“So what is this place?” Mac asked, some unknowable length of time later. The two had barely moved since the lullaby had ended, the big red stallion still curled protectively around the midnight blue alicorn. Their necks were pressed close together, near breathing in unison.

“The fog? Unconstructed dreamscape. Your mind is drifting, at peace but while you are aware of the dream your subconscious cannot take control, hence we remain in this ethereal “between”. If it bothers you, you can form it into anything you desire. You’ve practiced lucid dreaming, haven’t you?”

“Kinda,” he replied, sounding unsure. “Usually it just involves guidin’ the dream once it’s already underway, y’know? Becomin’ aware that ah’m dreamin’ and just havin’ fun with it. Never really thought about tryin’ t’build it from scratch.”

Luna smiled up at the red stallion as Mac swivelled his head around, watching the formless grey ether swirl and pool around them as they lay together. She rolled over to lay out on her back alongside him, her head laid on his forelegs while he nuzzled along the length of her neck. With her legs splayed it was hardly the most dignified of positions, but it wasn’t like there was anyone here to see them. “What would you like it to be?” she asked simply.

“Ah dunno, really. Just feels sorta weird us cuddlin’ together in what’s little more’n’a fogbank, ya know? Keep havin’ to remind mahself it ain’t a cloud and we ain’t gonna fall through.”

“Then pick a place. A hilltop, a forest, a stream, a train carriage, a fancy hotel in Prance? The possibilities are limitless.”

“S’funny how hard it is t’decide on somethin’ when ya can pick anythin’ at all. Why don’t you pick? Say this was Canterlot, where’d we be right now?”

“You mean other than my bedroom?” Luna even added a teasing little wiggle of her haunches for emphasis.

Mac snorted and gently nipped at her exposed throat, flicking his tongue along the skin till he felt her shudder in delight, her eyes closing a moment. “That’s a dirty mind ya got there, Princess.”

“Luna,” she chided with a bop of her hoof to his nose. “And so I’ve been told. But ah, see? It seems your subconscious already knows where you’d like to...have me, so to speak.”

The dream shifted around them, vague impressions of objects swiftly solidifying till the two were resting on a checkered picnic blanket by a stream, in the shade of an old willow tree that creaked and swayed softly in the warm breeze. The air was rich with the smell of grass and blossom, the stream bubbling and gurgling merrily as it flowed over the rocks.

Luna rolled over onto her belly and scooted forward so she could hang her head over the bank and watch the clear waters flowing by. “Is this another place you plan to take me?”

“Eeeyup. Other side o’Ponyville from the farm. Quiet place near the lake, this stream feeds into it.”

“And this is where you do your fishing? It would seem a good place for it. There is nopony nearby who might be disquieted by your actions. The stream has plenty of fish?”

“Eeeyup,” he said simply as he moved up to sit with her, pressing his flank lightly to hers once more as they gazed down at the stream. He glanced briefly at her, watching the delighted smile growing on her face as his dream obliged her by adding in the aforementioned silvery fish. Luna giggled as she watched them darting back and forth just beneath the surface. “Got a question, if it ain’t bein’ rude,” Mac finally said.

“Of course, Mac. What would you like to know?”

He’d been mulling it over for a while now, ever since she’d shown up, in fact. He’d tried to think of polite ways to say it, diplomatic ways, but he wasn’t any good at that kind of thing so, instead, he kept it short and simple. “Why’re you here?”

“I’m not sure I understand?” She looked up from the fish, her head tilted to one side.

“Here, now, in this dream. Why are ya here, Luna? Why come t’cry on mah shoulder?”

“Isn’t that what couples do? We support and comfort one another in times of stress?”

“Well yeah, but…ah just mean… Ya got your sister there, right? Folks in your Night Guard. There musta been others ya coulda talked to about this but instead of any o’that, ya came ta see me. Now don’t get me wrong,” he hastily held up a hoof to forestall any comments. “It was right sweet of ya to trust me like this, t’let me see that side of ya…it’s more flatterin’ than ah have the words for. But we ain’t been together long, it kinda surprises me ya’d be so open.”

