-CHAPTER XI-
>The long and winding road had led Luna and yourself to a small cottage nestled away in the foothills of the mountains east of Canterlot. 
>It had been languid day’s journey, the two of you making your way down the royal road east at a steady pace. 
>You would have been able to make the journey must faster on your own, but you held your gait to accommodate Luna’s slower walk. 
>With the loss of her magic, titles and wordly burdens, Luna had taken to a much more relaxed, unhurried demeanour in her approach to life. 
>You suspected that, with her magic largely drawn out of her and cast into the brilliant sky above, age was rapidly catching up with the venerable Princess. 
>Your journey had been interrupted frequently, as well. 
>Ponies crossing your path on the road stopped to pay homage to Luna, and she paid careful attention to each and every one of them. 
>Most scraped and bowed in awe of her discarded titles and position – a practice Luna tried her best to discourage, but soon realized was fruitless to resist. 
>The handover of power to Canterlot’s government of nobility and representatives had been laborious, though it had been made as seamless and expedient as Luna had been able to manage.
>After a couple long weeks of council meetings and petitions, Luna had formalized the handoff of power to a delicate balance of elected officials and electors of Equestria’s ancient titles. 
>As with any government not the purview of an immortal, benevolent dictator (which had been Equestria’s law of the land for untold thousands of years), there were bound to be some gaps in issues of administration, succession, sharing of power, and so on. 
>Luna, with your gentle guidance, had realized that if she was going to take personal responsibility for such concerns whenever they appeared, that her abdication would be in name only. 
>With faith established that the government of Canterlot was as responsible and competent as it was ever going to get, she had ripped off the metaphorical band-aid and formally stepped down from all titles and responsibilities, formally and legally becoming a private citizen. 
>That last change was, of course, in name only as well. No pony in Equestria would ever be able to see her as anything other than their beloved Princess of the Night, and Luna seemed to be at peace with that. 

>And so, whenever a passing pony stopped to bow before their beloved Princess, Luna restrained herself from correcting their error. 
>She refused all but the most trivial gifts and offerings when offered, instead urging ponies to share what they had to give with each other in the upcoming days of hardship and need in Equestria. 
>She asked after their families and loved ones, listening intently and passing long stretches in conversation with ponies concerning their dreams and hopes.
>This slowed your journey considerably, but you suspected that even if you tried, Luna would not be dissuaded from what she saw as her duty to her former subjects. 
>You were certain in any case that as you put distance east between the two of you and Canterlot that you would likely encounter less fellow travellers on your way.. 
>So, with a relaxing week’s journey behind the two of you, you make it to the first true destination on your mutual itinerary in what should have been a three day’s walk. 
>Luna perks up under your hand as the bend in the road reveals the cottage – though she’s still very nearly blind, the warm and welcoming lamplight ahead reflects in her greying eyes, brightening her face and drawing a grin from her as you approach. 
>”Oh, is that what I think it is?”
>You pat her back reassuringly.
“A warm, soft bed, firelight and hot food? Certainly looks like it.”
>Luna’s grin widens and she picks up her pace.
>The last week’s travel has been punctuated by camping out under the stars.
>Neither you nor Luna had any complaints about the arrangement so far – her stellar arrangement of the heavens and her magical suffusion of the Moon’s presence overhead had rendered each night pleasantly warm and peaceful. 
>What little chill had crept into your bedroll over the serene nights under the stars had been banished by the presence of your beloved at your side, and she was in her element under the light of the lambent moon. 
>Still, a long journey on foot and earth made one miss the creature comforts of civilisation, and you were looking forward to a roof and bed again. 

