd.

                                            "I'm afraid I am without a date for the night."

                                            >"Well, I'm sure we can-" she stops as you place a hand on her back.

                                            "Walk with me, Raven."

                                            >"Yes, your highness."

                                            >With Raven by your side, you walk through the ballroom.

                                            >The guests let you pass the moment they see you.

                                            >A few stop you for banter.

                                            >"Ah! Anonymus! Ye grace us wit yer presense!" A masculine voice calls out to you.

                                            >Turning around with a smile on your face, you return the greeting.

                                            "It is my pleasure, Duke Hardfist. How is your daughter?"

                                            >"She be turnin' twelve 'is yir," the Minotaur duke boasts proudly.

                                            "Send her my greetings."

                                            >"Aye! Ah'll do at'!"

                                            >You walk further through the room, all the time with Raven at your heels.

                                            "Raven, take note of this. Send a dozen caramel candies from Dozen Delights to Ysolda Hardfist, Attach note, happy birthday, due eighth of August."

                                            >"Yes your majesty."

                                            >You reach the throne and see your mother and aunt on their thrones, greeting what are most likely male suitors from the other nations.

                                            >You wait until the current one finishes the formalities and cut the queue.

                                            >You can hear several of them click their tongues, but such things are ignored.

                                            >"Anonymous," you mother calls to you with a gentle voice, "come here, my ray of sunlight."

                                            >You approach your mother with your arms open, and pull her into a hug, and you can feel her forelegs and wings wrap around you.

                                            >You place a kiss on her muzzle and whisper in her ears.

                                            "We should have more favourable terms when dealing with the griffons."

                                            >Your mother offers no reply, just holding you close for a few minutes.

                                            >"I'm proud of you, Anon."

                                            >You can feel a "But..." coming.

                                            >"But I want you to have fun here."

                                            "Mother..."

                                            >"I know you care greatly for the little ponies, but you have a life too."

                                            "I know, mother."

                                            >"You're a grown stallion now, and you should find yourself a partner."

                                            "Yes, mother."

                                            >You mother unfolds her wings, and holds you at hoof length.

                                            >"Look at you, all grown up now, calling me 'mother'.

                                            >"What happened to the days when you called me Mommy?

                                            >"Go on, call me mommy, just once."

                                            "Mother." you groan as you feel the blood rush to your face, turning you pink.

                                            >"Please?" she pleads, wriggling her eyebrows.

                                            "...mommy..." you hurriedly whisper.

                                            >And she beams you a radiant smile.

                                            >You know that smile.

                                            >She's going to do something.

                                            >And she did.

                                            >Your mother stood up, her wings completely unfurled.

                                            >Instantly, the room quieted and the suitors retreated from around the throne.

                                            >With her Canterlot voice, she projected her voice across the halls.

                                            >"I would like to thank all of you for attending this year's Grand Galloping Gala.

                                            >"Today, I would like to introduce my son to all of you.

                                            "mother!" you whisper in protest.

                                            >"Anonymous?" she calls, beckoning you to stand between the throne.

                                            >Walking to the middle of the two thrones, your mother announces

                                            >"My one and only son! Anonymous!"

                                            >The room is filled with deafening applause as you feel your face heat up even more.

                                            >You really don't like all this attention.

                                            >"Now, my son, Anonymous, is still single, despite his exquisite visage.

                                            >"And I would like some grandchildren in this lifetime."

                                            >The guests chuckle at your mother's joke.

                                            >"So, I would like all you brave mares, tauren, and griffons, to give my son a chance. Don't be shy."

                                            >You can already see some of them getting ideas, no doubt from the way that you are blushing.

                                            >They must think you are some delicate flower that they must protect, or mayhap a challenge to be conquered.

                                            >You direct a glare at your mother, which is looking pretty pleased with herself.

                                            >She gestures with her hoof, asking you to return to the ball, and you do just that.

                                            >Not before finishing your drink.

                                            >Five seconds after your feet touch the ballroom floor, the potential suitors come swarming to you.

                                            >"May I have a dance, Prince Anonymous?" from the tauren diplomat's daughter.

                                            >"Would you like some food, Prince Anonymous?" asks the diamond dog queen's second daughter.

                                            >This is going to be a long night.


                                            -----


                                            >You finally reach your soft bed, after a long night on your throne, turning suitors away.

                                            >Your back is killing you, no mare should stay on a throne for that long.

                                            >With a loud clank, your leg hits the bedpost and you remember that you have not taken your leggings off yet.

                                            >With a glow of your horn, the horseshoes fall off your hind legs and your crown is placed in the drawer.

                                            >The horseshoes on your forelegs are still on.

                                            >Horseapples.

                                            >A flick of your horn sends gliding to the corner of the room.

                                            >You move further into the bed, and cuddle with your pillow.

                                            >But tired as you are, you find it hard to fall asleep.

                                            >An unexpected knock is heard at the door.

                                            "Who is it?"

                                            >"Mother, it's me." your son calls out from the other side of the door.

                                            >You open the lock to the door with a spell.

                                            "It's open, come in."

                                            >Your son enters the room silently, meaning he's out in his socks again.

                                            >He closes the door behind him, and approaches you, and you roll around to look him in the eyes.

                                            "Now what are you doing up so late, sunbeam?"

                                            >"Mother, I'm an adult, I can stay up late now."

                                            >He sets the cups on the nightstand and turns to you.

                                            >"Come on, turn around. I'll massage your back."

                                            "I don't think that's necessary, Sunbeam."

                                            >"Let me do it, you owe me this much."

