It was time to take stock for a moment. Was he awake? He was pretty certain of it. Turning his head to quickly nip at his own shoulder confirmed it, also ow. Why did he bite the one that was already bruising up nicely? Still, definite confirmation that he was awake. Of course, it could always be that the beam had actually smacked him on the head and this was some elaborate dream? He doubted it, he simply wasn’t that imaginative and… Was she staring at him? She was staring at him. Oh right, probably because he was gawping at her with his jaw hanging slackly open like a fool.

Mac gathered the remnants of his dignity and pushed the door shut, waving a forehoof to motion for the Princess to step into the kitchen. Might as well sit down and have a cup of tea; wouldn’t do to not offer royalty a little hospitality. As she walked ahead of him he couldn’t help but notice certain things about his unexpected guest. Much to his surprise, they were the same size; that was a pleasant change for sure. He’d got used to looking down on near everyone around Ponyville; he was even bigger than most of the local stallions and he sometimes got a terrible crick in his neck if he wasn’t careful.

Secondly, she wasn’t all skin and bone like he had been expecting. He’d seen those Canterlot ponies, living on nothing more than a handful of leaves and a tiny glass of water, apparently scared that anything with some actual substance to it would immediately cause them to swell up like one of Pinkie Pie’s balloons.

Celestia was all leg, and while she did have a very pretty, errrr no. No thinking about royalty like that. Nope. Definitely not looking at Luna’s rump to compare it to Celestia’s, definitely not noticing how the dark alicorn’s toned muscles could be seen shifting beneath that fine coat of midnight-blue hair, how her starry tail was swishing and… NOPE. He shook his head firmly to stop that particular train of thought right at the station before the passengers had even had time to board.

She must be here on business. Maybe they were looking for a new supplier for the Palace kitchens? This could bode well for the fortunes of the family!

“Most quaint,” Luna mused as she looked around the kitchen, even closing her eyes for a moment as she drew a deep breath and enjoyed the smells of apples, spice and soap. “We do not mean that as a slight, far from it. It is a pleasant change from the Palace kitchens and dining rooms with their pomp and ceremony. “

Mac was still having a bit of trouble with the reality of the situation. No matter how many times he turned to look at the reassuringly mundane surroundings of the kitchen, each time he looked back he still found Princess Luna standing there with a slightly embarrassed look on her face that, if he was honest with himself, actually made her look quite cute.

NoNoNoNo. There it was again. They’d rescheduled the train of thought, got a replacement in play and were trying to load it up all over again. Quick, say something. Say something meaningful, something thoughtful. Just say something!

“Eeeyup.” …Damn.

Luna cleared her throat, “We understand this must be confusing for thee. Thou’rt no doubt wondering what our purpose is in being here.”

"Lil bit.” Mac deadpanned, then paused and motioned to the table, “Tea?”

“Would be most pleasant, McIntosh Apple. Our thanks.” She seemed a little relieved by this most mundane of offerings, quickly sitting herself down and giving her mane a shake. He was excruciatingly aware of her eyes on him as he busied himself at the stove, setting out the utensils and putting the kettle on to heat. He struggled with that a little, grumbling to himself as his huge hooves simply didn’t fit into handles and grips designed for a more normal-sized pony. They’d talked about getting ones more suited for him but, as usual, they simply didn’t have the money for it.

As he attempted to fill the kettle he was startled to find it glowing blue, floating from his mouth to hover under the tap. “Allow me,” Luna said as her magic turned the tap and filled the kettle while Mac got the stove going. He gave her a quick nod and a hint of a smile, not noticing the blush that coloured her cheeks as she set the kettle down to boil.

That simple ritual attended to, he sat across the table from her, watching as she fidgeted with her forehooves, the awkward silence drawing out till even Mac felt the need to say something to break the increasingly oppressive atmosphere, “Ain’t nothin’ wrong is there, Princess?”

“Oh! Oh no, not in the least. You have our apologies if we have concerned thee. No. We are--This is--We are not here in a formal capacity,” she lapsed back into silence after this statement, staring fixedly at the tabletop as if she was trying to count every little line and scratch in the wood. “In truth we came to ask thee, to ask you, something McIntosh Apple.”

Okay, so not bad news, that was a start. Probably not to do with the farm supplying the palace either. Oh no, had she come to draft him into the Night Guard or something? While being able to fly would certainly be amazing, he wasn’t sure he really wanted to be sporting bat wings. Maybe they needed a new gardener? He wasn’t sure what he thought about spending his time working on flowers and shrubs rather than the orchard. “Eeeyup?” He gently prompted, hoping to coax a little more in the way of explanation from her.