>You reach the door – a rustic assembly of rough-hewn planks decorated with floral adornment – and knock gently. 
>After a brief moment you hear the clopping of hooves on the wooden floor beyond, and the door opens to reveal an elderly mare bedecked in a shawl and half-rim glasses. 
>As you’re standing slightly ahead of Luna and in full view of the threshold, she looks you up and down appraisingly. 
>It was a look you hadn’t seen in some time, as the ponies of Canterlot had long since become accustomed to your alien appearance.
>”Hello, hello, welcome to the Shady Thistles, Mr... Creature. How can I help you today? Or, this evening, I suppose.”
>She seems a little flustered, and you hurry to speak up to allay her perplexity.
“Hello ma’am, I was wondering if you had a room open for the night, and some food for my companion and I. We have bits for the accommodations, if they’re available. 
>At mention of your companion she looks past you to survey Luna, who had been serenely standing at your side, absent-mindedly peering out at the stars above. 
>You watch as her expression changes from passivity, to puzzlement, then finally to starstruck awe as she takes in Luna’s height, wings, horn and dappled cutie mark. 
>”Good heavens above, it’s the Princess, at my very door...” she says, under her breath to herself.
>Luna’s ear flicks at the title and she turns to meet the elderly mare’s gaze, a warm and comforting expression settling on her face as she lowers her head in a gentle bow. 
>”Not Princess any more, madame. I expect news from the capital may not have reached your charming establishment quite yet, but please rest assured – We are here only on a personal errand of pleasure, and would be very grateful if you’d allow us to rest and recover for the night.”
>”Of course, of course! Please, come in out of the cold, and make yourself comfortable, Princess. Thorny! We have company!”
>Calling out into the room behind her, she anxiously beckons the two of you inside, demeanour shifting rapidly from her earlier briskness to the model of polite, if nervous, hospitality. 

>The following minutes are a whirlwind of customer service.
>Thorny, who you learn is the husband of the elderly mare at the door and co-proprietor of the Shady Thistles, is directed to take your luggage to the “Fancy Room.”
>Meanwhile the mare – who you’re introduced to as Spiny Thistle – directs you to a nook in a corner of the cottage’s main sitting room, where she hurriedly moves a large sofa for Luna beside an antique and very comfortable-looking armchair for your use, both in front of an invitingly crackling fire. 
>While she works, she offers Luna a continuous stream of services and victuals – from every variety of tea, alcohol and beverage that can be found in Equestria to every meal the inn has served going back generations.
>Before too long, and after dismissing multiple offers of assistance from both you and Luna, the two of you are seated comfortably wrapped in woolly woven blankets, a hearty dinner ordered from their modest kitchen, and a serving of tea and biscuits before you.
>After placing the latter items on the nook’s well-weathered oaken table, a flustered Spiny Thistle speaks up again.
>”You two make yourself as comfortable as you wish, and if you need anything at all please don’t hesitate to ask. Thorny’s just setting up your room now, and we’ll show you to your accommodations after dinner if that’s to your liking. In the meantime, please feel free to make yourself at home while I get your food going.”
>”Of course, Madame Thistle, we will. Please take your time, Mr. Anonymous and I are in no rush and you’ve made us feel perfectly comfortable.”
>Luna speaks graciously, eliciting a low bow and beaming smile from the elderly mare before she trots off. 
>Finally, you and Luna are left alone together once again. 