                                            "What do you mean?" you try to play innocent.

                                            >"Don't give me that look, painting a target on me like that.

                                            >You turn around and you can feel your son's hands on your withers.

                                            >"It was so hard getting away from those suitors, you know?"

                                            >Using his fingers to apply pressure on your withers, he tests the tenseness of your muscles before pressing down with his palm.

                                            >This is heaven.

                                            >You've died and gone to Elysium.

                                            "A little lower, Sunbeam."

                                            >His palm slowly moves downwards to your croup as the tension in your muscles start becoming undone.

                                            >"Do you really want me to marry so soon?"

                                            >You enjoy his palm on your back for a little longer before turning your head to face him.

                                            "I don't want you to be lonely, sweetheart. Mn." you hold back a moan as he hits a tender spot.

                                            >"I'm not, as long as I have you and Aunt Luna, I'll be just fine." he says with a straight face as he presses down harder on a stubborn knot.

                                            >You're doing your best not to let out any weird sounds, but his tender ministrations on your back is making that rather hard.

                                            "We are two very old mares, living with a handsome stallion, Anonymous. The masses will whisper."

                                            >"Then let them, it doesn't matter what they say. There is no shred of truth to it."

                                            >You can only smile at your beloved son.

                                            "It is in your best interests to find a lover, Anon." you say while getting up. "I will not force you, but I want you to consider it seriously."

                                            >Gently, you nudge him towards your door.

                                            "You are still young, live while you can, love while you can."

                                            >You nudge him out of your room, and bid him a good night.

                                            >"Good night... Mommy." He says quickly, and retreats to his room.

                                            >Closing the door, you lock it hurriedly, and shut all the curtains, and cast a silencing spell around the room.

                                            >You hope you're still in time.

                                            >Jumping onto your bed, you take a deep breath, inhaling his masculine scent.

                                            >Sorry, Sunshine. But your mommy's a bad mare.

                                            >She has bad thoughts about you.

                                            >Very very bad thoughts.

                                            >Inhaling his scent, you reach a hoof down to your already winking nethers, and gently give your slit a rub.

                                            >He would be covered in your scent by now.

                                            >His hands working all over your back.

                                            >Oh

                                            >His hands.

                                            >His delicate, agile hands.

                                            >Using your magic, you try your best to replicate his hand, but to little success.

                                            >You're never able to make it as dextrous as you want it to be.

                                            >It runs across your slit, dipping a finger in, before making a circle around your winking clit.

                                            >It's not enough.

                                            >You brush your hooves against your labia, thinking, fantasizing.

                                            >What would Anon do?

                                            >He's such a gentle boy.

                                            >Probably never had a mare before.

                                            >You would have to guide him.

                                            >You would lay him gently on your sheets, and kiss him.

                                            >Taste those soft lips, and enjoy the cute moans that he would make when you undress him.

                                            >Maybe he will be more aggressive?

                                            >Try to turn the tides on you, kissing your neck, your chest, slowly going lower.

                                            >And then he would kiss your other mouth.

                                            >And then, he would take out his member.

                                            >He must be pretty big now.

                                            >And he would use it on you.

                                            >Slowly, entering.

                                            >You might have to give him some encouragement.

                                            >But he will make it all the way in.

                                            >Stretching you comfortably.

                                            >Making you feel so full.

                                            >Since it's his first time, he would be jerky.

                                            >But that's okay.

                                            >You can teach him.

                                            >Teach him how to please a mare properly.

                                            >Your hoof works at a frantic pace as you imagine Anon pumping.

                                            >In, out, in, out, in, out, in, out, in, out.

                                            >You magic pumping in and out, keeping up with your fantasy.

                                            >You can feel your breath getting more and more ragged as you grind your hooves against your nethers.

                                            >"Anon... Anon... Right there, sunbeam...

                                            >You can feel the excitement pool up within you.

                                            >You can't stop anymore, not now.

                                            >You muscles wind up like springs as you feel something coming.

                                            >"Yes, sunshine... Yes!"

                                            >Your hind legs began to quiver.

                                            >You are so close.

                                            >Then, a memory comes to mind.

                                            >>"Good night... Mommy."

                                            >And just like that, you come.

                                            >At first, came the pleasure.

                                            >The mind numbing pleasure.

                                            >Shooting through you like electricity as you continued rubbing your clit.

                                            >At the edge of your senses, you could feel yourself squirt.

                                            >It's probably shooting across the bed in heavy droplets and sinking into the sheets.

                                            >And then, the orgasm fades.

                                            >Like a marionette that had its strings cut, you slump onto your bed, exhausted.

                                            >When you finally come to, you realize that your mouth has lolled open.

                                            >Your head is still spinning.

                                            >You take a few minutes to steady yourself before drying the bed sheets.

                                            >Once you are finished, you lie down comfortably and reach for the drawer.

                                            >From the drawer, you retrieve a small photograph.

                                            >On it is the two most important ponies in your life.

                                            "Good night, Anon," you say, giving it a kiss. "Good night, Luna."

                                            >Placing the photograph back into the drawer, you snuggle into the sheets taking in Anon's scent mixed with the scent of your sex.

                                            >A mare can dream, right?


                                            -----


                                            >You walk down the hallway, trolley in toll.

                                            >Whenever you pass a ledge on the wall, you hang some lavender flowers onto it before moving on to the next one.

                                            >This should help all your little ponies sleep easy.

                                            >It has been a long day, after all.

                                            >Everypony deserves some respite.

