Luna stood on wobbling legs, panting heavily. She struggled to stand, her hips quivering and shuddering. Rookwood was behind her, nose muzzle deep in her midnight folds, doing what Rookwood did best. Standing was a good position for Rookwood, with nothing to rub up against him and cause him to go off.

Rookwood’s tongue! Luna still could not believe her good fortune.

The sun was slowly setting, and Rookwood was gaining strength as the day drew to a close. Luna could feel his shadowy essence beginning to faintly manifest, causing electric tingles in her marehood. She could feel his tongue brush with a featherweight pressure over her nubbin. Luna pushed herself backward, frustrated and flustered by the teasing touch.

There was a knock. Three little knocks, one loud knock.

Luna hissed. “My sister… Rookwood, hide yourself. Cover your excitement. Do something.” Rookwood gave her one teasing parting lick and a bit of a suckle.

“Sister, is it safe to come in?” Celestia said insistently.

“Yes sister, you may come in.” Luna said breathlessly, struggling to quickly regain her composure. Luna’s wings were misbehaving. Rookwood had vanished. Luna could feel him, he was close.

“Tonight is Hearth’s Warming Eve.” Celestia said. “Twilight Sparkle, Cadance, and Shining Armor have arrived earlier this day. I wanted to make sure that you were still up for our walk tonight. Our subjects were a bit concerned that our public appearance is not happening during the day, but I wanted Rookwood with us.”

“Yes, I am looking forward tonight.” Luna said breathlessly.

“Are you alright sister?” Celestia inquired.

“Having mommy troubles. It is evening sickness.” Luna said.

“Still having some trouble?” Celestia asked.

“Yes.” Luna said, her breath hitching.

Luna felt an odd tickle in her nethers. Something shadow creeping. Tickling.

No!

Luna giggled.

“Luna?” Celestia said, now worried.

“I, uh, ooh my, I just felt light headed for a moment. I haven’t eaten yet.” Luna lied.

Luna could feel Rookwood. And Rookwood was up to no good. She kicked a hind leg and began to squirm. She could feel his shadowy presence creeping into her now convulsing marehood. Luna began having trouble maintaining the magic that was hiding the smell in the room. The hot smell of sex.

“Luna? I am worried. You don’t seem well.” Celestia said. “Where is Rookwood?”

“In the bathroom!” Luna moaned.

Celestia looked puzzled.

Luna had Rookwood completely up her backside. He was squirming around inside her now, a very naughty wisp of shadowstuff. And she was going to pay him back for this.

“Gaaah!” Luna cried.

“Luna? Something is wrong! Stop lying to me! I know something is wrong.” Celestia glared sternly at her sister. Luna was gnawing her lip and was standing there crosseyed.

Luna let out a long orgasmic moan, losing her struggle. “Damn you Rookwood!” She gasped after several moments of moaning.

“Rookwood?” Celestia said in confusion. Her ears flickered as she heard trickling liquid dribbling from Luna’s backside and dripping to the floor. “Luna, what in Tartarus?”

Rookwood understood now how Luna had slapped him from within his own head. He began to hum in smug satisfaction, causing his shadowstuff to vibrate with flesh tingling intensity.

Another rush of liquid spattered from Luna’s backside. The smell of sex flooded the room.

“LUNA!” Celestia said… “Are you…”

“Uuurgh aaargh uugh hrunf!” Luna grunted, her tongue dangling out, flapping as her head shook back and forth.

“Oh Tartarus, what have I witnessed?” Celestia cried. “My sister’s ‘O’ face!”

“Well, we were in the middle of a bit of fun.” Rookwood’s disembodied voice said. Luna’s eyes squeezed shut, and her ears folded against her skull. She whimpered and let out tiny cries. “And there was a knock upon the door. Luna told me to hide. So I did.”

“Rookwood, are you in my sister’s…” Celestia’s voice trailed off, her mouth hanging open.

“Completely!” Rookwood replied cheerfully, the reverberation of his voice causing Luna to wobble alarmingly.

“I have tried to teleport three times now and my magic just keeps failing.” Celestia gasped.

“There’s a foal in here.” Rookwood said. “My foal. Want to know a secret?”

Celestia stood frozen, torn between fleeing and wanting to know what Rookwood had found. Luna continued to moan, thrashing her head about, her eyes rolling around wildly in their sockets.

Luna flung herself down upon the bed and kicked her legs.

“Rookwood! No more! Say something!” Celestia said.

“Yes, please say something… Oh please oh please.” Luna pleaded.

“I think it is a filly.” Rookwood announced. “This is amazing. Just what I wanted for Hearth’s Warming.”

“I’m getting what I wanted for Hearth’s Warming.” Luna panted.

“We’ll talk later!” Celestia cried, turning around and fleeing the room.

Rookwood drifted out of Luna’s ear and watched her thrash about on the bed, enjoying himself immensely.