She nodded in agreement. “It is a fair question, Mac. There were two reasons, mainly. The first is tied to the very nature of this place. I’d like you to try and tell me a lie, Mac. Any kind of lie at all. Try…” She tapped a hoof to her chin as she thought it over. “Try and tell me that your coat is blue.”

Mac tilted his head to one side, an eyebrow lifting a little at the odd request. Luna just smiled encouragingly at him and he shrugged. “Mah coat’s red.”

He pursed his lips in surprise. He hadn’t meant to say that. He really hadn’t. “Mah coat’s b-red. Bbb...red.”

No matter how hard he tried, he simply could not force the words from his mouth. Every single time, just as he was about to utter the lie, the truth came out instead. “Now that’s just downright disturbin’,” he snorted.

Luna giggled and clapped her hooves together, watching him contort his face to try and stop the traitorous truth that would not be denied. Finally she took pity on him and silenced his attempts with a gentle kiss. “You cannot lie here,” she said simply as she stroked his cheek with one hoof. “A lie is a conscious act of will, and even with your ability to guide the dream, this is the realm of the subconscious and the filters that we erect in the waking world are that much flimsier.”

“But then how come ah ain’t just spewin’ out every little thought that crosses mah mind? An’what about nightmares? Ain’t they a lie of a sort? Your mind playin’ a trick?”

“An astute observation, but the truth is more complicated. For your first question, it is a combination of two things. The first is my presence. My gift allows the dreamer to perceive and thus consciously influence their dreams, overriding their subconscious. The second is your own talent for lucid dreaming. A lucid dreamer is one who can tame their subconscious desires whether that be to exploit them or repress them, so you are far more able to control your impulses and desires compared to some of our other little ponies. Now, as to the second question,” she paused a moment to gather her thoughts, reaching down to trail a hoof through the cool waters of the stream, watching the fish scatter away in all directions from the intrusion into their world. “A nightmare, as much as a dream, is your subconscious given voice. Sometimes dreams offer us insight into ourselves, just as nightmares often contain a truth we refuse to acknowledge, save when we can no longer hold it back. There is always a seed of truth in every dream or nightmare.”

“So that’s why ya’all are here? For the truth?”

She nodded. “In this place we can be sure that all we hear is truth, pure and unvarnished, nothing left out to spare our feelings. Not that I am implying thou would lie to us, Mac, but when you spend so much time dealing with falsehood and doublespeak the plain truth becomes something to be cherished. Here I am able to be myself, knowing that I need not fear that your reactions are false. Here, I can take off the regal mask both my Sister and I must wear, knowing that there are always eyes on us. Even our private chambers are not as private as we might wish. Here, when I came to you weeping, your first response was to comfort and protect me. You acted not out of any selfish desire but out of concern for me.”

He blushed a little at her words, shifting awkwardly in place. Dodging the compliment, he instead moved on to something else. “So, uh, what about you? Y’always gotta tell the truth here as well?”

Luna hesitated before replying, picking her words delicately. “As Princess of the Night, dreams fall under our dominion as well. We are capable of twisting the truth, obscuring the facts if we feel it is needed or necessary for the good of the dreamer. A barefaced lie would be a difficult task, but not entirely out of the realms of our power. We would only openly lie when there was no other option and only for the good of the dreamer. We would not abuse the trust our little ponies show us in allowing us into their dreams every night.”

Mac grinned suddenly. “Y’know, it’s cute when ya do that.”

Luna tilted her head to one side. “Do...what?”

“Ya backslide when you’re all riled up or tense about somethin’. Noticed it a few times now. Ya start callin’ yerself “we” and “our” an’all the thees and thous start showin’ up. Y’all better not be thinkin’ about taking up poker as a career.”

Luna hrmphed. “We do? Ponyfeathers! I do!”

Mac snorted loudly. “Swearin’ doesn’t suit ya, Princess.”