                                            >Hanging the flowers onto the next ledge, you pass your sister's room.

                                            >She must be really tired too, you think to yourself as you place a bush by her door.

                                            >As you were about to leave, the door opens behind you.

                                            >"Good night... Mommy."

                                            >Isn't that your dear nephew?

                                            >He's walking towards you.

                                            >He smells of your sister, and wine.

                                            >Did she!?

                                            >No.

                                            >She wouldn't have.

                                            >She wouldn’t dare.

                                            >"Aunt Luna."

                                            "Nephew, what are you doing up so late?"

                                            >"I swear, you and mother ask the same questions."

                                            "Can’t an aunt be worried for the wellbeing of her beloved nephew?" you ask, arching an eyebrow, but receive no reply.

                                            >He picks up a bunch of flowers and places it on the next ledge with ease, then returns to you.

                                            "Are you not tired, nephew?"

                                            >"A little. But I can stay up for a little longer."

                                            >He reaches into the trolley and picks out another bunch of flowers.

                                            >"Shall we?" he asks, bouncing on his heels.

                                            "Of course."

                                            >You continue placing flowers on the ledges with your dear nephew, making small talk along the way.

                                            "A certain pony told me that you were in the gardens earlier."

                                            >"Yes, I needed some fresh air."

                                            "With Princess Nadya?" you ask, using your magic to levitate a bunch of the flowers to a ledge your nephew cannot reach.

                                            >"Oh, she came after me."

                                            "What for?"

                                            >"Well, she professed her eternal love to me, and I turned her down."

                                            >You let out a small sigh.

                                            "Anonymous, you mustn’t be so harsh to all the mares you meet."

                                            >"I'm quite sure I was gentle, all things considered."

                                            "Oh?"

                                            >"At least she didn't cry."

                                            "Anonymous!"

                                            >"Calm down Aunt Luna, it wasn't that bad." He says flatly and places some flowers on the ledge.

                                            "I'll hold you to those words," You huff.

                                            >The both of you continue your banter until the last of the flowers disappear from the trolley.

                                            >You head back to your room, and your nephew follows suit until you reach the doors.

                                            >"Good night, Auntie Lulu."

                                            "Good night, Anonymous. Sweet Dreams."

                                            >He heads the other direction and you shut the door behind you.

                                            >Auntie Lulu

                                            >Heh

                                            >He has not called you that in years.

                                            >He must be drunk.

                                            >That's good.

                                            >Your precious nephew needs to rest his worries once in a while.

                                            >He's been so tense recently.

                                            >Always tossing and turning in his sleep.

                                            >He would keep kicking his blanket off the bed.

                                            >It's a good thing he has you to cover him while he sleeps.

                                            >...

                                            >You head to your bed and fill a glass of wine.

                                            >A little should be no problem.

                                            >Finishing the glass in one gulp, you stride to your balcony, closing the doors behind you.

                                            >Don't want those pesky morning birds flying into your room again.

                                            >Standing outside your room, you prepare the spell to enter your demesne, the dream realm.

                                            >It is a lonely one, but your task is yours alone to bear.

                                            >The spell is complete, your horn glows up and all fades to darkness.

                                            >You find yourself within the dream real.

                                            >One by one, motes of blue light reveal themselves to you, drawing your attention.

                                            >These are the dreams of your little ponies.

                                            >Their hopes, and fears.

                                            >You sift through them, seeking anything that resembles a nightmare, but it seems most of your little ponies are sleeping soundly tonight.

                                            >A few dreams about infinite hay falling out of their saddle pouches, but nothing overly scary.

                                            >You drift along in the dream realm lazily, letting the currents take you.

                                            >Not many duties for you tonight.

                                            >You wonder what your nephew is dreaming of.

                                            >Navigating yourself through the sea of lights, you arrive at a small mote.

                                            >It belonged to your precious, darling nephew.

                                            >Cradling the dream, you peer in, taking care not to interrupt anything.

                                            >He was sitting on your back, riding you around.

                                            >Your sister sat nearby, watching him play and sipping tea.

                                            >You remember this.

                                            >Anonymous was... seven? Eight, maybe.

                                            >He would be too big to carry around now.

                                            >"Auntie Lulu! Mush!"

                                            >"Anonymous, Auntie Lulu can’t go any faster."

                                            >"Mush!"

                                            >Holding the dream close to your chest, you drift with it for a few moments, savouring its warmth.

                                            >You missed those moments.

                                            >He really grew up too quickly.

                                            >It warms your heart to know that he would still call you Aunt Lulu after all these years.

                                            >Even if he was a little drunk.

                                            >You are jostled from your thoughts when the dream in your chest grows cold.

                                            >Your precious nephew was having a nightmare.

                                            >But how?

                                            >He was having such a good dream.

                                            >Every second, the dream grows colder and colder within your grasp.

                                            >You have to intervene, lest it becomes a night terror.

                                            >Entering the dream, you were completely engulfed within darkness.

                                            >You could hear only the ragged breathing of what you expected to be your nephew.

                                            >He was running.

                                            >No. He was chasing, something. Somepony.

                                            >You attempt to gain sight on what he is chasing, but the darkness kept everything hidden.

                                            >Even from you.

                                            >But you could feel warmth coming from the direction he was running in.

                                            >And the smell of lavender.

                                            >You face your nephew, but it seems he could not see you.

                                            >This is bad.

                                            >You had to wake him.

                                            >But how?

                                            >Think, Luna.

                                            >That's right! You could help him catch whatever he was chasing.