Rookwood lazed in the warm waters of the bath, Luna beside him. Luna shot him the occasional dirty look, but Rookwood could live with the stinkeye. Luna’s legs were still quivering.

“I cannot believe you did that.” Luna said. “I want to be angry with you, but I cannot. What you did was clever and has placed us on even hoofing. I do believe we are even, now having exchanged pranks. I acknowledge you as my equal.”

Rookwood smiled.

“You think it is a filly?” Luna queried.

“I think. Hard to tell. Very small. Little head, little body, little legs.” Rookwood said, causing Luna to sigh happily.

“I think I mortified Celestia.” Rookwood said. “And I think I feel good about it.”

Luna chortled. “Celestia is a crafty foe. You do not want to engage her mischevious pranks. She has the experience of centuries.”

“And I have you. Together, we can take her.” Rookwood submerged in the water, soaking his whole body. Water ran into his ears. He surfaced a moment later.

“My sister will not soon forget this. Expect repercussions.” Luna warned. “For the both of us. She will set her will against me for my ruse and my lying, and she will move against you for your… treachery.” Luna took a long deep breath. “I am going to want you to do that again you know.”

“So about tonight. We’ll be out?” Rookwood asked.

“Yes. Every year, for Hearth’s Warming, the royals go for a walk along the central avenues of Canterlot. We fling candies, toys, dolls, little gifts and trinkets to the families that gather along the sides of the avenue.” Luna explained.

“I am not a royal.” Rookwood said in a small voice.

“But you will be.” Luna replied.

The words hit Rookwood hard, causing him to think about all manner of things. He had a very different view about nobility than his parents did. And his view had changed considerably just recently. Luna and Celestia both were very hard workers, Luna minding all manner of things that went on in her night. Nobles were full of self sacrifice and servitude.

“I am not sure I am ready for that Luna.” Rookwood muttered. “I have a much better level of understanding of what really goes on behind these walls. I’ll give all I have to offer, but I worry it will not be enough.”

“Nonsense.” Luna said. “Nothing is expected of you except that you are a good father.”

“No.” Rookwood retorted. “That isn’t what I expect from myself. And being a good father means being a good example. I plan to do the exact opposite of everything my father did. If I am to be your husband, I intend to be at your side, assisting you in your duties. I will not passively sit by and allow you to go into the darkness alone. Not after what I’ve witnessed. And if you expect me to sit by and be idle, then you and I will have some harsh words.”

“Rookwood, you keep surprising me.” Luna admitted. “Depositing yourself up my backside as my sister tries to converse, spouting off noble platitudes, showing a remarkable maturity for your age…”

Rookwood stared at the two cloaks upon the table. Both were black. Heavy. Thick. Each was trimmed in silver piping and had indigo lining. Both looked menacing somehow.

“Are you sure? Doesn’t seem festive.” Rookwood said, unsure.

“It is what I wear when I go out in public and have an appearance.” Luna said. “It is the mantle of my station. And it will be yours as well.”

Rookwood shuddered looking at the cloak. It was black. And looking at it filled him with a sense of dread, a distinct feeling of foreboding. It was as black as a funerary shroud. A long series of shivers ran down his spine.

“Something is bothering you. I can sense it and see it.” Luna said, looking at him quizzically. “What do you see when you look upon the cloaks?”

“Darkness.”

Luna nodded. “Yes my dear Rookwood. The darkness has claimed us both. These are the mantles of our office. Now come on. I will help dress you and then you are going to meet some new ponies.”

Rookwood stood, cloaked, his glasses perched carefully upon his nose. He felt awkward. Out of place. He felt himself being stared at, studied. By Twilight Sparkle in particular. Rookwood was a book, and Twilight was trying to read him.

“Relax Rookwood.” Shining Armor said, grinning broadly.

For all of their differences, the two siblings were remarkably similar.

“Luna, he sort of stays tensed up, doesn’t he?” Cadance said.

“New ponies, new situation.” Luna said.

“I was a loser in school. And now I am here. And I am clueless as to how to act.” Rookwood blurted, his honesty painful.

“You probably will not believe me, but I was one of the biggest dorks in school.” Shining Armor said in a soft voice. “I was a spineless nerd. And look who I married. The secret, I’ve found, is just to be yourself. I know it sounds cliche, but I would swear that it is true.”

Rookwood nodded slowly.

“And I am the Princess of books, nerds, and dorks everywhere.” Twilight said in warm gentle tones. “I am the patron of bookworms, the socially inept, and the wallflowers of the world.”

“Going to be cold out there tonight.” Cadance said.

“My fault. I’m sorry.” Rookwood offered.

“Not your fault, nothing to be sorry over. You can’t help it if you burst into flames when entering direct sunlight.” Twilight said. “Really interesting problem though. I wish I had been there to see that. Really very fascinating.”

“Going to be better at night time anyway. The eight foot candy canes, the strings of coloured lights everywhere, everypony is going to be pressed closer together to stave off the cold… It is going to be magical.” Shining Armor said.