“Why has nopony pointed this out to us before?” Luna grumbled, folding her forelegs across her breast and sticking her bottom lip out in a melodramatic pout.

“Because you’re the Princess and nopony wanted t’be the one t’point it out, ah reckon. Anyway, who are they t’say whether it’s right or not?” Mac’s smile grew a little more teasing as he leaned in to lip playfully at that pout. “Personally ah think it’s kinda cute.”

“Cute? We are not cute!” Luna harumphed loudly, trying to hide the smile that was threatening to disrupt her pout. “A Princess is always perfectly regal, often beautiful, but never CUTE.”

“Ah beg t’differ, yer Highness,” Mac replied smugly, bopping her lightly on the nose with a single hoof. “Y’all are pretty damn cute, though a mite scary when y’all get riled up. Pardon the bluntness, but ah can’t really lie about that here either, can ah?”

Luna deflated a little at that, rubbing abashedly behind one ear. “We wish you had not seen that. The last thing we want is for thee or any of our ponies to be afraid of us. Such lapses of control are...regrettable. However, that brings me neatly back to the second reason I came here to see you. I grant you that our relationship is scarce a month old but…” she trailed off, prodding the blades of grass with a hoof. “You must know what it is like, no? There are some things you simply cannot share with your family, as much as you may love them, as much as you may trust them. Moments of weakness kept for you and you alone, hidden from the world.”

Mac nodded. “Ya didn’t feel y’could be this open with Princess Celestia?”

“One does not forget five years of open warfare followed by a thousand years of exile so quickly.” Luna smiled faintly. “Tia and I are still, to an extent, stepping on eggshells around one another, our rekindled relationship still a fragile thing. My sister and I love one another, we always will, even when we fight, but a thousand years ruling alone changes a pony. Celestia is used to being the one in control, the one who makes all the decisions. Where once we were sisters, now our relationship is more that of a mother and child rather than the equals we once were. She means well, but there are things that are difficult to share with her,” Luna trailed off and sighed. “I hope one day we will have the relationship we had before my fall.”

“But ya feel ya can share these things with me?”

“In short? Yes. You are a kind and thoughtful pony, Mac. You are brother to the Element of Honesty, a loving brother to Applebloom. I have seen your heart and judged it a good one. Here I have no need to hide myself. You make me feel...safe. Like I have not felt in many years.”

“Everypony needs a confidante,” he agreed. “Ya gotta have somepony else ya trust enough t’be open around them. Else the little things will eat ya up inside.”

“I made that mistake once when I cut myself off from Tia. I will not make it again. I will warn you, though, there may be other such meetings like this where your mane is left wet from my tears, other nights where you must sing me back to calm.”

He laughed and curved his neck over hers, drawing her head down to his chest as he held her close. “Shoot, and that’s a bad thing? Even if we weren’t datin’? Even if...even if this don’t go nowhere beyond just dating, y’always got somepony t’talk to, ah can promise ya that,” he cleared his throat. “I, ah, don’t mind the singin’ either. Did ya know ah sing in a quartet in Ponyville?”

“I did not. Tell me more about this. Does the quartet have a name?”

“The Ponytones. Me an’three other ponies. Right now there’s Rarity, ya know her, Element of Generosity an’all. The other two are Toe Tapper and Torch Song. Lineup changes from time t’time but me an’Rarity’ve been there since pretty much the beginnin’.”

Luna nuzzled in a little closer to him, letting her head rest on his forelegs. “Will you sing a little for me again, Mac? I assume this group does not sing lullabies?”

“Naw. S’more like a barbershop quartet, that kinda thing.” He cleared his throat as he decided what to sing. “Got one, kind’ve an old song this’un. Ain’t somethin’ the Ponytones would sing, but it’s always been a favourite o’mine.”

On the day ah was born,
Said mah pappa, said he
Ah've an elegant legacy waiting for ye.
‘Tis a rhyme for the lips
An’a song for the heart
Just sing it whenever yer world falls apart.