                                            >Forcing your will upon the dream, you attempt to forcefully shorten the distance between your nephew and the warmth.

                                            >However, your efforts seem to be unneeded as your nephew reaches the by his own efforts.

                                            >In front of him, lay a radiant orb that emanated a gentle warmth.

                                            >You recognise this warmth.

                                            >It was sunlight.

                                            >You could also smell the fragrance of lavender.

                                            >It's almost as if you were standing in the fields yourself.

                                            >But Anonymous has never been to the lavender fields.

                                            >How did he know what it smelled like?

                                            >You look back at your nephew.

                                            >The orb laid right before him, but he was hesitant for some reason.

                                            >Tentatively, he reached forward to touch it.

                                            >That's right.

                                            >Take the orb, and return to sweet dreams, Anonymous.

                                            >Grabbing the orb, he holds it with both his arms.

                                            >And suddenly, with a shout of pain, he bursts into flames.

                                            >But even when set alight, your nephew refuses to release the orb.

                                            >Instead, he holds it tighter to his chest.

                                            >Why would he want something so dangerous?

                                            >Before you could follow the train of thought, your nephew is dropped, and begins falling, down and down, into the dark abyss.

                                            ”Anonymous!”

                                            >You dash forward to catch him, but you could not touch him.

                                            >Horn aglow, you cast a spell to forcefully end the dream.

                                            >But your spell could not find a hold on the dream, and instead fizzles out of existence.

                                            >Nothing in this dream made sense.

                                            >This was supposed to be your realm.

                                            >How are you incapable of helping your nephew in his time of need?

                                            >Your nephew's descent is stopped with a sickening crack as his back hits a surface.

                                            >From him, the fire begins to spread to the surrounding dreamscape.

                                            >But your nephew, bloodied and burnt, cradles the orb still.

                                            >Like a father with a new born foal.

                                            >Almost as if he was afraid of hurting it.

                                            >The fires, glowing brightly, spread, and the entire dreamscape begins to heat up, while the smell of Lavender overpowers your senses.

                                            >You shield your eyes with your foreleg, attempting to block the light.

                                            >In moments, the dreamscape becomes blindingly bright before becoming dim once more.


                                            >The next thing you sensed unnerved you.

                                            >It was a strong smell.

                                            >A smell that hung in the air, refusing to leave your nose.

                                            >It was sickeningly sweet, musky, and pungent, with a slight hint of iron.

                                            >Opening your eyes, you are greeted to the sight of beautiful room, with walls of pristine marble.

                                            >Red carpets, embroidered with golden thread covered the floors and the walls were lined with many windows, light streaming in through all of them.

                                            >It was all so beautiful, until a piece of furniture catches your eye.

                                            >The bed.

                                            >It was a large bed, mayhap used by royalty, large enough for two.

                                            >Differing from the rest of the room, the bed did not look a bit majestic.

                                            >It was nightmarish with its frame lined with bloody thorns

                                            >One of the bedposts had the motif of a snake climbing to the heavens and consuming the sun, and another, the moon.

                                            >The sheets of the bed were not made, and you discover the source of the smell.

                                            >It was the scent of intercourse in the air.

                                            >There was a small patch of blood on the bed, mayhap somepony lost their virginity?

                                            >"Ah, there you are." a voice called out.

                                            >That was a mare's voice, but you could not recognise it.

                                            >Nor could you see the source.

                                            >It was just a disembodied voice.

                                            >"I was wondering where you were."

                                            >"Just looking out the windows, the lavenders are beautiful today."

                                            >Turning around, you see your precious nephew dressed in a white suit, and a yellow jacket.

                                            >On his chest, lies a pitch black tie, embedded with small diamonds, shining ever so brightly on the dark fabric.

                                            >Almost like a piece of the night sky.

                                            >He was sitting by a window, peering outwards, not turning to look at the voice.

                                            >Oddly, there is a golden choker on his throat despite the tie.

                                            >It was carved intricately, and many gems of different colours laid within it.

                                            >Looking down, you see a beautiful bangle on his wrist, with a similar design as the choker.

                                            >The same bangles are on his ankles.

                                            >The bangles are all joined with fine chains

                                            >Did your nephew not despise complicated jewellery?

                                            >You remember him cut himself on a set of them by accident.

                                            >He was fifteen years of age.

                                            >"I don't know why you bother with those flowers, really."

                                            >"They help me sleep."

                                            >"Well, anyways, your mother is here, let’s go meet her."

                                            >"Yes, dear." you hear your nephew say half-heartedly.

                                            >He follows the voice, and you trail behind him.

                                            >The hallway had many different windows, all of them shut tightly.

                                            >Some windows showed a sunset.

                                            >Some full moons.

                                            >Some dusk.

                                            >Some dawn.

                                            >How odd.

                                            >You arrive at what seems to be a throne room, and see Anonymous seated on one of the thrones.

                                            >A distorted limb was placed on his hand, morphing from one shape to another.

                                            >You can feel the disgust coming from your nephew.

                                            >The limb would shift its shapes constantly, never settling on one for more than a few seconds before changing again.

                                            >Paw, claws, talon, hoof, pincer.

                                            >"Her Royal Majesty, Princess Celestia!"

                                            >"Her Royal Majesty, Princess Luna!"

                                            >You see Celestia and yourself enter the throne room.

                                            >The disembodied voice from before offers its greeting to you and your sister.

                                            >"It is an honour and privilege to have you with us today."

                                            >"We are glad you have invited us, it has been long since we last saw Anonymous.

                                            >"Are you well, Anonymous?" your sister turns to ask Anonymous.