“I agree.” Celestia agreed.

“I’m nervous.” Luna said.

“Why auntie?” Cadance inquired.

“I just am. Ponies are always so afraid of me.” Luna said distractedly.

“I am not afraid of you.” Rookwood said. “But Celestia is another story.”

Cadance began to giggle and titter.

Celestia scowled. “You should be afraid Rookwood.”

“Did I miss something?” Twilight asked.

Cadance continued to giggle.

“Cadance knows?” Luna questioned.

“Auntie Celestia came to me in much distress and I was able to pry it out of her.” Cadance said.

Luna laughed nervously.

Rookwood felt a prickle of heat began to travel up and down his spine. His ears grew hot. He flicked his dark blue and light green tail from side to side.

“What happened?” Twilight asked.

Cadance leaned over and looked at Twilight. “I keep my aunt's secrets.” She proclaimed. Twilight stood and looked rather disappointed.

“Rookwood is a very naughty colt.” Celestia said sternly. “We should bring back the noble tradition of a chaperone.”

Luna began to chuckle. “I have to keep Rookwood close to keep him protected. Your threat is meaningless.”

Celestia raised her eyebrow and smiled faintly. “And he was in a very secure location earlier…”

“I am confused.” Twilight protested.

Celestia leaned down and began to whisper in Twilight’s ear. The effect was comical. Twilight Sparkle broke down slowly, the corner of her eye twitching, one ear flicking, one wing fluttering.

“I, urgh, how… Rookwood!” Twilight snapped.

Rookwood chortled within his hood, Luna joining him for a laugh.

Twilight looked very distressed as the doors opened and they began their walk through the darkened streets of Canterlot.

It wasn’t long after leaving the castle gates that the procession began to notice something odd with the crowds. Many were chanting Luna’s name. There were whistles and catcalls. Cheers rang out. Flowers were being thrown, which made the guards surrounding the procession rather nervous. A huge crowd of ponies were cluster near the palace gates, it was one of the largest Hearth’s Warming crowds any of the princesses had ever seen.

“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?” Luna said, her tone commanding but gentle.

“Is it true?” A mare shouted over the crowd.

“IS WHAT TRUE? SPEAK PLAINLY.” Luna replied.

“Are you going to marry?” The mare questioned, causing the crowd to go crazy.

“What do I do sister?” Luna whispered to Celestia.

“Well, we have not made plans for a formal announcement.” Celestia said, her voice nearly lost over the roar of the crowd.

“And Rookwood has not technically proposed.” Luna said.

Rookwood facehoofed.

The crowd was becoming very insistent now, shouting and stomping their hooves. Loud cheers erupted, whistles, more catcalls, and ponies were letting off holiday poppers, which made loud cracks and sent streamers and confetti into the air. The guards were jumpy, but the crowd was in good cheer.

“It is my intention to marry Princess Luna, if she will have me, and if you, the gracious public, will allow me!” Rookwood shouted.

The crowd fell completely silent. The lunar pegasi guards became jumpy. In their experience, quiet crowds were bad crowds. They tightened ranks. Twilight Sparkle found herself pressed into Cadance as the guards crowded around them.

Luna stared at Rookwood wide eyed, her expression one of shock and surprise, her teal eyes visible within the shadowy confines of her hood. Her breath was visible in the cold, heaving out great clouds of steam.

Celestia nudged her sister softly, trying to get a response.

The crowd suddenly went crazy, terrifying the guards. It took a few moments for the panic to pass as the guards realised the crowd was happy.

“I accept.” Luna whispered in a tiny impossible to hear voice. Rookwood couldn’t hear her, but he was able to read her lips. A second later, Luna’s face filled his vision, her muzzle planted against his, their faces hidden in the thick hoods of the cloaks they both wore.

The roar of the crowd was deafening.

The procession began the long slow march through Canterlot, with the Princesses flinging toys and candies out into the crowds.

Rookwood stumbled forward, numb, but not from the cold. Luna kept stealing glances at him, sly glances, her gaze feeling him with odd feelings. The bright lights strung all around stung his eyes, the street lights were nearly blinding.

He suffered a painful revelation that the lights in the castle had been growing dimmer and dimmer in Luna’s quarters. He thought back to the ritual, thinking about the single lamp burning in his room, and how bright it had been. And now, Luna’s wing was perpetually dim. Shadowy. And that was to Rookwood’s vision. How dark must it be to everypony else if he found it dim? The lights now were dazzling. Painful. Even his parents had complained that the room they had breakfasted in had been dark. He stumbled, nearly falling, and felt the warm tingle of magic around his body.

“Easy there.” Twilight Sparkle said with a wink.

“Too bright.” Rookwood said, squinting behind his glasses. He squeezed his eyes shut, and the opened them. The light didn’t seem so bright now. He blinked a few times.

“Rookwood!” Cadance said, leaning into his ear. “I can see through your legs.”

