Mac stepped from the steaming hot shower with a soft, wry snort. Well, messing around in a dream was all well and good but cleaning up the mess in the morning was something he could do without! He hadn’t had something like that happen to him since he was a colt. Was just as well he’d managed to get up before the rest of the family and slip his bedding into the wash pile. Meant he didn't have to answer any awkward questions about what he’d been up to. He smiled at the memory, still fresh in his mind. Never had the phrase “and it was only a dream” been so bittersweet. He’d never expected one of the Princesses to be so...forward.

Celestia had always seemed so standoffish in comparison, but he supposed that fit with the conversation he’d had with Luna during their first date. Luna really was as mercurial as the moon she rose every night. Toweling his mane dry, he paused to swipe the fabric across the mirror to clear the condensation. He turned, checking his flanks in the mirror; the bruises had all but faded thanks to the speed healing, just a little lingering ache now that was rapidly banished once he got up and moving around.

Speaking of moving, he realised, he had a delivery today. A cartload of apples to a small mining camp a few miles South of Ponyville. Shouldn’t take too long, an easy enough road, not like that one through the fire swamp… Shoot, he was happy to let AJ deal with that one even if he did sometimes worry about her, much as he knew she was more than capable of looking after herself.

Fire jets, roaming monsters, he’d almost expected to run into some ROUS’ the first time he’d done that run. Eeeenope, he didn’t much fancy that one at all. Still, they paid well for the produce so there was no way the Apple family could turn their back on that kind of payday, not with things being so tight, regardless of the potential risk.

He paused a moment, staring at his reflection in the mirror. Same square jaw, same straw-coloured mane, same freckles. For the life of him, he still wasn’t sure what Luna saw in him. At the thought of his lover, the reflection in the mirror smiled shyly back at him.

He’d all but given up thought and hope of being with a mare again, had resigned himself to being alone. Part of him had rather been looking forward to growing into one of those curmudgeonly old stallions, sitting on a rocking chair and waving his cane at the foals, bellowing at them to get off his property. Now what did his future hold? Balls and galas? Guards and servants? Royal decrees and media scru…

Mac’s eyes widened. The dream. Luna’s warning. Oh buck. He quickly finished drying himself off and hurried to Applejack’s bedroom, tapping a hoof lightly on the door. “AJ? Y’awake?”

The door opened a moment later and his sister peered up at him from beneath the brim of her hat. “Damn, Mac. Y’all are bright and eager today. Ain’t gotta hit the road for another hour or two yet. There a problem?”

Mac shifted his weight left and right, hesitating before he replied. The fact he had to think about it, however, was all Applejack needed. She sighed softly, rubbing at her face with a hoof.

“Somethin’s up?”

Mac silently nodded.

“Somethin’ big?”

Mac nodded again.

“Somethin’ to do with Princess Luna?”

Mac nodded once more a little more vigorously this time.

“Should ah tell the girls?”

He was about to shake his head, then paused for a moment to really think about it. Like it or not, the girls did have a point when they’d last been over. This didn’t affect just him, not anymore, and they each had skills they could bring to this that could prove useful.

Rarity was no doubt used to dealing with media attention so she could offer some useful advice on how to handle the inevitable questions and rumours. Rainbow Dash could certainly serve as a useful distraction, as could Pinkie Pie if it came to it. Hard to ask questions or take photos when your ears were ringing from a Rainboom or you were covered in cake batter and streamers. Fluttershy would likely be too petrified to be of much use in fending off a horde of reporters but he didn’t want to leave her feeling left out. Those animal friends of hers might be able to run interference and, well, there was that stare of hers if it came down to a last resort. Twilight was probably the most immediately useful in this kind of situation. Maybe she could lay down some of that Princessy authority to stall them or tell them to back off if need be.

He didn’t say all this out loud, of course, that wasn’t his way. He simply nodded. Then, on second thought, added his customary “Eeeyup.”

“We need’em here soon?”

