Rookwood struggled against mental exhaustion. He was having trouble thinking. Taking it all in. The past week had been nothing but lessons, from sundown to sunup. He had tirelessly performed. He had learned a great deal, like the fact that he could absorb magic in shadow form, something that was entirely new to both Princesses, and Celestia had sent off a letter to her former student, Twilight Sparkle, to see if Twilight could a reference to such a thing. Even some of Luna’s more devastating spells were absorbed harmlessly, sustaining his body, replenishing his energy, reducing his need for food and rest. It had become a way to recharge in between lessons.

More importantly, absorbing magic made Rookwood powerful. His collision and subsequent absorption of some of Luna’s memories was most likely due to his earlier encounter with the ward that night. Luna was baffled, which worried Rookwood a little, as she was the Goddess of Night and no stranger to shadowmancy, but now, she was running into unknowns with Rookwood.

Rookwood’s demeanor had changed a great deal since peering into Luna’s mind, first seeing her broken, and then seeing her struggle against Nightmare Moon for a thousand years in her prison. He was now dedicated. Serious. Aggressive even. Everypony had noticed the change, but none more so than Celestia.

Celestia watched with a certain sense of respect and fear. She feared losing Rookwood to the darkness. When he had first arrived, he was little more than a bumbling adolescent colt. Now, he was young colt who was a seething cauldron of rage, repressed anger from his upbringing, and he was being burned alive, consumed by love. And it wasn’t the heady sweet and innocent love of a young colt and filly in the throes of first time love… Rookwood had seen too much, felt too much, and was entirely too aware of all of Luna’s secrets and intimate details. He was involved. He was committed.

And he was as dangerous as any young colt in love might be, ruled by his passions. Perhaps more so given his odd abilities and relatively unknown powers. Celestia worried that he might go too far, or worse, burn himself out in sacrifice. It nagged at her mind and was a constant worry.

Celestia’s worst worries today though were of a different nature as she strode down the hall towards breakfast. Rookwood’s parents had arrived the afternoon before. And Rookwood had refused to see them, saying that his lessons were entirely too important.

Rookwood had been right. His parents were indeed unpleasant. Their first comments upon meeting Celestia was to tell her that she was the most successful welfare recipient in all of Equestria, living off the fat of the land and doing nothing in a castle all day while her subjects laboured away in real jobs. Celestia had to restrain the urge to say something, and had graciously nodded her head in agreement.

Rookwood sat next to Luna, trembling in fear. To be honest, he was more comfortable with Nightmare Moon. His parents were an entirely different issue altogether. An unpleasant issue.

There was a tense, terse silence.

His father, Ravenwood, sat across the table, along with his mother, Icebrand. Celestia sat at the head of the table.

Nopony had dared to eat anything yet. There was a contest of wills going on.

“Father…” said Rookwood in a wavery voice, “mother, I am glad you could make it. We are pleased to have you.”

Ravenwood snorted and Icebrand rolled her eyes.

“Surely you must be happy about having a grandfoal.” Luna said diplomatically.

“Oh, I am thrilled,” said Icebrand, “to know that my son is having a foal with the common whore that visits everypony in their dreams and indulges in their nocturnal sins with them. Including my own foal, who was a sweet and innocent foal until you went into his dreams and corrupted him.”

Rookwood could hear Luna’s jaw creak as her teeth began to grind together. The room became rather warm. He glanced at Celestia and didn’t like what he saw. Nope. Not at all. He had seen those eyes before, looking at him. He squirmed uncomfortably. Those eyes were now affixed on his parents.

Rookwood, having survived many intense moments around his parents table and this one as well bravely spooned a bit of cottage cheese and pineapple on to his plate and began to eat.

“And why must it be so dark in here?” Ravenwood asked. “The blinds are closed. Let some sunlight in.”

“There are some concerns about sunlight currently.” Celestia said patiently, her movements nearly mechanical.

“Yes. Something about the night witch corrupting my son with strange magic and polluting his body. I read the letter.” Ravenwood said in disgust.

A tiny fire ignited in Rookwood. It blazed brightly, burning in his fevered mind. He began to shovel down cottage cheese.

“My poor little Rookwood. Now cursed because some strumpet couldn’t control her lust and she just had to have her way with him.” Icebrand said in acidic tones.

Rookwood felt the blaze burn a little brighter. He heard Luna choke quietly, and could hear her swallowing. The air crackled with ozone.