                                            >Your nephew tries to speak, but no sound comes out.

                                            >He tries again, but not a word escapes his mouth.

                                            >You see his fingers run across the choker before gripping the arms of his throne.

                                            >His fingers begin turning white as he answers your sister coldly.

                                            >"I am well, Celestia. Thank you for your concern."

                                            >"As you can see, my husband is in great health." the disembodied voice says, leading you and your sister to the doors.

                                            >"Now, how about we get to business?"

                                            >"Of course," your sister agrees, turning around to look at Anonymous before leaving the throne room, the heavy doors slamming behind her.

                                            >Your nephew stays motionless on the throne, his face calm and composed.

                                            >Until the hoofsteps fade away into the distance.

                                            >Like a sandcastle meeting the waves of the sea, your nephew's facade crumbles.

                                            >Placing his face into his hands, he begins to sob uncontrollably.

                                            >It pains you, seeing him overtaken by grief like this.

                                            >It pains you even more to know that there is nothing you can do to soothe his troubles.

                                            >The lights from the windows begin to fade.

                                            >You can see his radiant attire beginning to lose its shine gradually as the room darkens.

                                            >You try place a hoof onto his shoulder, in attempt to comfort him, but your hoof phases through him.

                                            >You were supposed to be a goddess of the night.

                                            >A protector, a guardian.

                                            >Not some voyeuristic spirit.

                                            >. . .

                                            >Some goddess you were.

                                            >You couldn't even provide solace to the colt you love.

                                            >You couldn’t even touch him.

                                            >

                                            >Touch!

                                            >Horn glowing, you close your eyes, pray for the best, and let the spell loose.

                                            >You open your eyes to find yourself back in the material realm.

                                            >Rushing to your nephew's room, you undo the lock from the other side, and slide into the room.

                                            >Walking up to his bed, you see him now.

                                            >His blanket was on the floor again.

                                            >His pillow was stained with teardrops, and his body trembles ever so slightly in the cold.

                                            >You use a wing to wipe the tears off his face.

                                            >Lifting his head gently, you switch his pillow with another, throwing the wet one onto the floor.

                                            >The maids can take care of it tomorrow.

                                            >You climb onto his bed and lie behind him, holding him within your fore hooves, then enveloping him within your wings.

                                            >Using your magic, you lift his blanket off the floor and hover it over the both of you, setting it down gently until it covers the both of you.

                                            >There.

                                            >It's warm now.

                                            >If anypony catches you here… it would certainly mean the end of the reputation you have been trying to build for the last three decades.

                                            >You can see the headlines already.

                                            >Princess of the night, molester of stallions.

                                            >But it does not matter.

                                            >Your sweet prince is troubled.

                                            >Who else will comfort him, if not you.

                                            >Holding him close, you begin brushing his hair with a spell.

                                            >Your prince stirs from his sleep slightly.

                                            >"Who ish it?"

                                            "It's all right, it is just Auntie Lulu."

                                            >Whining something unintelligible, your nephew tries to get up, but you hold him in your hooves.

                                            "Ssh, go to sleep now. Auntie Lulu is here to protect you."

                                            >With another mumble, your nephew returns to slumber and you continue brushing his hair with much care.

                                            >You look at the colt in front of you.

                                            >So precious.

                                            >So lovely.

                                            >Why did he have to be your nephew?

                                            >Why did Celestia have to adopt him?

                                            >In another life, the both of you could be-

                                            >You stop that line of thought.

                                            >It's not healthy.

                                            >He is your precious prince now.

                                            >And it is your duty as aunt to protect him.

                                            >Once again peering into his dreams, you see yourself walking beside Anon.

                                            >The both of you were walking down a path paved with red leaves.

                                            >You remember this.

                                            >This was from the Autumn Moon festival.

                                            >He wanted to show you a path he found while he was hiking.

                                            >It was beautiful, with all the leaves red, and the dirt path paved with the crisp red leaves.

                                            >The both of you followed that trail to the top of the hill, where you could see the distant hamlet of Ponyville.

                                            >On that hill, you spent the night with him, bundled in blankets, gazing at the stars until the sun rose.

                                            >It was a marvellous night.

                                            >You miss it so much.

                                            >[spoiler]Why did he have to be your nephew?[/spoiler]


                                            -----


                                            >Stacking the last of the finished paperwork into a neat pile, you set it aside for Raven to sort through in the later.

                                            >The Grand Galloping Gala didn't stop your work from piling up.

                                            >And you were at least three days behind.

                                            >You really need a cup of tea now.

                                            >A knock is heard before your sister enters the room, uninvited.

                                            >"Sister, we must talk."

                                            "Luna, you're up early." you place your reading glasses onto your desk. "What's the matter?"

                                            >"It is Anonymous."

                                            "What happened!?"

                                            >Your mind races thinking of that could have gone wrong.

                                            >Was he caught in an accident?

                                            >No, that's impossible, he didn't say anything about leaving the castle today.

                                            >But what if he left without telling you.

                                            >Surely he must have taken some guards with him.

                                            >What if he didn't?

                                            >What if he was mugged?

                                            >No, that wouldn't be possible

                                            >He was a big colt.

                                            >But what if it was actually a kidnapping?

                                            >Was it one of the ambassadors?

                                            >Did they do this?

                                            >Which one?

                                            >The griffons?

                                            >What if it was one of those damned cows.

                                            >You've seen how the look at your son.

                                            >Like he was a piece of meat.

                                            >"Sister!" your sister shouts, breaking you from your thoughts.