“Prob’ly,” Mac sighed. “Luna visited me in mah dream last night. Told me that we’ve been outed in front a’the court yesterday. We can expect reporters and photographers sniffin’ around Ponyville anytime now.”

Applejack gritted her teeth, her ears pinned back. “Do ah even need t’guess who’s responsible for that? That bat-winged pain in the plot! If ah see him again ah’m gonna buck him inta next week!”

Mac coughed and glanced off to one side, scuffing the tip of a hoof against the floorboards. Applejack stared at him, her eyes slowly widening. “Ya can’t be serious. He’s actually comin’ here?”

“We did make the offer for him t’work the farm instead o’goin’ to jail,” Mac pointed out. “Luna’s assigned him as mah bodyguard and adviser, said he’s t’help out around the farm any way he can until we feel he’s cleaned his slate with the both of us.”

“Any way he can, huh?” Applejack’s frown was replaced with the evillest grin Mac had ever seen on his sister’s face. “Well now. Ah think ah’d best go start workin’ on mah list o’chores. Better make sure it’s up to date.” She winked at her brother, than paused. “Mebbe it’s best ya hit the road early, Mac. If reporters are gonna be here, best you ain’t.”

“Ah can’t hide from them forever, AJ. We knew this was gonna happen.”

“We ain’t hidin’, Mac, we’re buyin’ time. If we let them pounce on ya here, or in town, they’re gonna be the ones askin’ the questions, they’re the ones that’ll be on the attack. If we get ya out’a town for a bit, ah can speak to the girls, we can go to Mayor Mare and set up, I dunno, some kinda press conference or somethin’ where we can make sure things don’t get too outta control.”

Mac blinked, his head tilting to one side. “That...is a really good idea, AJ. When’d you get so savvy about this stuff?”

Applejack grinned bashfully. “Hangin’ around Rarity, ah guess. She’s always gossipin’ on about things in Canterlot, talkin’ about how she handles her shows and the celebrities she deals with. Don’t you dare tell her ah was actually listenin’ to all her rabbitin’ on, now! She’d never let me hear the end of it.”

“Mah lips are sealed,” he assured her. “Alright. Lemme grab some breakfast and ah’ll go make the delivery. Ah’ll head t’wards the Everfree then loop down rather than goin’ through town. Less chance anypony’ll spot…” He trailed off as Applebloom trotted up the stairs, a concerned look on her face. “Bloom?” Mac asked. “You okay?”

“Uh-huh.” Bloom shrugged. “Ah just...ah went outside t’get some water an’there’s a pony sitting on the porch. He’s got funny wings, like no pegasus ah ever saw. He...kinda looks like that pony that hurt ya, Big Mac. Ah asked him what he was doin’ and he said he was waitin’ for you.”

Mac glanced sidelong at AJ and snorted. “He got here quick. Guess ah’d better go talk to him.”

“He ain’t stayin’ in the house,” Applejack growled with a stamp of a hoof. “He can stay out in the barn. There’s plenty room in the hayloft for him.”

Mac frowned, but it wasn’t worth arguing with her about it, not yet. Mourne had to earn his place in this family, and earn her forgiveness. She always had been one to hold a grudge for a lot longer than he did. Nothing he could say right now would change that and really he couldn’t blame her. He simply nodded and nuzzled Applebloom in thanks.

“It’s okay, ‘Bloom,” he assured her. “Ah’ll take care of it."

He clomped downstairs, pausing a moment before pushing the front door open. He found the Night Guard, just as Applebloom had said, sitting on the porch, staring out towards the orchards. Much to his surprise Winona was sat next to him, panting happily while Mourne ran a hoof lightly between her ears and down her back, tail wagging cheerfully away.

“Winona likes ya. That’s a start,” Mac noted as he sat down a little way from the batpony, glancing at the saddlebags sitting on the steps. “We’ll be puttin’ ya up in the barn for now if ya wanna dump your gear. Hayloft’s plenty warm and roomy, no worries about the cold this time a’year. It’s...gonna be a while ‘fore AJ lets ya in the house for anythin’ other than meals, ah suspect.” Assuming she allowed even that, he thought to himself. Mourne’s first few days on the farm were likely to be quite uncomfortable if AJ had her way.