Rookwood looked down and panicked slightly. He was translucent. But the light didn’t burn his eyes in this form. He became aware that he might scare the crowds if somepony noticed. He struggled for a few moments, becoming opaque and then solid.

He leaned on Luna and closed his eyes. He felt Luna leaning back upon him, and he felt secure that she would lead him along. For a moment, he could feel the light burning through his eyelids, he opened his eyes briefly and was dazzled by an enormous tree trimmed in lights and glowing giant candy canes. He felt a powerful wave of nausea. He shut his eyes and continued forward, feeling weak and confused by what was happening, not understanding what was going on. He stumbled again, and felt another body pressing up against his other side. He opened one eye briefly and saw a flash of white.

“Something is wrong Luna.” Shining Armor said, never once breaking his wide smile for the public, turning his head from side to side, spreading candy and toys from sacks carried by the guards.

“I know.” Luna replied, doing the same.

“I’ll be fine. Just keep going.” Rookwood said.

“We’ll have to get you some protective eyewear.” Luna said, still smiling, endearing herself to the public. “This is where shadow illusion would be most useful. You could go dim and project an image of being solid to save yourself this discomfort.”

Rookwood took the words to heart and made a mental note to spend more time learning shadow illusion. He focused on placing one hoof in front of the other. He heard Hearth’s Warming carols being sung someplace. He felt a twinge of sadness, struck with the sudden realisation that he was somehow losing this world of light, sound, and music. He spent all day in sepulchral darkness, locked away in the vault that was Luna’s chambers, and then all night in study, slowly losing himself to shadow. This is what Luna had felt, still felt, finding herself immersed unwillingly into an unknown darkness and forced to face the horrors she had found there. And nopony really understood what was out there, with the exception of the lunar pegasi. Nopony appreciated what it was that Luna did for them. The secret war fought in the darkness. Rookwood had become aware of shades, bad shadows, fell creatures that fed on fear and corrupted ponies. There were real horrors in the night, true terrors, and the public lived mostly in ignorance of what was out there. And for one thousand years, Luna had been locked away in the moon, and the lunar pegasi had to face the darkness alone, without Luna’s guidance or leadership, and the wounds found in the dark had festered and become a breeding ground for the very stuff of nightmares. And now, Nightmare Moon was active once again, no longer just a shadowy remnant, but an active force of evil in the darkness.

Rookwood heard festive bells and it pulled him from his reflections. He opened his eyes slightly and saw a sea of foals, mares, stallions, of all colours and sizes, the tribes all together. They waved and cheered, confetti flew through the air, streamers floated, and steamy breath was visible in the bitter cold. The moon had risen over the tops of the buildings, and he could feel a gentle warmth soaking through his cloak and into his flesh. The light didn’t feel so bad when the moon shone upon him. He felt stronger, his steps more secure.

He drank in the essence of the moon, taking in sustenance. He focused his will, concentrated, and then pushed his will in the form of shadow, giving Luna a goose just below her cutie mark, causing her to jump slightly and squeal like a filly. Rookwood could see the castle in the distance. They had completed the circle and were now coming home.

Home, Rookwood thought. This was home. Were Luna’s chambers also his own? He didn’t know, and felt a brief rush of confusion. But it was good to be home.

The group had spent the last hour or so eating cookies, festive little cakes, drinking eggnog, and hot chocolate. Luna had lifted the entire glass bowl of eggnog with her magic and had guzzled it down as Cadance and Twilight watched in horror. Luna’s belch had nearly blown over the holiday tree. Rookwood was drinking mulled wine, and sitting in a shadowy corner of the room, still wrapped in his heavy cloak, reclining on an overstuffed chair. He watched as Luna destroyed a table covered in a fine holiday spread. Rookwood would never say it, but he had noticed that Luna was getting some extra padding in a few places. Delightful places. He took a long drink of his warmed mulled wine and watched her, looking somewhat owlish in his glasses.

A guard entered the room and gently pushed through the crowd, reaching Luna’s side and whispering something in Luna’s ear. Luna looked alarmed and dropped her cookie, half eaten, upon the floor. The guard turned and left with Luna in tow, and Rookwood was off of his chair in a moment, following after them, never once realising his hooves were not touching the floor.

He fell in behind Luna as they went down the passageway, destination unknown. The guard turned to look at Rookwood, and then looked down, and then brought his head around and stared straight ahead. Luna, picking up on the guard’s concern, looked back at Rookwood and then gave a nod, before turning her head back to see where she was going.

Rookwood realised he was drifting down the hall, half in, and half out of shadow, his legs little more than shadowy smoky trails of vapour. He shrugged and kept going, not caring, feeling a bit more comfortable traveling this way.

Rookwood discovered they were heading to the infirmary wing, near the barracks. He had been half in and half out of shadow for a while now, and he was starting to feel it. He landed on solid legs and trotted to keep up with Luna.

“Show off.” Luna said, her tone holding faint praise. It also held worry. And maybe a little anger.