Look, look, look t’the rainbow
Follow it over the mountain and stream
Look, look, look t’the rainbow
Follow the pony who follows a dream.

'Twas a fine old gift
T’leave t’a foal
An’the lure o’that song kept mah hooves runnin’ wild
For ya’ll never grow old
And ya’ll never stand still
Wi’the sun always beckonin’ beyond the next hill.

Look, look, look t’the rainbow
Follow it over the mountain and stream
Look, look, look t’the rainbow
Follow the pony who follows a dream.

So ah followed mah heart
And ah roamed the land free
T’the east with the lark
T’the west with the sea
An’ah searched all the land
An’ah searched all the skies
But ah found it at last in mah own true love's eye

Luna smiled softly as he finished, shyly clearing his throat and staring at his hooves. “Ah ain’t really used t’singing for just one. Feels kinda different t’bein’ up on stage.”

She cupped his muzzle, urging it up so she could press a kiss to his lips, her tongue flicking against them before she drew back. “A fine voice you have, Mac, deep and rich. I could listen to it for hours.”

“Oh psh,” he mumbled, his cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red. “It ain’t nothin’ special. Ah bet y’heard plenty better than me in the past.”

“Mmm, yes and no. It is true I was once a great patron of the arts but I imagine that few of the composers and artists from my time are remembered now. I have heard singers who could spellbind armies, and those who would find ducks and gulls giving them indignant looks. Regardless, you do yourself a disservice in drawing comparisons to others, Mac. You have a fine singing voice that you should be proud of.”

“Hold up there,” he frowned. “Once a great patron? As in past tense? How come y’ain’t started up again now that you’re back?”

“It...seemed simpler to leave it with Celestia,” Luna replied, somewhat evasively. “She has had so many centuries as their patron, after all. Halls and theatres dedicated to her name. I cannot simply step back in and reclaim all that was once my domain.”

Mac snorted. “‘Cept that’s exactly what ya did with the Night Court, the raisin’ of the moon, the dreams of all the ponies…”

Luna hrmphed and drew back a little, lifting her head up and giving a flick of her star-filled mane. “You make it sound so simple.”

“Ain’t it?” was the simple reply. “Or is there somethin’ else holdin’ ya back?” He gave her a piercing look, his ears flicking. “No lies in a dream, remember? The truth, Luna. Just you an’me here to hear it.”

She took a deep breath, letting it out in a long, slow sigh. “We are, I am...afraid. We are so very out of touch with our little ponies in this time, our first date together showed that. Once we were the patron and muse of artists, composers, singers and writers the length and breadth of Equestria. Now? Now we feel out of step with the likes and loves of our ponies. Rock, dubstep, electro, folk, jazz and something called swing. Musical instruments without strings or keys, music that could shake the teeth from your skull. As for art? This so-called “modern” minimalist art that is so in vogue at the moment simply confounds us. As for writing, this recent trend to fantastical literature just puzzles us. Stories of humans and strange automata? Such things were never even conceived before our exile. We...we would scarce know where to begin.”

Mac tapped a hoof to his chin. “Sounds t’me like ya just planned out our next few dates right there, ya know. Ya feel outta touch, then let’s get ya back IN touch! Concerts, art shows, ah’m sure Twilight could recommend ya a bunch of books t’read. Can’t really help ya with the art, confuses the heck outta me, but ah bet somepony like Rarity could tell ya all about it.”

Luna lifted her head up, giving him a wide eyed look. “But…”

“Ah-ah. No buts. We’re outed, ain’t we? No sense in hidin’ our relationship? Buck it, then. Let’s have some fun, you an’me. Let’s see if we can’t both find some new things we like.”

“You would do this...for me?”

“O’course,” he replied, as if it was as obvious as the sun coming up in the morning. “If this helps you, it’s something ah wanna do.” His hoof found hers, curling around it and squeezing a little tighter. “If it makes ya happy, then it makes me happy. That’s what carin’ about other folks is all about, right? Y’deserve some happiness, Luna.”