“Understandable,” was all Mourne said, turning his head a little to fix one eye on Mac. “I arrived last night and did a preliminary survey of the grounds. I’ve seen less secure places, but not many.”

Mac snorted. “Last night? Where’d ya sleep?”

“Who says I did? I am a Night Guard. Emphasis on night.”

“Well that ain’t gonna work here. We ain’t bats or batponies for that matter. Y’all are gonna have t’keep the same hours as the rest’a the family. That ain’t gonna be a problem, is it? Ain’t seen you folks around much during the day."

“Direct sunlight is unpleasant,” Mourne admitted. “But the brim on our helm helps shade our eyes. If it comes to it I have tinted lenses I can wear to protect my sight, though they limit my peripheral vision even further so I will only use these on the sunniest of days.”

Mac mmm’ed quietly. A silence fell that was not entirely comfortable before Mourne turned to pull something from his saddlebags, offering it out to Mac.

“My orders.”

Mac accepted the proffered scroll, breaking the seal and unrolling it to glance over the contents. Nothing much beyond what Luna had already told him in the dream, but this made it official. He nodded and set it down beside him, then took a slow, deep breath.

“So y’all are gonna be guarding my back.”

Mourne nodded.

“Really just got one question then. Can I trust you? Y’did try to throw me off a roof and slit me up a treat not so long ago. Ya gotta pardon me if this apparent change a’heart doesn’t leave me more than a mite sceptical.”

It was Mourne’s turn to sigh, the batpony turning to once again stare out over the orchards before he replied. “Your concerns are understandable, but unwarranted. I understand now that...I was wrong. Rather than vilifying you, I should have been defending you from the start. I was and have been a disgrace to the Night Guard.” He stood, then slowly bowed before Mac, his forelegs splayed, muzzle down till his nose pressed to the floor. “A simple apology isn’t going to make up for my actions. All I can do is assure you that I will defend you and yours, with my life if need be. I swear it on everything I hold dear. I will not fail again.”

“That’ll do for a start,” Applejack growled as she stepped out from inside the house, levelling an unfriendly stare at the grovelling batpony before she turned to Mac. “Breakfast’s ready. Come on in and get yerself fed before ya hit the road.” Her face twisted as if she’d just bitten into a lemon as she glanced back at Mourne. “Suppose you’d better come in as well. Apology buys you breakfast, but nothin’ more!”

She didn’t wait for a reply, turning quickly and stomping back into the house with an angry flick of her tail.

“Thank you,” Mourne called after her as he slowly straightened back up.

Applejack paused, looking back over her shoulder at him. “Ain’t gonna be much good as a bodyguard if ya keel over from hunger now, are ya? Now come in here and eat ‘fore ah change mah mind.” She stalked back into the house and Mourne huh’ed softly.

“Well,” Mac said simply. “That actually went a lot better than ah expected. She’s willin’ to give y’a chance, but it’s gonna take time. For now, I’d just shift if I were you,” Mac advised as he hauled himself up to all fours. “Just in case she changes her mind. We’ve got a fair ways to go today and we won’t be stopping till we make our delivery so you’d best eat quick and eat hearty.” Mac held the door open, motioning for the batpony to head inside. “We’ll have plenty more time t’talk on the road if there’s more you got to say.”

“More I perhaps should say. You are at least owed an explanation for my actions these past days.” Mourne rose smoothly, scooping his saddlebags up and draping them over his back once more. “And regarding your courtship of the Mistress, there are other things you should know about her, and about what the future likely holds. There are already movements within the nobility, eyes and ears paying far more attention to the goings-on in Ponyville than is normal.”

“Can’t say that surprises me,” Mac shrugged as he moved aside to let Mourne in, closing the door behind him. “News travels fast.”

“MAC! That batpony is in the house!” A shrill young voice yelled from the kitchen. Mac winced. Maybe he should have gone in first. “Get Applejack! Ah’ll hold’im here!”