They pushed through a door and then stood in a room. Two foals lay in beds, looking odd. Faded. Grey. They had no colour, as though they had had the life drained out of them.

“And more are incoming Mistress.” A guard grunted. “We are getting reports of odd disturbances all over the kingdom. Dark shadows cover the land.”

Luna looked alarmed and concerned. She went over to the bed and stood over the foal, examining it, her horn glowing. “It is still asleep. It lies dreaming. Locked in slumber.”

The guards in the room nodded.

“Why didn’t we just wink here Luna? Seems the walk took precious time.” Rookwood asked.

“Yes. Precious time for me to collect my thoughts, my emotions, and to collect my will. The walk allowed me to focus my efforts on the small amount of information the guard has given me.” Luna explained, her tone careful and measured, the tone of voice she used when teaching or making an important point.

Rookwood nodded.

“I am going in.” Luna said. “I must determine what is wrong.”

“I am going with you.” Rookwood said.

“No.” Luna commanded. “Too much is unknown. We do not know what we face.”

“I cannot learn if you don’t allow me to take risks with you.” Rookwood reasoned.

Luna nodded. “Very well. Be on your hooves. I will guide you in.”

The room distorted wildly and went dim, as Rookwood felt himself tugged into shadow and drawn into the mind of the foal in the bed.

Before him was a tiny filly with exaggeratedly cute features and a moon cutie mark. She had a powder blue mane and tail, and a dark blue pelt. Rookwood realised he was much the same, now small, a colt foal, tiny, with stubby short legs. And large oversized glasses that probably made him look ridiculous.

“I await your explanation.” Rookwood implored.

“We are not in the regular dreamscape,” said Luna, “but within a foal’s mind. And something is terribly wrong. This foal has been scared to the verge of death. We are in non threatening forms. This is how I appear in the minds of the very young. And you are adorable. Oh my gosh!” Luna’s voice was squeaky and kind of lispy.

Rookwood groaned and followed Luna as they ventured forward. The room they were in was inhabited by giants. A chair nearby towered over them. A door in front of them had to be fifty feet tall. It was disorienting and caused vertigo. Everything was stretched out and elongated.

Luna stood in the door and paused, looking around. She backed up and whimpered in panic. “Look out! Hide!”

Rookwood scrambled and hid behind a table leg as a massive thirty foot tall mare stood in the doorway, looking around the room. Terror gripped him, seizing his bowels, and he worried about his continence. Her hooffalls were terrible and shook the oversized house. She moved away from the door, into the room, and disappeared through another door, now gone from view.

“What did I just see?” Rookwood whispered.

“Do you not remember when you were young, how large and scary the world was? This is how it appeared. The rules are different here. Do not ever let a ‘mommy’ catch you out in the open. Bad things will happen. Very bad things. Now come on. While she is away.” Luna scooted through the doorway and into a kitchen. She prowled along the baseboard of the wall, moving quickly, her stubby little legs moving double time.

Rookwood followed.

“I think we’ll find what we want up here.” Luna said, looking up a massive flight of stairs.

“Are we teleporting or flying?” Rookwood asked.

“Neither.” Luna said. “The rules are different here. These stairs represent an impossible barrier to the foal. Magic will not work here, at least not well, we are going to have to climb these somehow.”

Rookwood stood on his hind legs, and could not reach the edge of the next step.

“Lift me.” Luna commanded.

Rookwood pushed Luna against the stair, and then pushed her upwards, planting his forehooves into her adorable little tuchus, shoving her upwards. He found himself looking away, not wanting to stare at what he usually liked to stare at. He felt embarrassed and ashamed.

Luna scrambled up over the edge, pulling herself up, her hindhooves scraping as she tried scooting her back end up and over the edge. She turned, and reached a foreleg down to Rookwood, hooking his fetlock with hers, and then struggled to pull him up.

“You’re heavy.” She panted, straining to pull him up and over the edge. There were at least a dozen stairs.

“You’re as light as a feather.” Rookwood said.

“Liar.” Luna said. “I have a fat pudgy puddin’ plot.”

The two foals struggled to work their way up the stairs, Rookwood lifting, Luna pulling, Luna deathly afraid of mommy returning and seeing them. The process was exhausting and slow. Rookwood desperately wanted to stop and rest, but mommy could return at any moment, so Luna had driven them onwards. Eventually, they reached the top of the stairs.

And before them stood a massive door. Tall. Luna pushed on it, but it didn’t budge. Luna grumbled and pouted adorably.

“Now we are in trouble.” Luna announced. “Here is the part where we call out for the foal and hope they let us in… Or mommy comes and we flee.”

“We cannot unlock the door?” Rookwood said.

“No.” Luna replied. “Beyond this door lies the foal’s psyche. The safe place. The foal has retreated here, and will likely stay here, leaving the foal in a catatonic state. Perhaps for life. I need to get in there and fix what has been done.”