>Luna takes a deep, calming breath over the whorls of steam rising from her tea before speaking again.
>”What a lovely couple. It seems you chose accommodations well, Anon.”
>You shrug nonchalantly, cradling your tea as well. 
“They came well recommended.”
>Tea Leaves had suggested the inn to you over discussions of your planned itinerary with her and Ink Blot
>A cousin of hers had stayed there once on a trip to Manehattan, and had spoken well of the Thistles. 
>Despite their thorny appellations, Mr and Mrs Thistle were reportedly as dedicated and hospitable innkeepers as any in Equestria. 
>While Luna had settled matters of state following here abdication, you had set the archives in order with Ink Blot and a small crew of other dedicated clerics and scribes. 
>While that process had progressed, you’d been given the liberty of planning a retirement vacation for Luna. 
>She wanted to see Equestria under the light of the moon, touring the rolling countryside of her domain between the mountains and the eastern sea. 
>The destination of the sea had been your idea, which Luna had taken to warmly. 
>You wanted Luna to be able to relax and enjoy her retirement as much as she possibly could, and she seemed excited at the prospect of a comfortable gallivant following your lead. 
>As you planned the journey, the prospect of its end pulled at your mind. 
>You had remembered your dream of a stony shore and scarce-remembered lullaby, of the rising sun on a vast sea. 
>You refused to give up on Luna, no matter how at peace she seemed to be with her own end. 
>If a faint nudging of a dream was all you had to pin your hopes on, that would have to be enough. 
>And so you had planned a comfortable journey with Luna, towards whatever end you would find together. 
>It was a sobering thought, though it was hard to worry too much about it with the beautiful mare at your side.

>Before too long, the food you had jointly ordered was laid out before you. 
>It looked, smelled, and tasted absolutely delicious. 
>Croquettes and dumplings made of sugar-sweet squashes and potatoes
>A hearty soup of fragrant cheese and onion
>A fragrant salad of delicate leaves and garden vegetables drizzled with an intoxicatingly tangy vinaigrette and crystal-clear olive oil
>Steamy sourdough buns, served fresh from the Thistle’s oven. 
>Dark, heady wine, served from their reserve cellar. 
>Over the course of your residence in Canterlot, the vegetarian diet of Equestria’s inhabitants had grown on you.
>When you could get it, fine cuisine was prepared by the ponies with such passion and care, with such an astounding array of flavour that you barely missed meat any more. 
>For you, it took a titanic effort not to immediately wolf down all the food as it was presented.
>Instead, you pick at it casually, eager both to make the sensation of flavour, and your time with the special somepony you were sharing it with, last. 
>Mid-bite into a crispy, golden-brown croquette, you glance over at Luna to appraise her enjoyment of the meal. 
>She’s nibbling daintily on some leaves of salad, fork held aloft in her horn’s magical aura, eyes closed serenely as she absorbs the cornucopia of flavour. 
>Happy and carefree, she appears lost in the moment, the present joy of shared company, food, and setting happily carrying her along with you as the time passes without notice. 
>She swallows a bite with a small sound of satisfaction and opens her eyes, catching you watching her as her eyes meet yours. 
>She smiles warmly and leans in towards you over the table, holding your gaze in her own with a keen and affectionate smile. 
>You lean in to meet her, lips meeting the tip of her nose in a small, playful kiss. 
>She giggles at the gesture and leans back, setting her fork down to pick up her glass in its place. 

>”You certainly outdid yourself with this, Anonymous. To think this wonderful little place has been nestled in the mountains just a short flight from Canterlot, and I’d never thought to visit.”
“You’ll have to thank Tea Leaves when we return to Canterlot, it was her suggestion. I’ve certainly never explored Equestria this far away from the city.”
>Luna’s smile lowers sadly – minutely, barely enough to notice, but still – and she raises her glass towards you. 
>”A toast, then, to Tea Leaves.”
>You pick up yours in turn, letting the wine’s sweet fragrance drift by your senses. 
“To Tea Leaves, and all those still at home.”
>You and Luna take a quaff of the wine, delighting in its richness and flavour, and return to your dinner with appreciative, but unhurried, gusto. 
>You make some small talk, discussing the stops ahead of you on your way to the sea, Luna excitedly planning activities and small excursions on the path ahead. 
>You give credit to your help where its due, relaying the recommendations of Ink Blot, Tea Leaves and others where you had gotten them. 
>Luna seems delighted in the prospect of the road, her newly-found joie de vivre seeming to counteract the weight of age newly settled on her now-mortal frame. 
>Silver-maned but vibrant, cloudy-eyed and subtly wrinkled but full of life, the beloved pony princess before you still holds you rapt as her voice flows smoothly through you. 
>Just as you finish the final bites of dinner together, the plates are whisked away by the Thistles. 
>Replacing them, they serve dessert – an enchantingly smooth and sweet ice cream, sprinkled with nuts and dusted with powdered sugar, fine as snow. 
>Served alongside it is their ‘signature’ dessert drink, as they claim. 
>A warm, steamy mug of peppermint hot chocolate is served before each of you, flavoured with a melange of spices, coffee and the welcoming burn of a mysterious, warming liquor. 
>You and Luna share another toast before the proprietors, this time to their kindness and hospitality, before taking some careful sips. 
>It’s delicious, its warmth and flavour seeming to surge from your stomach to your fingertips in a rush. 
>Luna’s eyes widen and brighten at her sip in turn, and she offers a heartfelt and appreciative thanks to the Thistles before they leave you to your final dish. 

