/sun/ /Completed/ Comfy hugs and exciting books


                                            >You are feeling the warmth.

                                            >You are basking in it, savoring every moment of your existence within the reach of this wonderful feeling.

                                            >It envelops you like a puffy ethereal cloud.

                                            >Like a something so good you cannot even imagine it existing.

                                            >But amazingly enough it's not a figment of your imagination.

                                            >It's real.

                                            >Feathers are touching your face.  Tickling your skin.

                                            >Feathers of the enormous white wing, that encompasses your body almost wholly.

                                            >It presses against you, cradles you, delicate and  gentle yet unyielding and reliable.

                                            >You couldn't have been anywhere safer in the whole world, even if you've been hiding beyond the wall of armored concrete.

                                            >But it's not the only thing that keeps you warm and cozy.

                                            >You shift yourself a bit and turn to the side.

                                            >Spread your arms and embrace the large white flank, nuzzling the short velvet fur, hugging tighter on the hot taut flesh.

                                            >You emit a content, satisfied hum.

                                            >The wing opens a little and you open your eyes.

                                            >And see the bottomless magenta eyes on a beautiful elongated face.

                                            >Soft muzzle touches your cheek. She sniffs you and you turn your head to inhale her breath.

                                            >It smells like a gentle spring morning.

                                            >She withdraws her face and smiles.

                                            >"Good morning, Anon. I've already raised the sun, and it's been up for a quite some time."

                                            "Good morning, my Princess!"

                                            >You smile as well.

                                            >She lets you go, folds her wings and stands.

                                            >You admire every motion of her elegant and powerful body.

                                            >The prone position gives you a good look at her underbelly while she towers above you, enveloped in the aurora borealis of her mane and tail.

                                            >You get up as well. And realize that you are still in the Palace Library.

                                            "Oh. Erm..."

                                            >"I decided to not disturb you, dear Anon."

                                            "Thanks... But have you been sleeping here as well? On the floor and not in your chambers?"

                                            >"It's alright. The Library got new carpets recently. So it's rather cozy, as you might've found out."

                                            "I just've been writing down that book you said you would've liked to read. I guess I got tired and fell asleep."

                                            >"That book from your world talked about? About politics, a brave knight and his love?

                                            "Yep, Quentin Durward."

                                            >"Thank you, Anon. You really shouldn't have been- Did you write it down from memory?"

                                            "Yes, but it proved to be much harder than I thought. Because I had to both remember the exact text and translate it to Equestrian."

                                            >She doesn't answer right away. Instead, she silently looks at you for a several moments.

                                            >"You know, it's actually fascinating to observe somebody who knows nothing about magic means of doing anything. Unaccustomed to ever present shortcuts it provides."

                                            >"It makes your dedication ten times more valuable."

                                            >"Like when you've learned the language yourself, without the tutoring spell."

                                            "So, a unicorn would've conjured it right away or something?"

                                            >"Well, not a regular unicorn, of course, but-"

                                            >She looks like she wants to say more, but decides against it.

                                            >You shrug.

                                            "Didn't think about it honestly. I just wanted to do something nice for you. I can imagine it's exciting to read a book from completely different world."

                                            >She laughs.

                                            >"You better be careful around a certain faithful student of mine. She would enslave you for your knowledge!"

                                            >You laugh as well, but also shudder.

                                            >Because you vividly imagine a purple unicorn mare locking you in the dungeon under the Ponyville Library. And making you write down every book you've ever read at your homeworld.

                                            >Meanwhile, your stomach grumbles.

                                            >Celestia giggles some more and then makes a serious face again.

                                            >"The breakfast is long overdue. Would you like to teleport something here for you to eat?"

                                            "Thanks, but I rather go fetch something at the mess hall. I like to walk around the castle, it's so beautiful!"

                                            >The Princess smiles.

                                            >"By all means suit yourself."

                                            >You both walk towards the doors.

                                            "After the breakfast I'll write some more. It's a big book though, so progress would be slow."

                                            >"I see. In this case, I would ask you to wait for the evening. After the Day Court is adjourned, I'll join you and help you write it down. I want to experience the book together with you."

                                            "Yes. Yes, of course. Although, I wonder how would you help me write it down faster. Is it some more magic?"

                                            >"Wait and see for yourself, my dear Anon."

                                            ***

                                            >It's an evening.

                                            >You stand at the one of the palace galleries, watching the sky.

                                            >The bright yellow sun sets beyond the horizon in a dignified manner.

                                            >You cast a glance at the tall white tower, nearest to you, and discern a dark alicorn silhouette on the balcony.

                                            >Even from the distance you see the bright blue glow of her horn.

                                            >In a moment the darkened night sky becomes adorned with a scattering of stars.

                                            >The large silvery moon slowly sails out from behind the mountains and reaches zenith, showing off its splendor.

                                            >The dark alicorn leaves the balcony to replace her older sister in the Throne Room.

                                            >You also go away from the gallery, heading to the library wing.

                                            >Once at the library, you sit on a huge pillow near one of the desks.

                                            >After a while the door opens.

                                            >Celestia walks in, beautiful as ever. Her presence radiates majesty.

                                            >You smile and take the paper and pen from the writing table, ready for whatever the Princess has planned.