Rookwood pressed his horn against the door and pressed, focusing his will.

“I’ve tried this so many times.” Luna quipped.

Rookwood pushed harder, feeling a surge of anger, and more than just a little hatred for Nightmare Moon, who Rookwood knew was responsible for this, somehow.

Luna waited, yawning.

There was a click from the door.

“What the tartar sauce?” Luna looked annoyed. “That isn’t what I said. Silly rules.”

“Tartar sauce.” Rookwood said. “Hey, I tried to say tartar sauce.” He paused, and looked angry. “No swearing? Really? I can’t curse? What if I try to say fudge?” Rookwood paused, hearing his own answer and grumbling in annoyance.

“What you did was almost impossible and quite scary.” Luna said. “You forcibly opened somepony’s mind against their will. Do I need to explain to you how careful you need to be?”

Rookwood felt cold fear creeping through his flesh. “I give you my solemn word, I will be careful and will do my utmost to never do harm.”

Luna nodded, seemingly satisfied, and pushed open the door, revealing a foal’s bedroom. Toys were scattered on the floor. A bed was against the wall. Everything was oversized and giant.

Luna strode in. “Hewwo?” Luna cried, her voice now changed to the most adorable and non threatening voice Rookwood had ever heard. It radiated friendly warmth.

“What do you want?” A voice whimpered. “Who are you?” The voice came from under the bed.

“I am Woona and this is Wookwood. We awe fwiends.” Woona said. “Wookwood would not harm a fwy.” Woona reassured.

The foal was visible now, on the edge of light and darkness under the bed, her eyes wide and terrified.

“She hurt me!” The foal whimpered. “She did bad things. Touched me in bad places.”

“Who hurt you?” Woona asked, her voice now pained.

“SHE did.” The foal replied.

Woona sat back on her haunches, holding her forelegs open. She made a gesture. The foal darted from under the bed, straight to Woona, clinging to her and sobbing in her forelegs, Woona hugging her close. Wookwood went over and wrapped his forelegs around them both, drawing them in tight.

“It was awful!” The foal sobbed.

“I know.” Woona comforted.

Rookwood felt himself being drawn into Luna’s will. And suddenly, he knew. He saw. Terrible images flashed through his mind. Nightmare Moon, now in the body of a stallion, creeping into the foal’s room through the dreamscape, and pulling her into the room that Rookwood had once been in. He recognised the table. The tools. Everything.

He saw terrible things. Unspeakable things. The things that Nightmare Moon had done to the foal’s body. Perverse things. And the foal had been left mostly lifeless, locked into a catatonic state, the foal retreating to the inner recesses of its mind to escape the brutal dream of torture and rape.

“I will make this all better.” Woona said soothingly. “Hwelp me Wookwood.” Woona planted her lips gently on the foal’s head, and Wookwood felt himself doing the same. There was an odd feeling of suction. And pain. Horrible pain. Every horror the foal had experienced was now going into Woona and Wookwood. It was as though they were drawing out poison, and poisoning themselves in the process. Rookwood could feel blades slicing through his flesh. White hot bits of metal jammed into delicate places. And the forced penetration of something entirely too large to fit into a hole entirely too small, and the ripping and tearing of flesh and the sound that it made while it happened. His brain burned with a terrible fire.

“Better?” Woona asked.

“I was afraid but I can’t remember what scared me.” The filly said, leaning into Woona and Wookwood.

“A kwiss makes it all better.” Woona said, smiling.

Without warning, Rookwood felt himself hurled into a black void.

He awoke in the infirmary and puked all over the floor, spewing eggnog, mulled wine, and festive holiday cookies. He fell over into his own puke puddle, nearly drowning as he struggled to gasp and breathe. Something lifted him. He gagged and choked. Something whacked him on the back, hard, and the contents lodged in his throat flew out.

“BREATHE!” Celestia commanded.

Rookwood took a deep ragged breath and puked again, his mind flooded with terrible nightmarish images. Pain shot through his backside as the foal’s memories now merged with his own, and he could feel the painful penetration the foal had experienced. Rookwood screamed raggedly, his screaming cut off with more vomit, nearly causing him to choke again.

“DID I TELL YOU THAT YOU COULD STOP BREATHING?” Celestia demanded.

Rookwood took a few struggling gasps, hanging in midair, and then began to scream again, his backside on fire with what felt like a burning iron rod being jammed up his plothole.

He felt himself being pulled into a bed and being crushed, held down as he began to seize and thrash, his body experiencing violent tremors.

Legs pinned him. White ones. Stiff and unyielding as marble.

“Be calm. I have you. It is over.” Celestia whispered.

Rookwood tried to slow his ragged breathing. He heard Luna puking. He saw sad concerned faces looking at him. Guards. Cadance. Shining Armor. Twilight Sparkle. He felt Celestia rise up off of him, freeing him, and standing next to him. “Just keep breathing.” She soothed.