                                            "Is he hurt!? Where is he!?"

                                            >"Calm down, Anonymous is having tea with Blueblood in the gardens."

                                            >Oh.

                                            >You feel silly now.

                                            >"We feel that there is a need to consult you regarding our dear nephew's current state of mind."

                                            "Why? Is something wrong?"

                                            >"Our dear nephew was having a nightmare the other day."

                                            "What was it about?"

                                            >"He dreamt that he was in a palace, built with marble.

                                            "That hardly sounds like a nightmare."

                                            >"Let me finish, sister.

                                            >"His arms and legs were bound in chains, but the chains were beautifully crafted."

                                            "He was a slave?"

                                            >"We do not know, but if he was, then he was well looked after.

                                            >"There was more to this dream."

                                            >You sit back, and gesture for your sister to continue.

                                            >"In the middle of the room was a bed, it was disarranged and smelled foul."

                                            "Smelled foul?"

                                            >"It smelled like a night of passion, and there was a patch of blood on the bed as well."

                                            >It takes you a few seconds to process what your sister has just said before coming to the realization.

                                            "He was raped!?"

                                            >"We think not, he was married to a mare."

                                            "Who?"

                                            >"We do not know, we did not see the mare, only hear her voice.

                                            >The room fell into a strange silence.

                                            >You did not know what to say

                                            >"We think our nephew fears that future, married to an unknown mare, living his life within a gilded stable.

                                            >"We must ask you, sister. Have you asked our dear nephew to wed anypony?"

                                            "No! I merely suggested..."

                                            >"Suggested what, sister?"

                                            "I asked him to find a lover for himself."

                                            >Your sister's face scrunches up, troubled.

                                            >"He might have mistaken your intentions, sister."

                                            >You try to recall your conversation with Anonymous two nights ago.

                                            >You thought that you were offering him good, motherly advice.

                                            >Find a good mare, settle down.

                                            >Maybe have a foal or two.

                                            >Did you push him too hard?

                                            "I will speak to him about it when I have the chance."

                                            >"Sister, we do not think you should dawdle over it,"

                                            "Don't worry, Luna. I will do it the moment I can."

                                            "Raven!"

                                            >"Yes Your Highness?

                                            "Deliver a message to Anonymous.

                                            "Tell him I want to speak with him at dinner."

                                            >"Of course, Your Highness."


                                            -----


                                            >You are Raven, a very busy pony that has no time for this.

                                            >For SOME REASON the butlers are arguing in the corridor.

                                            >They could be doing this within their dorms, but nooo~.

                                            >They had to get in your way, didn't they?

                                            >Looking at a clock on the wall, you only have a half an hour before the princesses began dinner.

                                            >And yet Prince Anonymous is nowhere to be found.

                                            >Maybe he's in the gardens?

                                            >But it is already dark out.

                                            >Why would he be in the gardens at night?

                                            >But the garden is the only area you have not searched yet.

                                            >Might as well give it a try.

                                            >Walking back down the hallway, you find the door that connects to the garden, and run outside.

                                            >The night air is crisp and fresh.

                                            >You've really been cooped in the offices for far too long.

                                            >Looking around you, you see that most of the flowers have closed for the night.

                                            >The hedges begin to look like dark walls, closing in on you.

                                            >Shaking the thought away, you continue searching the gardens.

                                            >The gardens are a little scary at night.

                                            >Why would Prince Anonymous be in the gardens anyway?

                                            >This is silly, you should just turn back.

                                            >No! You are a brave pony, Raven.

                                            >You will search this entire garden if that's what it takes.

                                            >Walking further down to the fountains, you head where the moonblossoms are.

                                            >They were always your favourite flowers.

                                            >Come Autumn, they would bloom at night and illuminate the garden.

                                            >Princess Luna once said it looked a little like the dream realm.

                                            >Of course, it's still spring.

                                            >And so this part of the garden is completely dark.

                                            >Perfect for monsters to ambush you.

                                            >Suddenly, you hear footsteps behind you.

                                            >With a soft yelp, you dive into one of the hedges.

                                            >That sounded like a big creature.

                                            >Was it a manticore?

                                            >No, it had two legs.

                                            >Wait, that's Prince Anonymous!

                                            >What's he doing here so late?


                                            -----


                                            >You and your sister sit at the dining table waiting for your son.

                                            >The soups arrive, but your son has not.

                                            >You're not going to start dinner without your sunshine.

                                            >And apparently, so is Luna.

                                            >A quarter hour later, the chef informs you that the appetizers are ready.

                                            >But your son is still nowhere to be seen.

                                            >Where is he?

                                            >He's never late for dinner.

                                            >Is he in trouble?

                                            >No, he's a grown colt.

                                            >But what if he is?

                                            >"Do you think we should send some guards to search for him?"

                                            >It's better to be safe than sorry.

                                            >You stand up.

                                            "I'm going to search for Anonymous."

                                            >"We will go too."

                                            "No Luna, I need you to stay here in case Anonymous is late."

                                            >"Very well, I shall direct a sending spell your way should he come later."

                                            >Rushing out the doors, you ask the first guard you see.

                                            "Polished Spear."

                                            >"Yes Ma'am!"

                                            "Ask all castle staff to direct Anonymous to the dining hall if they see him."

                                            >"Yes Ma'am!"

                                            >The colt rushes off and you head in the opposite direction.

                                            >The palace covered, the only other place he could be is Canterlot.

                                            >If that's the case, you should fly there.

                                            >Heading out to the gardens, you head to the departure point for pegasi.