She laughed softly, more than a little bitterness in her voice. “There are those who would disagree.”

Mac’s expression darkened. “...Somepony said somethin’ to ya? Is that why ya came here?”

At her silent nod Mac sighed and shook his head. “Some ponies just can’t let a thing go. Far as they’re concerned, who ya were in the past is who ya’ll always be. They can’t see past it. You ain’t Nightmare Moon no more. Everypony in Ponyville knows that an’sooner or later those thick heads in Canterlot will see it too.”

“Perhaps. Time will tell,” Luna agreed.

Mac moved again, this time sliding his body up and over, covering the alicorn as he held her close. He wriggled playfully, feeling those soft wings stroking against his belly while he dipped his head down to nose and nibble along the back of her neck. “Well, ya came here for cheerin’ up, and this has turned a mite gloomy for mah likin’,” he observed. “So let’s turn it t’something more cheerful. Where’d ya like to go for our next date? Ah think it’s your turn t’pick, ain’t it? We had the first date, then we had our, erm, date in the hospital, so by mah reckonin’ that makes it your turn, even if mine was a bit on the weak side.”

“Well then,” she supported the heavy weight of the stallion without complaint, her tail playfully flicking up to stroke between his haunches, a teasing smile curving her lips as he shivered and bit down a little harder on the back of her neck. “I would like, if you are willing, for you to come to Canterlot for the next date. As you say, we have been outed by the press, there is no longer any reason to be subtle about our attachment to one another. There is a pony by the name of Sapphire Shores performing this weekend. Would you do me the honour of accompanying me as my date?”

Mac chuckled softly. “There’s bein’ subtle and there’s stickin’ your head in the cragadile’s mouth and darin’ him to bite down. Ah ain’t really the Canterlot type, Luna. That’s always been more of a Rarity thing, y’know? But…” He lipped at her ears, claiming the tip of one for a soft, teasing suckle that had the alicorn quivering beneath him by the time he let go. “If that’s what ya truly want, then it’d be mah honour. Is this the kinda thing that ya do when you’re not Princessing?”

“Princessing,” Luna replied with a perfectly straight face, “takes up a lot of our time. But no, going to concerts is not something we do very often. Sometimes it is nice to use the royal booth for the opera, but “clubbing” is not something I had ever tried till recently. We receive many offers to concerts and recitals but those are usually from the nobles attempting to curry favour for one thing or another so we decline them rather than be accused of showing favour. No, when we have time to ourselves we, I…” she trailed off, clearing her throat. “I dabble in art. Sculpture, actually. I tried my hoof at painting, once a long time ago, but I really haven’t the eye for it.”

“Really? What about that night sky of yours? Ain’t that just like one huge canvas?”

“I suppose in a way it is, but I find that in these modern days ponies are less pleased when I make changes to the positions of constellations. Apparently it confuses them and means they must issue new charts and maps.” She ended her sentence with a snort. “So no, I can no longer paint my night sky as I once did.”

Mac nodded, opening his mouth to say something more then blinked as the dream wavered about them, the forest clearing shivering and beginning to fade. “Naw. That can’t be morning already?”

Luna smiled sadly. “I am afraid so. It is the way of all things. The most pleasant moments always seem to pass the quickest. My sister will shortly be raising the sun and our time together will end.”

“Before we have t’go, one more question. The press, what should ah say to them? They’re gonna be camped out by the farm again tomorrow.”

“You may say as much or as little as you wish, Mac. They cannot MAKE you answer their questions, nor can they make you venture more information than you are comfortable with. Do what feels right.”

The dream shuddered again and the sound of a rooster crowing could be dimly heard in the distance. Before Luna could say anything more she found her lips claimed by his as Mac leaned down to kiss her firmly, one hoof cupping her chin to guide her into the kiss.

“See ya Friday night,” he promised before the dream faded and Luna opened her eyes to find herself back in her bed.