How Moonstruck Got Her Groove Back

Finite Sledgehammer

Disclaimer: Hasbro's toybox, I'm just playing in it.

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Chapter 1

"This is strange news indeed." Princess Celestia flicked an ear towards her sister, then reluctantly turned from the antics in the courtyard below to regard Princess Luna. "Distressing news, as well."

Luna pressed her lips into a thin line and nodded slightly, her eyes flicking across the scroll she was reading, which she was holding up with telekenisis. Celestia had read the scroll a number of times herself, wearing a similarly concerned expression.

"I have forgotten how eventful it was a thousand years ago." Luna murmured. She sighed, closed her eyes for a moment, then jerked her head up as she used her magic to roll the scroll up and set it on the table next to her.

"I will go. I am more familiar with Roanamia than you."

Celestia shook her head. "Too familiar, I'm afraid. I doubt your magic will work there, and if it does, it may lead to the darker pathways."

Luna frowned, and furrowed her brow. "You cannot go, your magic may well trigger another cataclysm. Or worse."

Celestia nodded grimly. "Princess Cadance is strong enough, and young enough to not be recognized, but her magic isn't well suited for this. She also works best with Shining Armor. Unless things have changed, no earth, pegasus or unicorn ponies can breach the Broken Mountains."

Her gaze drifted out the window again, to where Twilight Sparkle and her friends were holding an especially fancy tea party in a lower courtyard. It was Rarities birthday, she recalled vaguely. The unicorn had been absolutely tickled pink to be treated to a tea party at the palace. Celestia would be down there now, if not for the sheriffs department from a small town north east of Griffonstone's strange and unsettling discovery. The territory the little town occupied had once been part of Roanamia, but despite its distance, had been under the jurisdiction of Equestria for a millennium.

"Sister, you're not thinking of sending -" Luna started, following her gaze.

"Goodness no!" Celestia gasped, snapping her eyes back up to Luna. "She is nowhere near ready for such a task! And if worst comes to worst she – all of them – will be most needed here. Besides, Twilight has the same problem as Cadance: she works best with her friends, and they cannot go."

Celestia didn't want to say it out loud, but she had an inkling that while Twilight Sparkle was powerful enough for this quest, she was… well… too innocent for it. She and her friends had faced many foes, but none of them were as cunning, vile, nor ruthless as whom had been festering in lost Roanamia all of these years. A bright, pure hearted young alicorn with a strong sense of justice and fairness would not last long. It certainly hadn't made a difference before. Quite possibly it made things exponentially worse. Cadance was in the same boat, now that she thought about it. Both their powers were based on love and friendship. They would need someone clever, cunning and perhaps even jaded to pull this off. Someone who could make exceptionally difficult decisions and live with the consequences. Someone who also happened to be an alicorn too young for the various spells and curses enshrining the Broken Mountains to recognize, and who wasn't needed elsewhere.

Judging by Lunas expression, she was likely thinking the same thing Celestia was. They stared sourly at one another for a few long moments. The problem with alicorns was that there were very few of them. Perhaps two dozen in all. Most were heads of state, and likely otherwise engaged with their magical duties, in addition to ruling and protecting their respective domains – which were scattered across the world. Although she and Luna could not go near the Broken Mountains for fear of causing another magical catastrophe, those of the old guard generally steered clear of it as a precaution. Too, many of them had retreated to lives of meditation and seclusion, largely withdrawn from the world. Most had traditionally been reluctant to get involved with things outside their domains, anyhow.

"There's Prince Windstone." Luna said abruptly. "His mother still wears the crown, so his domain can be without him for a while."

Celestia wrinkled her snout. "He's a bit callous and headstrong. This is an extremely delicate operation that will require the utmost stealth, and if necessary, astounding diplomacy."

"Mmm." Luna grunted. "He is something of a brat, still."

"Princess Mayweather?"

"Studying with the griffons." Celestia shook her head. "And she will be inheriting the crown almost as soon as she gets back, I feel."

Luna frowned. "Princess Sunwish?"

"Just gave birth."

"Princess Gleneden?"

"Queen Gleneden. Just took over for her ailing father, and her mother withdrew from public life a few years ago."

There was a long pause. Laughter echoed up the walls of the castle as a warm breeze shifted the gossamer curtains.

"Princess Starshine?"

Celestia opened her mouth, then shut it again, tilting her head to the side.

"Trot has two princesses, and Queen Astromida still holds the throne."

"I will compose a letter at once." Luna nodded stiffly, then turned to leave. She paused half way to the door. "You said they have two princesses? Both alicorns? I can't recall a second foal."

"Yes, Princess Starshine, and Princess Moonstruck. I believe they have a son, as well, but he didn't inherit the wings." Celestia mused.