                                            >It would make your journey to Canterlot a lot faster.

                                            >But you are stopped dead in your tracks when you hear a melody in the air.

                                            >Somepony was humming.

                                            >No.

                                            >You knew that voice.

                                            https://youtu.be/ZTo9hXpLuO0

                                            >Navigating the bushes, you follow the humming until you arrive at the moonblossom hedges.

                                            >There he is.

                                            >Your son was sitting on a stone bench, his toga draped across him lazily.

                                            >Softly, your son's voice drifts through the garden.

                                            >"So many times out there, I've watched a happy pair, of lovers walking in the night."

                                            >His voice, smooth and melodic, drifted through the air.

                                            >"They had a kind of glow around them, it almost looked like heaven's light"

                                            >You see a blue light coming from where he was facing.

                                            >Was he holding a lantern?

                                            >"I wished I'd never knew, that warm and loving glow, and I still wish with all my might"

                                            >Beginning from the ones closest to him, the moonblossoms begin to flower.

                                            >One by one, the newly grown buds bloom into silver coloured flowers, emanating a bluish light.

                                            >"No love as selfish as my love, was ever meant to see the light."

                                            >The moonblossoms begin to dim as the music dies down.

                                            >It was definitely not a natural occurrence.

                                            >An ethereal figure appears beside him, and he turns to face it.

                                            >"I already have my mother and my aunt" he says, holding its hooves, "to ask for more is a crime."

                                            >"My feelings in this are irrelevant."

                                            >The ethereal figure waves its hooves wildly, almost as if it were displeased with him, but you cannot hear a thing.

                                            >"For the future of Equestria, my love is a small price to pay."

                                            >Before your mind could wander, the music continues, and Anonymous begins singing again.

                                            >"Remembering the ways that they smiled at me, and kissed my cheeks on those scary nights.

                                            >As he continues, the flowers that have not wilted bloomed once more, this time glowing brighter than ever.

                                            >"I, till now, know that she, my mother, cares for me.

                                            >"And my aunt's all the same despite,

                                            >"Her worrying nature that's why,

                                            >"My love must never see the light."

                                            >His voice trails off, and with the flowers begin to lose their glow quickly.

                                            >A few have already wilted and fell to the ground.

                                            >Soon, the garden falls into total darkness.

                                            >The bushes rustle and you hear a voice.

                                            >"Prince Anonymous, I've been looking for you."

                                            >You nearly jump at Raven's voice.

                                            >Turning around, you run back into the castle, thoughts clouding your mind.


                                            -----


                                            >The events after the song in the garden all seemed like a blur

                                            >You remember having dinner with Anonymous.

                                            >He was talking about something when Blueblood came in, announcing his return from the crystal empire.

                                            >He had the steward take his luggage away, and complained about the trip home.

                                            >Then dinner ended, and you returned to your respective rooms.

                                            >And now, you're here, laying in bed.

                                            >Tossing and turning.

                                            >Your pillows, made with the softest of pegasi down feathers, did not help put you to sleep.

                                            >Your mind runs with thoughts of the garden.

                                            >What you saw there was impossible.

                                            >Moonblossoms did not bloom in spring.

                                            >It was without a doubt, magic.

                                            >But that was impossible.

                                            >Anonymous doesn't have an affinity for magic.

                                            >You had him tested.

                                            >Even if he did, this was ridiculous.

                                            >An earth pony couldn't grow plants this fast.

                                            >Your mind returns to the garden once more.

                                            >Anonymous was beautiful as ever, his toga shimmering in the moonlight.

                                            >And then he began singing.

                                            >His mournful song.

                                            >The realization hits you.

                                            >If the magic did not come from within, then it must have come from the world.

                                            >And there was one magic that all races shared.

                                            >A powerful magic that comes in the form of a song.

                                            >A song comes from the soul, projecting the soul onto reality.

                                            >Warping the world around it.

                                            >The Heartsong.

                                            >You've seen it many times in your life

                                            >It would always happen when two ponies fell in love.

                                            >When two halves become whole.

                                            >But it was always a duet.

                                            >Why was your son singing alone?

                                            >Ah...

                                            >He was waiting for somepony to return his song.

                                            >Your thoughts return to his song.

                                            >A selfish love, he called it.

                                            >Anon loves somepony.

                                            >Anon loves somepony, and he was willing to give it all up for you.

                                            >A sinking feeling settles within your chest as your ears and tail fall limp.

                                            >Anon loves somepony, and it's not you.

                                            >You should be happy for him, Celestia.

                                            >Your sunshine is all grown up now.

                                            >He was always going to leave you.

                                            >One day, he was going to become somepony's husband.

                                            >You knew that.

                                            >He isn't your first foster child.

                                            >Twilight is basically your daughter in all but name.

                                            >You were ready.

                                            >You've prepared yourself for this.

                                            >You've prepared for this from the start.

                                            >You're his mother, not his lover.

                                            >This was bound to happen.

                                            >You're ready for this.

                                            >[spoiler]Why does it hurt so much this time?[/spoiler]


                                            -----


                                            >You barely got any sleep last night.

                                            >It's still dark out but your body tells you that it's about time to raise the sun.

                                            >Cracking open your dry eyes, you look at your pillow.

                                            >You don't feel like getting up.

                                            >But you must.

                                            >If not for yourself, then for your little ponies.

                                            >What's with that attitude?

                                            >It's a new day.

                                            >And you know today is going to be a good day.

                                            >You can feel it!

                                            >Pushing yourself off the bed, you sluggishly head towards the veranda.