“Dangit, Bloom. It’s fine. He’s not here tah cause any more trouble, in fact he’s actually gonna be helpin’ out around here. Ain’t that right, Mister Mourne?” Applejack poked her head around the doorframe to wave a hoof at Applebloom, the filly stood atop her chair, brandishing a serving spoon as if it was a sword. “And get down offa there ‘fore ya crack your skull or something.”

“Mourne is just fine, and no, I am not here to cause trouble. In fact, young Miss,” his attention shifted to Applebloom, “I am here to protect Mac.”

“Psh. Who’s gonna protect him from YOU?” Applebloom muttered as she clambered down as she was told to, setting the spoon back on the table as she retook her seat.

Mac should have told her off, but frankly he could understand why she was so angry, so he left it well alone and took his seat at the table as Applejack started to bring out the plates, each piled high with freshly made pancakes, still steaming hot. He licked his lips, then glanced at Mourne who had taken a seat at the table and was regarding his plate as if someone had just set down a bowl of live termites in front of him.

“Somethin’ the matter?” Applejack asked.

“What do you...DO with them?” Mourne asked, prodding tentatively at one with the tip of a hoof.

Mac and Applebloom exchanged looks across the table that were somewhere between amused and aghast. “You ain’t never had pancakes?” Applebloom ventured.

Mourne slowly shook his head as he again prodded at the stack. “Our choice of food was somewhat more limited when I was growing up. Goods baked with fine milled white flour were a luxury we grew accustomed to going without.” He finally leaned in to sniff at them before nibbling experimentally at the very edge of one of them, hissing as he nearly burnt his tongue.

“Ya put syrup on’em,” Applebloom explained as she scooped out some butter and planted it atop her own stack, watching it melt and vanish into the stack. “Ya can put apple butter, or syrup, or haybacon or chocolate sauce or all kindsa things. Pancakes go with almost anythin’!”

“Ah’ll take Granny’s breakfast up to her, Mac. Ah’ll let her know about our new farmhand an’all.” Applejack nodded towards Mourne.

“Sure thing, AJ. Tell her ah’ll be heading off with the delivery soon as ah eat. Ya know how much she frets about that kind of thing.” He turned back to watch Mourne drizzling maple syrup over his pancakes with a look of intense concentration normally reserved for artisans carrying out some particularly intricate task.

Applebloom, as usual, was shoveling hers down like there was no tomorrow, near inhaling everything on her plate and barely able to keep from licking it clean afterward. She set it down on the table with a thump and sat up a bit straighter. “All done!” she declared. “Can I go meet up with Sweetie and Scootaloo? We’ve got a whole new day of crusading planned!”

Mac nodded. “Just make sure ya don’t cause too much damage around town this...time?”

The last was spoken to the empty space that had once held a filly as Applebloom tore out of the kitchen without a backward glance, the door slamming shut behind her seconds later. He sighed, and turned his attention back to his own breakfast as Applejack came back down to join them.

“These are...amazing,” Mourne breathed as he dug into his pancakes, licking up the syrup that ended up smeared on his muzzle. “So soft and sweet. I’ve never tasted anything like them.”

Applejack frowned as she took her seat at the table and helped herself to the syrup. “But they serve stuff like this at the palace, don’t they?”

“Oh, to the guests and royal family, of course, but rarely to the Solar Guard and even more rarely to the Night Guard. The Mistress isn’t a great one for sweets so most of us choose not to indulge either, to follow her example.”

Applejack huh’ed. “Well don’t that beat all? Guess ah never much thought about it. For us, pancakes ain’t nothin’ special. Quick and easy t’make, good and filling. Bellyful of these? Sets you up right for the day.”

Mourne mm-hmmed around another mouthful, then paused, glancing at Applebloom’s empty chair. “What did she mean by that? Crusading?”