"Colts rarely do." Luna remarked. Indeed, there was only one male alicorn at the moment, and there hadn't been one for some time before he was born.

Celestia nodded, then continued. "Starshine is the oldest. She's of noble bearing and very level headed. She's in line to rule, so I've spoken with her a few times during official negotiations."

Celestia furrowed her brow and gazed out the window again, down at the ponies playing in the courtyard.

"Now that I'm thinking of her, I don't believe I've heard much of Moonstruck since she was a foal. I have met her, but she was very young. She's a dragonslayer, I believe."

"A dragonslayer?" Lunas eyebrows traveled up towards her mane. "In her family line?"

"Yes. Strange, I know. It was rather clever, actually. What she did." Celesta shook herself then focused on her sister. "Well, get the letter drafted. I'll start preparing the mission outline."

---

Every day at about the same time, Princess Celestia brought he sun into the sky. On this particular day, some hours later in the tiny country of Trot, Princess Moonstruck accidentally woke herself up by falling out of bed. She blinked her large, reddish eyes a few times, keenly aware that she was balanced precariously on the side of her face; the rest of her body proppped against the plush mattress but otherwise in the air. It was a rather undignified position for a pony – much less a princess – not to mention uncomfortable. She didn't care much about dignity, but she did care to be comfortable, so she carefully sorted herself out.

Once she was seated properly on the floor, she shook her head to clear it, then squinted at the clock on the far wall. She hadn't slept as long as she wanted, but her unfortunate tumble out of bed had ensured that she wouldn't be going back to sleep any time soon.

Letting out a weary sigh, she got to her hooves and ambled groggily out of her room. Hot breakfast was long past, but she knew there was always cold cereal and/or fruit down in the kitchens. She rounded a corner to be bathed in warm sunlight. All of their living chambers were arranged around a private garden her mother tended, and it was in full glory this fine spring day. Later, when she was more awake, she would appreciate it, but now it was just an irritatingly bright light and too many loudly singing birds.

"You're up earlier than usual."

"Fell outta bed." Moonstruck grumbled. She paused as she realized that was not her mothers voice coming from the garden, although it would have been more shocking if it was. She turned her head and squinted into the glare. There was indeed someone sitting in the center of the garden under an ornamental maple tree – usually her mothers favorite spot. It was not a tall, elegant silver and gold alicorn mare wearing a pair of bifocals and squinting at a book or scroll. It was a skinny, gawky golden unicorn colt with a two toned green mane and tail. He had his back to her, was looking at the spot in the grass that their mother used to occupy on mornings like this.

"She's not coming back, is she?" He asked without turning around, his voice cracking slightly.

Moonstruck frowned, then stepped off of the marble flooring and onto the plush grass path that wound its way through the flowerbeds.

"I dunno, she might eventually."

"Eventually?" He snorted, turning to scowl at her as she sat down next to him. "It's been over three months!"

She shrugged. "That's not a very long time in the grand scheme of things, Acorn. Especially when you remember how old Mom is."

Acorns scowl darkened as he nodded grimly. Then he grimaced and ducked his head. "You don't think that she… well she is old – I mean, you wouldn't know how old she actually is and… did – do you think she leave to… to die?"

Moonstruck shook her head. "No. If Mom was dying, she would have said something. This is…" she scowled, "this is retirement, I guess. Maybe a long vacation."

"I still don't understand!" Acorn stood up and began pacing back and forth. "If she needed a vacation, why didn't she just say it? If she wanted to retire, why didn't not just retire!? Why'd she have to just disappear out of the blue!?"

"I dunno." Moonstruck sighed. "You know how she always kept things to herself, and we all know she hasn't been the same since Dad died. Even she couldn't hide that from us."

"It's like we don't even matter to her." Acorn groaned.

Moonstruck couldn't bring herself to agree with him out loud, her mind drifting back to the last time she's spoken with their mother. She pushed the memory aside and decided that changing the topic was probably a good idea.

"You're doing a great job on the garden, by the way."

"I promised myself that I'd keep it the way she always did. So that it'll be like nothing changed when she comes back. If she comes back." Acorn said softly. His cutie mark was a mighty oak tree growing out of a small acorn. He was already well on his way to being a master gardener.

Moonstruck nodded, then stood up, no longer able to stomach sitting in her mothers garden.

"I'm gonna go rustle up some breakfast."

"I left some pancakes for you in the fridge." Acorn grunted.

"Thanks." Moonstruck nodded once, then trotted away, leaving him to fuss over the flowers. At least by tending the garden he had something to do. Unfortunately, one of the other things he did to keep himself busy was remind her that their mother, Queen Astromida, had gone missing just after the last snow storm, and had named their oldest sibling as her successor via a letter left on her desk.