Rookwood leaned his head over the bed and barfed again, steaming vomit splattering upon the floor. He looked around the room, his head wobbling weakly, and noticed there were now five foals in the room. And more would probably come. All of them tortured and raped, violated, and he and Luna were going to have to go in and try to free them. He felt a sob escape his throat. His head sank down onto the bed, sour vomit still stuck inside his nostrils, and lamented the torments that awaited him. Nightmare Moon was torturing him and Luna both by proxy now.

Rookwood lay in a bed, recovering from exiting from the third foal this night. A total of eight foals in the room now. Part of him felt dead inside. His brain was numb. There was nothing left to vomit. Pain wracked his body. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take. But he would not shirk his duties, and would not leave Luna to face the darkness alone. His pucker burned and he now understood what it felt like to be gang raped, or at least a close approximation. He heard Luna weeping nearby in the dim room and a faint murmur from Twilight Sparkle who was trying to comfort her. The second time he had exited, Rookwood had shat himself explosively, and Rookwood burned with the embarrassing knowledge that it had been Celestia who had cleaned him up. She hadn’t said a word, other than to comfort him, but it was a strange and awkward moment.

Dawn soon approached. Rookwood felt weak. He wasn’t sure if he could handle another trip into the dreamscape. Luna’s sobbing only fanned the fires of hatred and rage that burned in his stomach.

Rookwood dry heaved and gagged, the pressure causing his plothole to burn with horrific heat.

Rookwood felt a chill enter the room, and he raised his head from the sudden flow of adrenaline that now coursed through his body. Fear prickled through his body. He heard Luna scream weakly, her voice hoarse and nearly gone.

Much to Rookwood’s surprise, he still had something left in him. He stumbled out of bed, his worry for Luna his primary motivation. He heard gasps from the guards. The room was now icy. He could see his breath. It was cold enough to hurt his skin.

He heard booming laughter.

Rookwood turned, and saw something in the corner. The guards had all backed away. It was something hard to see. It seemed half in and half out of shadow. Rookwood heard something like water dripping. The figure shrouded in shadow moved forward, and Rookwood heard little wet sucking sounds as it walked. He heard wet squelching.

It was a foal. But it was not a foal. Not any longer. In the dim light, Rookwood could see the foal had no skin. No eyelids. One eye was gone. Teeth were all visible, the lips and cheeks all gone. Bloody stumps wiggled along its sides. Blood dripped from its body.

A guard moved forward and took a swipe, his hoof passing through. The guard began to back away, now in terror, something the lunar pegasi were not known for.

The bloody skinned foal advanced on Rookwood.

“Necromancy!” Celestia hissed.

“I have a message.” The skinned foal spoke in Nightmare Moon’s voice.

It continued to advance on Rookwood, who stood his ground. He had his head raised defiantly, his nostrils flaring, standing between the foal and Luna.

“What do you want?” Rookwood demanded.

“I have what I want!” Nightmare Moon’s voice said, echoing through the room, maniacal laughter pealing from the walls.

“Do you now? Then why are you here?” Rookwood spat, his voice sounding as though he had been gargling with broken glass and gravel.

“I wanted to wish you a happy Hearth’s Warming!” The foal said, lunging forward and touching him with a hoof.

Rookwood felt reality tear away from him and he sank into blackness.

Rookwood was in the room, on the table, chained down. Only something was wrong. The table was too large. The room was too big. Rookwood slowly realised with dawning horror that the room was still the same, it was his body that had changed. He looked down at saw a dark purple pelt.

He heard a faint cry come from the foal’s lips. His own lips. Rookwood struggled against the chains, to no avail.

There were no words, no monologuing. Rookwood saw a scalpel hovering in the air. Nightmarish pain flooded his small body as a shallow incision was made along his barrel and stomach, along each leg, around each wing joint, and then with a few deft strokes, his eyelids were gone, leaving him unable to close his eyes and not look.

Rookwood could hear the tiny filly screaming the entire time. Something in his mind shut off, and the screams became dull and distant.

Along one leg, he felt a terrible pulling sensation, a ripping blinding pain, and Rookwood could feel the skin being slowly peeled away, almost teasingly, as though was this just good playtime fun. He could hear the squish of flesh rending and ripping, the connective tissues being torn as the skin was pulled away an inch at a time. Eventually, one leg was free of skin, left truly naked, the muscles and bits of fat now left visible.

He felt Nightmare Moon begin on another leg.

Rookwood feared for his sanity.

He desperately tried to think of Luna, to hold an image of her in his mind. He thought about his foal. He thought about Celestia. He thought about everything he could, trying not to think about the skin being peeled away from him, leaving him exposed and truly naked. Nightmare Moon was undressing him, and he had a terrible feeling of what awaited afterwards. This was foreplay. Dreadful foreplay.

He felt his face being pulled off, slowly, carefully, almost lovingly.

“I hunger” Nightmare Moon said into his now fleshless ear. “I long to taste the horrors that you have seen so far little one.”

