Princess Luna. Conqueror of Equestria. Destroyer of the Griffon armies during the founding of Equestria. The Nightbringer. She who dances in shadow. Guardian of night. Keeper of dreams. Destroyer of war pigs. The ravager.

Devourer of breakfasts.

Rookwood stared as Luna moved about her meal, sacking various dishes and destroying entire populations of foodstuffs. Celestia had grown used to such activity, but Rookwood could only stare in awe as he watched Luna devour a dozen scones in mere moments, belch, and then move on to an entire platter of cheese biscuits, which she inhaled.

Oddly enough, Rookwood actually enjoyed the sensation of being hungry again.

“I have such fond memories of us all around this table,” Celestia confessed.

Luna belched, a foghorn blast of obscenity and bad manners, and then went to work on a whole spinach and cheese quiche, dispatching it without mercy. No quarter was drawn from the breakfast pie, Luna wrecked it whole.

Violet stared at Luna, a look of disbelief upon her face. “Help me Rookwood,” she asked, not once taking her eye off of Luna.

Rookwood extended one shadowy tendril and pulled Violet’s bowl of fruit into shadow, allowing the undead foal to eat and enjoy something usually reserved for the living. She devoured it, not out of hunger, she was beyond that, but because the sweet taste brought her comfort.

“It almost feels like we are a family now,” Celestia observed. “I have grown very attached to Violet,” she added in a small quiet voice.

“I know,” Rookwood acknowledged. “I think we all love her.”

Violet beamed, causing her face to emit a wet sounding crinkle. It was difficult to tell that she was undead now. She was loved so much that she was practically fully restored. She was mostly durable, didn’t tear or fall apart often, and rarely lost feathers anymore.

“I can’t wait to be a big sister,” Violet announced, still eyeing Luna. “But I worry my little sister is going to come out fat.”

Luna snorted at the foal’s words, sucked down the last bite of quiche, and moved on to a tray of apple fritters. She ate each apple fritter whole and the pile upon the tray began to dwindle at an alarming rate.

Celestia laughed at the foal’s words, a broad warm smile upon her face.

“The sun draws ever closer,” Rookwood announced, sounding worried.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, how do you do your job in the sun?” Celestia questioned.

“I exist in the in dead realms,” Rookwood replied, his eyes narrowed. “A realm just next door to this one. Sort of like the dream realm. The sun doesn't shine there. The dead depart their bodies, slip into the dead realm, and then I move about to collect them. I am doing it now, even as we speak. There is a little zebra foal wondering where his mother is.”

“Tragic,” Celestia murmured.

“I have a knack for making the tears go away,” Rookwood said in humble tones. “Each soul I draw gives me strength. And now that my watch is that of the very young, foals and cubs and hatchlings of the sapient species, I will have an endless source from which to draw strength. Hades is trusting me to draw a lot of power very quickly, before I have had a chance to have proven myself.”

“But you have proven yourself Rookwood,” Celestia refuted. “Look what you have done for Luna. For Violet. Look how you gave so willingly of yourself.”

“What I did for Luna was selfish. I wanted her entirely for myself. I was not willing to share her any longer,” Rookwood argued.

“I like your selfishness,” Luna mumbled around a mouthful of apple fritter. “But in bed you are such a giver.”

“Still being selfish. I enjoy teasing you far too much,” Rookwood retorted with a snort, turning to watch his mate devour more food.

“Not all selfishness is bad if it serves others. A wise pony that seeks power to rule is not a bad pony if he or she is a benevolent ruler who is good to his or her subjects. A good doctor that wants to make a name for themselves cannot be faulted for their selfishness if they cure the sick and bring wellness to the infirm,” Celestia reasoned.

“Fair point,” Rookwood said, tucking into a bowl of bread pudding dusted with cinnamon and dotted with raisins. “But watch my benevolence boil away if something, anything harms one hair on her body. All three of us sit at this table as equals, each of us peak prime immortals with the power to completely annihilate life on a scale that few can comprehend or imagine. All I need to begin my rampage of destruction is one dead body, and I can make those easily enough. Soon after, everything that falls to my anger will rise up to slay their former comrades, and my enemies will soon drown under a flood of the dead.”

Celestia swallowed loudly, looking suddenly ill. She knew this already, but to hear Rookwood say it so casually was another issue altogether. Necromancy was Celestia’s most feared and hated enemy, and here it was, sitting with her at the breakfast table.

“So romantic!” Luna blurted as lifted a pitcher of cranberry juice. “Talk conquest to me Rookwood,” she added, before beginning to guzzle down the red liquid.

“I think you are making auntie uncomfortable,” Violet stated. “Stop.”

“I am fine,” Celestia reassured the foal. “I know what Rookwood is capable of. But I trust him completely and totally. He is a good pony.”

“He is a pony that will do anything it takes to stay with Luna,” Violet retorted. “Even bad things. I am sure he would try good things first, but I know Rookwood’s heart because we share the same essence.”

“Common morality does not apply to we immortals,” Luna interjected, setting down her pitcher.

“Luna!” Celestia scolded.

“We might have to kill hundreds to save thousands upon thousands. We have that right. We have the wisdom centuries to back our decisions, not the morality of a brief moment,” Luna insisted. “And Rookwood has already endured enough suffering for a hundred lives. I doubt he would make such a decision lightly and once such a decision is made, he would end such conflict swiftly, restore order, fix the balance, and then allow the living mortals left alive much needed time to recover and fix their short lives into a misery of their own choosing.”

“LUNA!” Celestia snapped.

“Tell me my words are not true! Have you not done much the same?” Luna argued.

“I have done things I am not proud of,” Celestia admitted. “But they had to be done for the greater good.”