No one was really surprised that Starshine inherited the throne – she'd been more or less preparing for it for many years, and she really was the best suited for it. It was that the queen had said she was going for a fly with the implication that she would be back before dinner, and hadn't been seen since. The only way they knew that nothing terrible had happened was that the aforementioned letter naming Starshine as the new queen was written in an ink unique to Astromida that could not be used under enchantment or duress. She had to have been quite calm when she'd written the letter. Although Moonstruck didn't dare mention it to her siblings, she suspected that their mother had written it quite a while ago, and was just waiting for the right time to go.

Why now – or rather, the middle of winter – was the right time Moonstruck couldn't even guess. She was also more than a little annoyed that mother hadn't left any sort of instruction for she and Acorn. Granted, Acorn didn't really need much guidance; he'd had his hooves in the dirt since he was old enough to help in the garden. She, on the other hoof, could have used a few clues. Her abilities were fairly specific, which unfortunately meant she didn't have much use around the queendom until or unless a particular problem arose. That problem hadn't arisen in some time; news traveled quickly among dragons, it seemed. They hadn't been sighted over Trot for several years.

She shuffled into the kitchen, nodded sheepishly to the staff bustling around within, and opened the refrigerator door with magic. Sure enough, a short stack was sitting off to the side with her name on it. She stared at it for a few moments, was just about to magic it out of the fridge, then decided she didn't want to spend much time in the castle today. She shut the door, snagged a couple of bananas out of a bowl in the center of the main counter, and trotted out the back door.

"I'll be over at Heather Patch's, if you need me."

---

Time moved in unexpected directions in the Broken Mountains. Sometimes it ran in circles for a while, quite enamored with its own tail. While two weeks had passed in the outside world where the events of the next few days had already been reacted to, for one pony lying unconscious on a lonely mountainside, things had only just begun.

The creature that had been near by when the pegasus pony had made her rough landing stepped out of the mist and sniffed curiously in her direction. Most would agree it was a dragon of some sort, though it didn't much resemble the usual wyrms seen flying around from time to time. It walked on two muscular legs; had clawed hands instead of front paws; balanced lightly on an outflung tail, and had a pair of large, feathered wings. It was not much taller than the injured pony lying at its feet.

"That was rough." The dragon murmured. He didn't usually get involved with pony affairs, but an escape like the one he'd just witnessed was quite the feat. It felt wrong to leave the poor pegasus to die after she'd tried so hard to survive. Besides, he'd never seen a pony come over the north side of the mountains. Usually getting lost up there was a death sentence for them.

There was a pony village about a days flight from here. The hunting up here had not been good lately, and he intended to head down to lower altitudes. The pegasus was small, and underfed. Likely light enough to fly with. Since he was heading down anyway, he may as well make a side trip. The dragon gingerly lifted the pegasus onto his shoulders, then started off down the slope.

---

They never searched for survivors. Either ponies met up with the clan later, or they didn't. The clan would not risk time, resources and possible capture to confirm if those who didn't come home were taken or killed.

It was a harsh but effective rule. It kept the clan hidden. It kept the clan safe. She respected the rule. But this time, she could not follow it. Not after loosing her only surviving daughter to illness over the winter. Not when she herself was no longer of real use to the clan, and canny enough to slip unnoticed up the maze of canyons below the impossible peaks to where the ships had surprised her granddaughters hunting party.

They had been six strong. Four were captured, one limped in two days ago, but her granddaughter was missing. The sole survivor had seen her granddaughter narrowly escape a catcher, and dive recklessly into the canyon below the mountain with the broken top. He had no idea if she was captured or killed.

But the old pegasus gliding silently along the canyon rim could not turn away. Could not accept that her granddaughter was gone. Not without some kind of closure. So she slipped out after dark to search.

For three nights now she'd surveyed the canyon, following its twists and turns, plumbing its depths, daring to venture higher up the dried riverbed to seek the more unstable areas where magic ran wild, and everything was confusing. There was a chance – a slim chance, that her granddaughter had escaped up there; into the impossible parts of the mountain range where the catchers would be hard pressed to follow. There was an even slimmer chance that she would make it to the other side of the mountains and escape this horrible place forever.

The old mare was not sure which she preferred.

After many hours of searching, she glided in to a landing on a knob of moonlit sandstone. Although her face was heavily lined, her mane and tail were gray, and her coat was dull, her age did not extend to her movements. Every adjustment of her wings was crisp, and fluid, and her landing was light as a feather.

She stared up the canyon, towards the mountain that stood dark against the faint stars. Nothing moved, even the wind had died down, leaving the chilly spring night silent, and still.

It pained her to admit it, but she was the only living thing for miles.