Rookwood felt lips touching the remains of his fleshless face, burning with electric pain. They moved over him, planting little kisses, until they paused over his eye. He could see her glaring down. Then, her mouth opened, her lips closing around the exposed eye. There was a dreadful feeling of suction, and then with a “POP!” the eye was freed from the socket and was sucked into Nightmare Moon’s toothy maw. Rookwood felt Nightmare Moon bite down slowly upon the eyeball, and then the cord that connected the eye was violently ripped away as Nightmare Moon devoured her snack.

“The horrors you have borne witness to are delicious…” Nightmare Moon teased, her mouth opened and closed, the jellied remains of the eye visible as she spoke. Some of it dribbled down her chin, and she licked her lips in an oddly sensual manner. Her tongue whipped out and teased the empty socket, licking and probing. “I’ll have to play with that later.”

The skinning continued. It seemed to take forever.

Where then was no flesh left to peel off, the wings gone and ripped away, Nightmare Moon ended the foreplay and got down to business.

Rookwood could feel the first slick penetration, sliding between slippery skinless little plot cheeks. Something inside of him broke and he begin to drift away. He felt pressure. Pain. But it was distant now. Every orifice down below was violated, the foal's insides ripped and torn to shreds by the violent sex.

Rookwood was trapped in the bloody nearly lifeless remains. Nightmare Moon was using the worst sorts of magics to keep the foal alive now, somehow, Rookwood could sense that.

He heard Nightmare Moon’s terrible laughter. It was almost over now. He could barely feel anything at all. And then, he saw it, the massive nightmare phallus, dark, black, covered in blood and viscera, slick with feces and unmentionable horrors. He saw it, inches from his face.

Rookwood had time for one final breathless scream as the massive phallus was rammed into his eye socket and destroyed his tiny brain.

Rookwood couldn’t move. Before him was the bloody skinned foal, lying in a bloody heap on the floor. It was sobbing now.

Rookwood struggled, trying to will life back into his limbs.

All around him he saw faces frozen in horror. He heard somepony puke, and then another, until much of the room was puking and retching.

And the foal continued to sob.

Rookwood struggled to raise his head.

“I’m so cold.” The foal sobbed.

It was a tiny squeaky voice. Not Nightmare Moon’s voice.

The foal began to move, twitching slightly, wing stumps wiggling.

“I am so cold and scared. And everything hurts!”

Rookwood began to crawl forward, pulling himself ahead with his forehooves and kicking with his hindhooves.

Rookwood heard Celestia stumble and cry out, falling to the filthy floor, and then getting sick.

He crawled, scraping over the floor, until he was close enough to touch the skinless remains of what had once been a foal. He gently placed a hoof over it, wrapping a leg over it, and pulled it closer, hugging it closely to his chest.

The foal was solid for him, as something in his brain told him it would be.

It sobbed against him, obscene liquids dribbling from one eye socket, something white, pink, and grey all at once dribbling out of the gaping eye socket. Rookwood could feel cold sticky blood soaking his pelt. There was a sickening salty smell of sex.

“What is your name?” Rookwood croaked.

“Violet.” The foal said, taking a few times to get the words out. It spoke with out lips, more ghost than anything else.

“What do you remember?” Rookwood said.

“I dunno. I just woke up here a moment ago. My name is Violet. That is all I know.” The foal was quieting now. “It hurts all over. My backside hurts to sit on.”

“I know little one.” Rookwood said, his voice straining. He didn’t need to see the foal’s backside to know the gaping wounds he would find there. The foal was collapsed against his neck, breathing into his ear. Rookwood had no idea how or why the foal was drawing breath.

“I’m sleepy.” Violet said. “So sleepy. But I am afraid to go to sleep.”

“Why Violet?” Rookwood said, his voice full of grit.

“I dunno. Something out there. In the dark. It never stops laughing.” Violet sniffled and cuddled closer to Rookwood. Rookwood felt faint, trying to ignore the feelings of revulsion as the skinless remains of the foal cuddled against him. He could feel muscles twitching and blood oozing from severed blood vessels. Violent was cold and soggy against his pelt.

“You’re warm.” Violet said, her wavering voice filled with gratitude.

Rookwood heard weeping from around the room. He closed his eyes, trying not to think about what it was that he was about to do, and gently kissed Violet, his lips touching just behind the nub where her ears used to be. A sour taste lingered on his lips.

“I saw everything. I saw everything. Everything. EVERYTHING!” Twilight Sparkle sounded near hysterical. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sleep again. No no no. Never again. No more sleep! Never ever. No more sleep.”

Rookwood heard a body tumble to the floor, it sounded like it had landed in a puddle.

“I’m sleepy and I’m scared.” Violet whimpered. “And she sounds scared.”

“It’s going to be alright Violet” Rookwood promised.

Author's Notes:

Well...

Sleep well. Nighty night. Pleasant dreams. Nightmare Moon will feast upon your screams.

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