“You used the sun to burn away an empire,” Luna accused. “You killed hundreds of thousands and because of that untold millions have since lived. I rest my case. We as immortals cannot be held to common morality. We ARE gods. We can only be judged by history. And do tell, who is one of the most beloved names in history?”

“I sometimes wonder if I deserve it,” Celestia confessed, her voice small and timid.

“Hades made me swear an oath that I would summon every dark power in Tartarus to keep both of you safe,” Rookwood announced. “And I did so. The world approaches troubling times once again. Seems that it happens every thousand years or so. The major powers have a go at one another and power shifts and redistributes.”

“Rookwood, remember one thing. Immortal does not mean invulnerable,” Celestia warned. “It is awful what we can live though.”

“I know. Hades has warned me of this repeatedly,” Rookwood admitted.

“Speaking of not being invulnerable, enduring this pregnancy is awful,” Luna announced. “I am horny, but too sensitive to do anything, I am always hungry, the light is beginning to bother me more and more, I am getting fat and pudgy all over my beautiful slender body, I begin to look more and more like my sister-”

“HEY!” Celestia interrupted.

Luna giggled, covering her mouth with her fetlock. Violet also began to giggle, making little snorts as she did so.

“I must confess, I like your new jiggly places. There is more of you to squeeze,” Rookwood admitted.

“Watch your tongue, do not speak of my jiggly places,” Luna deadpanned.

“Better get used to those jiggly places, I intend to keep you fat with foal every chance I get.” Rookwood replied in a monotone, matching Luna wit for wit.

“Is that so?” Luna snarked.

“Yeah, and you’ll like it,” Rookwood retorted.

Luna beamed, looking quite pleased, and she grabbed her pitcher of cranberry juice. “I will hold you to your words, knave,” she returned, and then began to guzzle the cranberry juice once again.

“You two are something else,” Celestia commented, looking at her sister and her brother in law.

“Something else other than jiggly?” Rookwood questioned.

“Rookwood, you play a dangerous game,” Celestia warned.

“I know,” replied Rookwood. “We immortals must have our hobbies.”

“I need a hobby,” Violet said, sighing heavily.

“Luna once dropped a meteor upon her own body just to discover what it felt like. Took her weeks to recover. She tells me she was bored at the time and it seemed like such an educational idea,” Celestia said.

“It was educational,” Luna grunted, setting down the empty pitcher. “And it was really fascinating to watch it make entry into the atmosphere and draw closer and closer. As it struck me, I was really quite taken by its beauty.”

“So is that what we do as immortals? Endure our morbid fantasies?” Rookwood queried, exchanging a glance with the two sisters.

“Celestia once engaged two dragons in combat in fit of bravado. Turns out, dragons can burn. But so can my sister,” Luna quipped.

“Those dragons invaded Equestria and had to be stopped,” Celestia protested. “It wasn’t bravado!”

“You allowed yourself to be swallowed by one,” Luna argued.

“Well, they are soft on the inside,” Celestia retorted.

“That is insane,” Rookwood said.

“You have no room to talk Rookwood!” Celestia protested. “You drew Nightmare Moon inside of you and then tossed yourself into the sun in a mortal body!”

“That stung a little,” Rookwood confessed. “I got better.”

“You endured touching me,” Violet added.

“And drew out my pain,” Luna mentioned.

“So you will probably have one of those “hey, why not, I am immortal” moments yourself,” Celestia insisted.

Rookwood sighed. “You are probably right.”

“Want to find out what it feels like to have a celestial body slam into you?” Luna said suggestively.

“Bah, I’ve been to bed with you already,” Rookwood replied.

Luna fumed silently, thwarted completely by Rookwood’s wit, while her sister burst into laughter. Celestia guffawed for a several minutes, unable to contain herself. Violet’s mouth hung open in an ‘O’ of shock.

“The next thousand years are going to be interesting.” Rookwood announced, watching Luna give him the stink eye. “She is going to make my introduction to immortality interesting.”

“Oh, you have no idea. Luna hates being shown up,” Celestia quipped. “My sun is brighter than her moon, and look what that caused.”

“Sister!” Luna protested .

“A thousand years of this would be nice,” Rookwood confessed outloud. “Sitting around this table. Laughing. Will this table even survive a thousand years?”

“It would make these long years bearable, “ Celestia agreed. “We would need a new table eventually.”

“And to share this table with foals, even though we know they will pass away in the blink of an eye would be pleasant,” Luna added.

“Yes it would,” replied Celestia.

“I guess I’ll always be here,” Violet said. “Always small. Always little. I’ll never get to grow up, never get to be a mother, I’ll never change.”

“I am sorry Violet,” Rookwood apologised.

“Don’t be sorry. I am a lucky foal. I don’t have to spend all of this time alone. I have you, I have Luna, and I have Celestia now. I am happy enough,” Violet replied, snuffling slightly.

“Spoiling you for the next thousand years sounds like a good time,” Celestia announced.

“The sun draws near. I can feel the itch. Violet, are you ready to depart?” Rookwood asked.

“I want to give Celestia and Luna a kiss before I go,” Violet said, worry in her voice.

Celestia leaned down and planted a kiss on Violet’s lips, no longer bothered by the fact that the foal was an undead abomination. It wasn’t her fault. Luna lifted the foal in her magic, lifted her over the table, cradled her in her forelegs, and then planted a kiss right where her sister had placed one just a moment before, and then squeezed Violet close. For a brief moment, Violet almost looked alive again.

“I’ll be taking one of those to go as well,” Rookwood demanded, feeling the alarm for the coming sun all over his skin. “Hopefully, tomorrow, we can do this again.”

Author's Notes:

Another chapter. Yay!

I told you updates would be more regular.

Immortality is the theme of this chapter. A rough subject to try and imagine if you are mortal. Like I am.