“We—I—wondered if you would consent to having dinner with me. Tonight.” Starting out so softly that even Fluttershy would think it a little on the quiet side, her voice gained both speed and volume as she all but blurted it out all at once and then sat there, gazing expectantly at him.

At this juncture, in romance novels, he was sure that he was meant to have more than one thought running through his head, that he should feel something more than complete astonishment, but the only thing he could think to say was, “Wut? Ah… Ah don’t think ah heard ya right there, Princess?”

“Dinner, McIntosh Apple. You and I. Tonight.” She hesitated and even bit down on her bottom lip, “T’would be just the two of us, somewhere other than the Palace. This is not to be a formal affair, I merely wish to spend some time in thy company.”

“Are… Y’all asking me out on a date, Princess Luna?” This was kind of an important point here but it was fairly obvious at this juncture that she was, going by the way she dipped her head down so her mane covered her face, giving him what could only be described as a coquettish look and a shy nod of confirmation.

“I… believe that is the common term now, yes. Will you come on this date with me? There will be fine food, wine and entertainment. I can promise thee a most enjoyable evening. That is, I believe I can.” And there was that strange switch once again. One moment she was every inch the confident ruler of a nation, looking him straight in the eye, the next she was back to the inexperienced filly asking out her first school crush from behind the safety curtain of her mane.

“But… Why?” He couldn’t think of anything else to say, couldn’t find a way in which this could possibly make sense. “Why me?” What could the Princess be thinking? Was she looking to slum it with some farmhand? Maybe she had a fondness for rough trade and thought she could find it here. Part of him certainly would enjoy rutting her till she couldn’t walk straight, a dark little voice in his mind betting that plot of hers could take some punishment, but at the same time he’d waited this long for a reason and he wasn’t about to jump atop the first mare that so much as winked at him.

“Because I have heard you, Mac,” her voice was soft as she lifted her head to meet his gaze. “I have heard the secrets whispered to the stars when you think no-one is listening. In some respects I know thee better than thine own family. I know you have never lain with a mare, waiting for the one who will truly capture your heart; I know that there are days you dream of flying and I know that you worry for the security of your family and for young Applebloom’s future.”

Mac could feel his cheeks burning, feel the rush of blood to his ears as she proved that she had indeed heard all the things he’d said when it was just him and the stars and the silence, when he could wonder out loud about all the things that might have been in another life. “Ah’d ‘preciate you not spreadin’ those around, Princess, that first one in particular. They ain’t things ah intended for anyone to hear.”

“Oh, I, of course. You’re right. You must forgive me, McIntosh. I sometimes forget that…” She cleared her throat and looked down at the table, muttering something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like, “This was easier when we only had concubines.”

He turned quickly from the table as the kettle began its shrill whistle, making sure that the sudden loud noise wasn’t in fact coming from his own ears as his cheeks flushed an even brighter shade. Focusing instead on the familiar task of making a pot of tea he tried to gather his thoughts and tried very, very hard not to think about that last comment.

Foremost in his thoughts was that one single question - Should he say yes? He could think of many reasons to say no, but the more he thought about it the more those reasons seemed petty and shallow, worries about what might be or what could happen, concerns over what people might say, not about himself, but about the Princess. He lifted the tray of cups and teapot and set it on the table before retaking his seat, his brow furrowed in a frown. “Y’ain’t worried about what folks might say?”

“And what would they say, McIntosh?” She asked as her magic again flared, pouring the tea for them both in an arcane display that Mac could only watch with admiration. Before his wide eyes she effortlessly manipulated the cups, spoons, pots and jars in an intricate dance of liquid and vapour as she poured the drinks for them both. The fact a Princess was serving him his tea wasn’t entirely lost on McIntosh either.

“That ya can do better,” he stated bluntly even as his cup came to settle in front of him. He gazed down at the slowly swirling amber liquid for a moment, “They’ll say that you’re demeanin’ yourself by hanging around with some farmer from a backwater like Ponyville rather than some lord or high-flier from Canterlot or Manehattan. There’ll be a scandal, Princess.”

“And this worries you?”

“Not especially,” he replied with a laconic shrug of his broad shoulders. “We ain’t got secrets t’hide. Let’em say what they like. Them as matters won’t make a fuss, and them as make a fuss don’t matter. But you… Ain’t so easy for you, Princess. You got a lot more eyes on ya.”

“This is true, but there is really only one thing that matters to me, Mac.” She set her cup down on the table and leaned forward a little, “Regardless of what these others may think or say, regardless of what might happen should we pursue this, is there a reason why you should refuse my request? Do not worry about the others, for this moment think only of thyself and answer me true. If there is a reason why thou should say no, then I will depart and leave thee in peace. No more will be said.”