Celestia carefully added a portion of oatmeal to a bowl and began to prepare it to her liking. She sat, unmoving, blinking slowly, her eyes fiery pinpricks of light. The corner of her eye twitched once or twice and then she became as still as a marble statue.

“Since you two are bound to be married… Could you at least hold back the official birth announcement until at least one year has passed from the marriage to spare us all some shame?” Icebrand said, her tone one of disgust.

Rookwood heard a faint growl from Luna. No wait, it wasn’t coming from Luna. Or Celestia. He looked around the room and realised it was coming from him. He whacked his barrel and cleared his throat. “Pineapple went down the wrong way.” He explained. Luna glanced at him, her face one of unbridled fury.

“Rookwood is a very good student.” Luna said. “He has learned a great deal in a short amount of time. He has a keen mind, a quick wit, and he is clever when the situation demands it.” Luna’s tone was almost velvety, soft, and barely in control. Rookwood knew too many of the signs. He felt his muscles tensing. Luna was going to explode at some point, if Celestia didn’t explode first.

Exploding princesses were bad news.

Something was terribly wrong. Luna wasn’t drinking the maple syrup. She hadn’t eaten anything actually. Her plate was still empty. Luna usually ate like a horse. Luna needed to eat like horse. And Luna was not eating like a horse currently. Which means the foal wasn’t getting the nutrients it needed.

The little flame in Rookwood poofed into a small inferno. He felt a hot raging heat along the back of his neck and behind his ears.

“I am sure my son listens with rapt attention, seeing as how his instructor is giving him inappropriate sexual favours to entice him into doing her will.” Ravenwood said to nopony in particular.

Rookwood began to sweat. He could feel it running down his sides. It was becoming unbearably hot in here. Something blazed out of control in his mind, a veritable conflagration.

“Rookwood, darling, have you even considered asking for a paternity test? Who knows how many ponies she might have consorted with in dreams.” Icebrand said.

Rookwood suddenly felt dizzy. He heard voices. They were distorted and odd. There was shouting, but he couldn’t make out what it was. He felt his glasses tumble from his nose. Pressure filled his body. His head began to thud between his ears. A second heartbeat sprang to life behind his eyes. Something inside of him broke.

Rookwood’s parents tried to scramble away from the terrifying apparition before them, standing on the table. Black flames flickered around its hooves. It was tall. Terrible and disturbing. Black and shadowy, it towered over them, looking down, purple flames raging from its white milky dead eyes. Black bat wings spread wide, filling the room with a shroud of darkness, making everything go dim. Writhing black shadow crawled along its body. It was rotten, dead, flesh hung from its form in tatters, maggots writhed in and out of its flesh. Ribs were visible, and throbbing glistening veins and arteries pulsated behind thin translucent patches of skin.

And the sound it made. A thousand voices all at once, the keening wails of the damned, the lost souls of Tartarus, an infernal chorus hidden in the black monster’s throat.

They scrambled to their hooves, running, hitting the door and shoving through, trails of urine and feces spraying out behind both of them.

Death himself had appeared on the table suddenly, conjured up from the deepest darkest pits of Tartarus where he dwelled in unholy revelry with the damned.

The smell of death and decay filled the room, the scent of rotten meat, some foul carcass left in the sun too long. It was not a smell equines were well equipped to deal with.

Ravenwood and Icebrand ran down the hall, past the confused guards, not knowing where they were going, not caring, certain that years of their lives had just been scared out of both of them, urine still streaming as they fled.

They stopped, skidding to a halt when they saw Celestia, falling down, bowing, pleading, scraping, hoping she would save them from the horrible abomination that had appeared on the table.

Celestia regarded them with pity.

“I want you gone.” Celestia said coldly. “You are banished from the city of Canterlot under the pain of death. If you return, the terror you saw will be the least of your concerns, though I may release it once again to hunt you before you die. Do you understand?”

Both of the cowering ponies nodded, huddling close to her legs, hoping she would keep the nightmare away from them. There was a gurgle of bowls as Icebrand shat herself again, cowering before the infuriated monarch.

“Guards, I want them gone. See that they are removed.” Celestia’s tone was cold. Commanding. Emotionless. Celestia turned, and walked back to the dining room, carefully watching where she stepped.