                                            >She approaches you and lowers herself onto the floor, pressing her side to your back.

                                            >You lean on her, once again basking in her gentle warmth.

                                            "So, how will we do it?"

                                            >Her magic engulfs pen and paper in your hands.

                                            >She puts the pen back on the table but leaves the paper in the air near her.

                                            >"I'll be writing it down."

                                            "Uh... So I'll dictate what I remember to you and you'll write it down?"

                                            >"In a way, yes."

                                            >Her golden aura surrounds inkwell and ink flies out of it, small black sphere floating like in zero-g.

                                            >"Now, relax. Try to remember what have you read and what you want to tell me."

                                            >She looks you in the eyes.

                                            >At the back of your consciousness you hear a quiet silky whisper.

                                            >You try to discern what it says, focus on it...

                                            ***

                                            ...On the bank of some brook, opposite to that which the traveller was approaching, two men, who appeared in deep conversation, seemed, from time to time, to watch his motions.

                                            'Traveller? Brook? Wha-'

                                            >You can smell the stale brook water, feel the chilly coolness of a cold morning.

                                            >And you see the traveller.

                                            >A young lad, perhaps in his late teens, but insanely fit and wiry, nothing like any of the high school boys you’ve ever seen.

                                            >Dressed in some short gray cloak and some other garments you don’t know names for.

                                            >His head is adorned with a blue barret.

                                            >As he descended the rugged bank to the water's edge, with the light step of a roe which visits the fountain, the younger of the two men on the other bank said to the other,

                                            > “It is our man—it is the Bohemian! If he attempts to cross the ford, he is a lost man—the water is up, and the ford impassable.”

                                            >“Let him make that discovery himself, gossip,” said the elder personage; “it may, perchance, save a rope and break a proverb.”

                                            >“I judge him by the blue cap,” said the other, “for I cannot see his face. Hark, sir; he hallooes to know whether the water be deep.”

                                            >“Nothing like experience in this world,” answered the other, “let him try.”

                                            ‘Fucking what?’

                                            >This is surreal.

                                            >You’re watching the scene from slightly above, like in spectator mode.

                                            >Everything around appears to be real and existing!

                                            >Except for you.

                                            >You feel the cold fear chilling your soul.

                                            >”Anon.”

                                            >You hear a female voice calling for you.

                                            >The warm, motherly tone envelops you, making the morning less chilly, colours around brighter and the fear barely tangible.

                                            >Celestia’s calling you!

                                            >Below, the young lad freezes in place, amidst the motion to probe the water with his sturdy wooden pole.

                                            >The water itself stands still.

                                            >A flock of birds hangs in place in the sky, like still frame.

                                            “My Princess, what is going on?”

                                            >”I’m sorry I frightened you, Anon. Everything is alright.”

                                            ***

                                            >You blink and find yourself once more time in the library.

                                            >Celestia’s warm coat presses against your cheek.

                                            >On the table you see several sheets of paper covered with written words.

                                            >Tiny droplets of ink separate themselves from a larger ball still hanging in the air and splatter against the new sheet, transforming into the letters.

                                            “Wow… That was- That was- What exactly was that?”

                                            >”You were dictating the book to me.”

                                            >She smiles, in a manner both cute and regal at the same time.

                                            >”Anon, I thought you know very well that I and my Sister both can read minds.”

                                            “Yes, but- It was real! I wasn’t just remembering the book, I- I experienced it!”

                                            >Now you realize that it’s actually incredibly cool.

                                            >”Yes, you were. I’m an Alicorn, Anon. That, which doesn’t exist, I CAN make exist. That, which I imagine, I CAN make real.”

                                            >Her wing opens and covers you with it’s feathery splendor.

                                            >You carefully stroke soft white feathers with your hand.

                                            “You aren’t just called so, you ARE the Goddess, the living deity, aren’t you?”

                                            >She lowers her head and nuzzles you.

                                            >”I’m sorry. That way I myself can experience the book with you, feel it like you feel, understand how you view what’s going on. I thought it will be an exciting surprise. After what you’ve told me about the various things in your world, like VR and 5D cinema…”

                                            >She says, ignoring your question.

                                            “It was actually! The coolest thing ever, cooler than Rainbow Dash!”

                                            >Celestia laughs.

                                            >”Do you wish to continue?”

                                            “Yes!”

                                            >You feel like a child going to the Disneyland.

                                            >”Then continue we shall!”

                                            >”I’ll make sure that you feel me by your side all the time from now on. Let’s read it together!”

                                            ***

                                            >“Nothing like experience in this world,” answered the other, “let him try.”

                                            >The birds unfroze, flapping their wings and calling each other while they flew by.

                                            >Water resumed it's splashing and rippling on the wind.

                                            >The young man, in the meanwhile, taking the silence of those to whom he applied as an encouragement to proceed, entered the stream without farther hesitation than the delay necessary to take off his buskins.

                                            >The elder person, at the same moment, hallooed to him to beware, adding, in a lower tone, to his companion, “Mortdieu—gossip—you have made another mistake—this is not the Bohemian chatterer.”

                                            >Feeling as if something powerful, warm, and cozy hugging you tenderly, you prepared for the most exciting movie evening ever.