He finally looked back up to find her still watching him, her own expression schooled into an unreadable mask, star-filled mane slowly shifting in that breeze only she could feel. Was there a reason he should say no, a real reason? Was there something more than just the nebulous maybes or could-bes? He knew a lot of folks thought he was sweet on Cheerilee, or on Fluttershy, but while he considered them both friends he had no aspirations there, content to leave those relationships as they stood.

The truth was that no, he couldn’t find a good reason to say no to her, but at the same time he was still a bit too startled by the whole situation to be able to come up with many reasons to say yes. He hardly knew her other than through her all too brief visits to Ponyville, visits that had left him… He blinked as it struck him. Too-short visits that had left him wishing he could spend more time getting to know her and, just like that, he had his answer. “Ah’d like that, Princess. Ah think ah’d like that a whole lot. I’d be mighty honoured t’have dinner with you.”

“You… You are? You will?” His response had been so slow coming that she had already begun to steel herself for the rejection she was sure was coming. A heartbeat later Mac found himself wrapped in her forelegs and smothered against her chest as she squealed in exultation and lunged around the table to scoop him up. “Thou’lt not regret this, Mac!” She promised, “This will be an evening to remember!”

Mac was fairly certain it would be, one way or the other, assuming he lived that long. At this point he was aware of a number of things. Firstly the Princess was surprisingly strong, those forelegs trapping him against her like iron bands; secondly, he was pleasantly surprised to find she smelled faintly of lavender; thirdly, and surprising for other reasons, was the knowledge that part of him was actually rather enjoying this. This, it seemed, was a mare that was quite capable of keeping up with an earth pony in the strength stakes. Lastly, and rather more pressingly, her embrace was actually making it rather difficult to breathe, his face smothered into her coat in an uncomfortable fashion.

Mac attempted to give a muffled reply, but it wasn’t until the tapping of his hoof against Luna’s leg got increasingly frantic that she released him and stepped back, shyly rubbing her hoof against her ankle. “We beg thy pardon, McIntosh. Our enthusiasm got the best of us. We would never intend to hurt thee.”

Taking a deep breath of sweet, delicious, vastly-underrated air, Mac nodded and waved a hoof in dismissal. “So,” he finally managed to gasp out. “Tonight?”

“Tonight. We shall send a chariot for thee.” She opened her mouth to say more, then frowned as a thought occurred, “Mac, I do not mean thee to take this as an insult but perhaps it would be best were we to keep this courting between I and thee to begin with. Your concerns are not entirely without merit and I would rather that our courting be carried out without a burden of unwanted attention on either of us.”

He could certainly understand Luna’s concern, and her need for privacy. The pressponies in Canterlot were well known for being unrelenting in sniffing out gossip about the nobility and the royal family especially. The normal goings-on at the palace were picked over with a fine tooth comb, the slightest incident filling the papers with rampant speculation and rumour.

If it were to become public knowledge that Luna was seen in the company of a common pony there’d be a scandal at the very least, press invading the farm, getting in the way when the family was working… No, he had to agree with her, best they keep a lid on things until they were certain this relationship was going to go somewhere beyond just one date.

“Eeeyup,” he agreed and tapped a hoof to the side of his nose as he winked. Nothing more needed to be said.

Luna gave him a warm smile and the two walked in companionable silence to the door. Mac stepped ahead to quickly hold it open for the Princess who suddenly paused at the doorway with a thoughtful look on her face. “There was a custom once, when I was young. An exchange of tokens, a declaration of intention, if you will. I would give thee a token, Mac. You need not worry about returning it just yet; it is hardly fair to expect thee to reciprocate when this is the first thou’rt hearing of it.”

Her magic flared and with a soft ~pop~ of displaced air, a blue orchid appeared on the table beside the cups and plates, the colour of that single bloom a near perfect match for Luna’s coat.

“An exchange of flowers to begin with,” she explained, “between courting couples, in the colours of their respective coats. Should things progress between us then there are other tokens which might be exchanged. In the case of pegasi they would offer each other a feather, for instance.”

Mac’s haunches came crashing down to the floor as he gently scooped the flower up between his forehooves, staring down at it as the reality of the situation came crashing down on him full force. He was really going to do this; this was actually happening. Princess Luna was really in his house, really asking him out on a date and he’d really accepted.

“Eeeyup,” was all he could find to say, lost for anything else to add. All he could do was look helplessly up at Luna, then back down at the flower he was cradling like it might shatter at any moment.

“Till tonight then, Mac.” Luna smiled as she trotted out, leaving the stunned stallion staring as the door closed behind her.

“...Eeeyup?”