                                            >You look into your horizon, extending your consciousness, searching for the warm, ever glowing, golden orb.

                                            >There it is.

                                            >Enveloping the warmth, you cradle it in your magic, then gently lift it up.

                                            >Don't want to startle your little ponies.

                                            >As the sun begins its slow ascent across the plains, you set a few spells in motion, ensuring that the sun continues to climb on its own.

                                            >You watch for a few more minutes, making sure that there are no faults in the spell.

                                            >The last time you miscalculated, the sun was moving horizontally.

                                            >The ponies were groggy for the entire day.

                                            >At the pace of a snail, the sun ascends into the sky beginning its journey.

                                            >After some final adjustments, you head back into your room.

                                            >The night shift butlers bring in your towels silently before retreating with a bow.

                                            >They're always so prim and proper.

                                            >You wash up and head towards the kitchen.

                                            >After getting Fine Dining to retreat from his post [spoiler]goodness knows how hard it is to get a colt to relinquish their kitchen[/spoiler], you begin making pancakes.

                                            >Luna likes blueberries on hers, and Anonymous likes his plain with butter and honey.

                                            >Since this would be like a midnight snack for Luna, you made her less pancakes and put more fruit on her plate.

                                            >Half an hour later, you look on with pride as three plates of pancakes sit before you.

                                            >Fine Dining couldn't have done any better if he wanted to.

                                            >Bringing the three plates to the table, you hum a simple tune as you wait for the rest of your family.

                                            >Luna enters first, worn out from her 'day'.

                                            "Luna, I made pancakes!"

                                            >She offers you a tired smile and looks at the table.

                                            >"Thank you, Sister. I will have them in my chambers."

                                            >Picking up the plate with the least food, she saunters out of the hall and closes the door behind her.

                                            >Now all that's left is to wait for Anonymous

                                            >Just as you finished the thought, you hear the door open behind you.

                                            >Anonymous enters the room with a quickly stifled yawn.

                                            >"Good morning, mother."

                                            "Good morning, Sunshine. I made pancakes!"

                                            >"Thank you, mother."

                                            >Taking a seat on the other end of the table, Anon uses his hands to pick up the utensils.

                                            >It's always fun watching Anonymous eat.

                                            >Only unicorns use utensils since earth ponies and pegasi can't grab them well.

                                            >Yet, despite not having magic, Anon uses the utensils so well, almost as if they were made for his hands.

                                            >Celestia, you're staring.

                                            >"Mother?"

                                            >Oh no, he's seen you.

                                            >Say something.

                                            >Anything.

                                            "Isn't the weather nice today?"

                                            >Well handled, Celestia

                                            >"Oh yes, but Stormy Cloud told me that it's going to be cloudy tomorrow."

                                            "That's nice, it has been a little sunny recently."

                                            >"Mhm"

                                            >Anon resumes eating quietly and you return to your meal too.

                                            >The silence is killing you.

                                            "So how was your day?"

                                            >"Mother, I just woke up."

                                            "Oh. That's right. How silly of me."

                                            >Blushing slightly, pick up your utensils.

                                            >"Is everything all right, mother?

                                            "Yes, everything is fine. Why would you think something is wrong?"

                                            >"You have been acting rather strange, mother."

                                            "Really?"

                                            >"Mother, you just asked me how my day was. It's obvious there's something on your mind."

                                            >Anonymous gives you a concerned look.

                                            >"If any of the ambassadors are giving you trouble-"

                                            "I'm fine, Anonymous. Thank you."

                                            >Anonymous continues eating, cutting the pancakes into little pieces and placing them into his mouth.

                                            >After a while, Anonymous sets his utensils down.

                                            >"Raven told me you wanted to talk yesterday."

                                            "I did? I did!"

                                            >"What did you want to tell me?"

                                            "I forgot. Dear me, I must be getting old."

                                            >"Are you sure? It seemed important."

                                            "I'm sorry, Sunshine. I seem to be getting so forgetful."

                                            >"It's all right mother. Take your time."

                                            >You look down at your untouched plate of pancakes.

                                            >Ooh, a blackcurrant.

                                            >Using a fork, you swat it to a-

                                            >Celestia, what are you doing?

                                            >You can't keep putting this off.

                                            >But maybe if-

                                            >No.

                                            >You're a grown mare.

                                            >It's time to face reality.

                                            >Looking up, you face Anonymous and look him in the eyes.

                                            "Sunshine.

                                            "Do you remember the talk we had after the gala?"

                                            >Anonymous's face darkens slightly.

                                            >"Yes, mother."

                                            "You've always been a very pragmatic colt, Anonymous.

                                            "You love the little ponies as much as I do.

                                            "That's why you always place Equestria before yourself.

                                            "But I'm your mother, and I wish for your happiness.

                                            "I don't want you to choose a lover from the court or the nobility if you don't want to.

                                            "You're free to love a common mare so long as she's a good and honest.

                                            "Just this once, I want you to seek your own happiness."

                                            >An awkward silence falls upon the dining hall, punctuated by brief noises by the castle staff outside, going about their duties.

                                            >"I see," Anon finally says without conviction, his eyebrows knit together, troubled.

                                            >"Thank you for making pancakes, mother," Anonymous says, standing from his seat, "They were delicious."

                                            >He pushes his seat towards the table and turns around, closing the door behind him gently.

                                            >The love of your life has just walked out of the room.

                                            >But you're a grown mare.

                                            >So you don't cry.

                                            >Huh.

                                            >The pancakes are salty toda