Celestia entered the door, stepping around a long puddle of urine, grimacing as she did so. She crossed the room, and then sat down in her chair. She took a deep breath.

Luna was holding Rookwood, who appeared to be under some distress.

“What happened…” Rookwood huffed.

“Shh…” Luna said in a comforting voice. “You cloaked yourself in shadow.”

“Did I just make my parents die of fright?” Rookwood heaved.

“We can only hope.” Luna cooed.

“Luna!” Celestia scolded.

“What!” Luna snapped back.

Celestia bit her lip, struggling visibly. “Nothing.” Celestia quipped. “Let us face the facts. Those ponies were repugnant.”

“I told you so.” Rookwood gasped, his barrel still heaving. “What did I do?”

“You cloaked yourself in shadow. You became the very embodiment of the nightmares of ponies everywhere, what ponies fear most. And it wasn’t the tax collector.” Luna said, grinning a wicked grin. “You have stolen Death’s visage.”

“I must confess, it took all of the willpower that I possessed to not feel the fear you were radiating.” Celestia said.

“And I am incredibly aroused right now.” Luna said.

Celestia poured herself a cup of tea and sighed.

“We are shadows sister, we have different standards. I do not expect you to understand.” Luna sniffed indignantly.

Rookwood leaned forward and began to ravenously devour food.

“Both of you are a mystery to me.” Celestia confessed. “And Rookwood?”

Rookwood paused, mid-bite, raspberry jam dribbling down his chin.

“You have my blessing.” Celestia said, slowly and carefully. “I have proof that you have been paying attention and that you will attend to my sister’s needs. Protect her. Love her. Treat her well. I welcome you as a brother.”

Rookwood drifted in and out of sleep, wrapped up in a tangle of Luna. She lay sleeping, pressed against him. Her arousal had sparked need. Terrible need. Rookwood’s bones ached. The sun raged outside, Rookwood could feel it. He gently planted a kiss on Luna’s nose and closed his eyes. She had mounted him this time, throwing him down upon the bed and then straddling him. And that had only been the first time. Rookwood was too short in stature to even attempt the beast with six legs. So they were forced to be creative.

And creative was good.

Her body was warm and soft, and she still reeked of arousal and their previous activities. The bed was damp, wet even, in places, it smelled strongly of Luna. He pulled her closer, carefully, gently, visions of what had been done to her still fresh in his mind, making it difficult to hold her, but not impossible. She settled closer, murmuring wordlessly, her lips moving.

He would do anything to protect her. Anything. He had even turned against his own parents, very nearly scaring them to death. Whatever it took, he was prepared to do it.

Hearth’s Warming Eve would soon be upon them. Rookwood pondered, what did one get a goddess for Hearth’s Warming? He thought about it for quite some time. His thoughts tumbled around him as he realised he didn’t have a job. Or money. Or much of anything.

The answer was socks of course, maybe even naughty fishnet stockings.

There were no means to secure such objects though. All of his needs seemed to be provided for at the moment, so he supposed he could not complain. Still, the idea of Luna in black saucy fishnets made his heart race. He felt something squirm between him and Luna.

He tried to will away his growing problem, but the idea of Luna in fishnets proved to be too much. He squirmed, trying to pull away from her. Luna pulled him closer.

“What are you up to?” Luna said sleepily. “Why are you still awake?”

“I was thinking about you in fishnet stockings.” Rookwood replied honestly.

“Oh my, it must have been quite a mental image.” Luna purred.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” Rookwood said. “I even tried to pull away from you so I, uh, wouldn’t accidentally poke you while you slept, but you wouldn’t let go of me.”

“I’d like to see you in some fishnet stockings.” Luna growled.

Rookwood suddenly felt very, very confused.

Luna began to giggle after maintaining the act for a several minutes.

“I’d like to see my self in fishnets. I bet I’d look pretty.” Rookwood said.

Luna tittered and pulled him in for a kiss, pressing her long lithe body against his. “If I said I wanted your body, would you hold it against me?” She ground herself against him,

“Are your legs tired?” Rookwood inquired.

“I am afraid to answer.” Luna giggled.

“You’ve been running through my mind all night!” Rookwood chuckled.

“Oh, that’s bad. And I like it.” Luna said, pressing her lips against Rookwood’s just to shut him up and silence his horrible pick up lines.

Author's Notes:

Next chapter... Heartache on Hearth's Warming.