Mac and Applejack exchanged another wry look before AJ shrugged a little. “She and her friends are the last three fillies in their class ain’t got their cutie marks yet. So they formed this club, the Cutie Mark Crusaders, an’they spend most of their days runnin’ around tryin’ to figure out things to get cutie marks in. Carpentry, rock climbin’, chicken herdin’...”

“Librarians, acrobatics, tiger-taming, tightrope walking…” Mac added.

"Dancin’, actin’, singin’, hang-glindin’...” Applejack shook her head and laughed. “They got enough energy ‘tween the three of them it makes me damn tired just tryin’ tah keep up.”

Mourne hmmed as he finished his last mouthful of pancake, licking his lips one more time. “I can’t decide if a cutie mark is reassuring or restrictive. To have your entire life reduced down to a mark on your flank like that.”

“Wait…so bat ponies don’t get cutie marks?” Applejack blinked in surprise. “Ah guess ah never really looked all that close.”

Mourne shook his head. “No. We suspect it’s something to do with the way our race was created. For some reason the magic of harmony doesn’t affect us in the same way it does the other pony races.”

Applejack snorted. “Never thought of it that way. Ah guess batponies are kinda unnat--” she bit back the word and blushed as Mac shot her a look across the table. She cleared her throat abashedly. “Apologies. That just kinda slipped out. Ah didn’t mean nothin’ by it.”

Mourne simply stared at her for a moment, then shrugged and finished the last mouthful of his breakfast. “You get used to it. Even in Canterlot it’s still a commonly held belief that we’re freaks or aberrations of some sort. Nevermind that it took both Princesses to create the original batponies, ponies as a whole tend to just gloss over Celestia’s involvement. I suppose they can’t understand why the Princess of the Day would involve herself with something so intrinsically tied to the night.”

“So why did she?” Applejack asked.

Mourne blinked slowly. “Because Luna asked her,” he said simply, as if speaking to a foal. “At the time the Mistress was beginning her descent into the loneliness and jealousy that would eventually give rise to the Nightmare. She argued that Celestia’s Solar Guard were ill-suited to guarding her night, that she deserved Guards of her own.”

Mourne paused as he leaned over the table to pour himself a glass of orange juice from the jug in the center of the table, taking a mouthful before he continued his impromptu history lesson. “The first batponies were actually just pegasi with glamours placed on their armour, similar to the ones that allow the Solar Guard to look so uniform today, but Luna wanted more than just illusions. She didn’t want ponies pretending to love her night, she wanted ones who truly would, ponies who would be as much a part of it as she was. Celestia resisted at first, but eventually capitulated and together they worked one of the greatest feats of magic Equestria has ever seen. The creation of an entirely new tribe of ponies.”

He opened his mouth to say more, then frowned, tilting his head to one side, his long, tufted ears twitching. “Are we expecting further company this morning?”

“Not that ah know of. Might be one of the girls, ah suppose.” Applejack ventured, pushing her plate away and trotting over to look out the window. “Don’t see anypony out there.”

“More than one,” Mourne murmured, eyes half-closed as he concentrated on the distant sounds. “I hear multiple voices and what sounds like a wagon of some type. They should be visible on the path any moment now.”

Applejack frowned, pulling her hat up a little more as she pressed her face to the glass. “Ah still don’t...wait. There it is. There’s a group a’ponies headin’ to the farm. Now what in the hay is that thing they’re haulin’ on that wagon there?”

Mac and Mourne joined her at the window, looking over her shoulders at their unexpected guests. “Don’t rightly know,” Mac said at last. “Some sort a’telescope, maybe? Got a big lens or somethin’ out front, ah can see the light reflectin’ off the glass.”

“It’s a camera,” Mourne sighed, shaking his head. “Unlike other cameras that take only still images like you would see in newspapers, that is something very new indeed. Moving pictures. They project them onto a huge white screen and you can watch what it records. There’s only three of these cameras in existence, as I understand it, and only one screen in Canterlot where you can watch the picture shows.” He smiled thinly. “What you see there is the Canterlot press corps. Congratulations, farmer. You’re a celebrity.”