>Each of your ice creams is gone in short order.
>As filling as the food served prior was, you found you always had room for a sugary capstone to a good meal.
>You’re glad Luna, judging by her speed in dealing with her own dessert, is of a similar disposition. 
>That leaves each of you, happily full and by now fully and completely relaxed, reclining in your chairs and sipping at your hot chocolates. 
>Catching Luna’s gaze once again as she takes a cautious draught of the still-steaming cup, you gesture to a large glass-panelled door behind her shoulder. 
“Want to finish these under the stars? It’s a beautiful night.”
>She giggles and blushes a little at the compliment.
>”Oh, you’re such a flatterer.”
>She carefully picks herself up off her seat, stretching the stiffness out of her limbs and wings with each movement. 
>You rise quickly, moving to her side to offer a hand in her assistance, which she leans into gratefully as she finishes her descent. 
>”And such a gentleman too. Why, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to flirt with me Anonymous.”
“Is it working?”
>She casts you a mischievous smile and gently hits you with her withers as she passes you, gathering up her mug in her aura.
>”I haven’t decided yet, but we should finish this conversation outside.”

>Your cup is significantly cooler when you pick it up again.
>You’re reclining on a bench on the Shady Thistle’s rear-facing balcony, which overlooks a small, verdant defile running into the mountains behind the property. 
>The silver moonlight dances and plays among the leafy bushes beyond, a babbling stream running down the mountain and lending a gentle undercurrent to the sigh of the wind passing through the trees.  
>The bench is generously cushioned, large overstuffed pillows protecting you from the sturdy oaken planks. 
>You’re grateful for them, as you’re certain that your entire body would have gone numb long ago if it weren’t for their generous padding.
>You shift slightly, and Luna’s weight shifts to accomodate the movement. 
>She’s draped over you, body cast over yours, legs intertwined and muzzle buried happily in the crook of your neck. 
>You play with her mane absentmindedly as you take a sip of your drink, listening to the way Luna’s contented, steady breathing intermingles with the valley’s cool breeze. 
>The drink flows past your lips and over your tongue slowly, carefully, as you try to take a drink without moving too much and disturbing the Princess. 
>Your lips still tingled, only partially from the effects of the alcohol. 
>You hoped the Thistles had the good sense and propriety not to disturb your time with Luna, but your sense of self-consciousness about the relatively public nature of your situation still distracts you a little.
>Luna shifts a little on top of you, the movement of her muscles against you pulling you back into the moment. 
>Her neck arches back smoothly, withdrawing her head from its nook to face you sleepily. 
>”Have you not finished your drink yet?”
>You take another sip, fixing her with a look of mock accusation. 
“Someone distracted me before I could.”
>”Oh no, that’s a shame. You’ll have to ask for a fresh, hot one before the night’s over.”
>With each word her speech softens into a whisper, eyes lidding and face drawing closer to yours. 
>Forgetting your drink, you reach with your free hand to pull her closer to you.
>Your lips meet again, and only part after what seems simultaneously an eternity and not nearly long enough.