Dead weight. The term wandered through Luna’s mind as she remained tightly ensconced within her sheets. Her body felt like lead and her mind drifted sluggishly. Her limbs didn’t react at all to her half-willed instructions.

The music haunted her, like always. If she hadn’t known better, she’d have sworn Octavia was in the room, playing leisurely on her cello. A delightful image, one that pierced Luna’s heart over and over again. Why couldn’t she get the mare’s face out of her head? Why did that music have to slip through her ears no matter how hard she struggled to cover them?

Not tonight, however. Tonight, Luna kept still, unable and unwilling to move from her bed, letting the beautiful music torture her.

She had no way to know how much time had passed. Perhaps she’d drifted back to sleep. Perhaps not. That little voice in the back of her mind said she should at least try to get up. She hated that voice. Even so, she pushed her head through the covers – an act that required no small amount of effort – and let her muzzle poke out. A few quick sniffs rewarded her with the savory scent of breakfast in the next room.

If breakfast had already been prepared, then it was most certainly time to get up. She lingered anyway. Maybe she should let Celestia raise the moon again. Goddess knew Luna didn’t deserve to.

No, it was her duty, and she’d never shirked her duties before. She had no intention of starting now.

“Get up.”

Her body remained limp. She scowled.

“Get up now.”

Her leg twitched, but couldn’t rise against the overwhelming weight of itself.

She let out a small moan. “Don’t be so pathetic, Luna. Get. Up.”

That at least gave her enough energy to sit up properly, the covers falling off her shoulders with a quiet fwoomph. The hardest part of her morning done, she spent the next minute or so working up the courage to climb off the bed. Her entire body felt heavy, her wings dragging along the carpeted floor. In a way, it felt like any other evening; getting out of bed had always been the worst part of her night. This, however, was profoundly different from everything she was used to. Even grumbling and grouchy, she always at least had some energy.

Breakfast was the usual spread, with assorted fruits and vegetables, a half-loaf of rye bread with a plate of butter, a small bowl of long-grain rice and a glass of blueberry juice. She took the rice first, but even one of her favorite foods felt like dirt in her mouth. The juice seemed tasteless, the fruit dry and the bread too soft. She knew the details were all in her head and that any other pony would be relishing the fine morning meal, even if it wasn’t as flashy and creative as Celestia’s preferred dishes.

She ate in silence, neither her energy nor her mood rising. She didn’t bother to raise the curtains; at the moment the sunlight felt more like an unwholesome invader than anything and she wanted nothing to do with it. About halfway through the meal, she finally noticed an addition to her table.

Luna studied the scroll, wondering if it might be from her sister. They’d not spoken to one another very much in the past couple of days, though Luna had only herself to blame for it. Celestia wanted to talk, had tried on several occasions. Luna brushed her off every time; just being in her sister’s presence made her heart throb. If only she could be confident of why.

After some consideration, Luna came to the conclusion that this was not a message from her sister. The scroll had been tied in a red ribbon with an embroidered ‘L’ for its seal. She’d seen enough letters appear before Celestia to know exactly who had sent this one. For the first time since… Octavia… Luna felt her malaise fade in the face of curiosity.

Luna raised the scroll in her magic, considering it with a peering gaze. Perhaps this hadn’t been written by her sister, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have a hoof in it. Should she brace herself? She rolled her eyes at her own paranoia and, before doubt could forestall her once more, pulled off the ribbon and unrolled the letter.

Dear Princess Luna,

I’d like to ask “how are you,” but I have a pretty good idea. I know this might be considered very forward of me. I ask your forgiveness in advance. It’s not like me to send letters out of the blue like this, but when I heard of your circumstance I felt compelled to act. I like to think that the events of Nightmare Night have made us friends, and this gives me hope that you’ll listen to what I have to say.

Did Celestia ever relate you what I was like growing up in the palace? I imagine she had an embarrassing story or two to tell. The important thing is that I was… well, I won’t sugarcoat it: I was a recluse. I spent every waking moment studying, reading and experimenting. I had no friends to speak of, only acquaintances. I never saw the value. I even thought everypony else felt the same way about me. Social interaction was a waste of valuable time.

The night after the Garden Party, I decided to explore the castle like I used to as a foal. I only wanted to enjoy the nostalgia. As I did so, I ran into Feather Duster. Maybe you know her, maybe not, but when I was little she was responsible for keeping my place tidy. Another one of those acquaintances, a pony I was obligated to know because she had to come to my rooms every day.

She cried when she saw me. I thought something was wrong, but then I learned that her tears were of pride. Feather Duster had watched me grow from a foal to a mare. She even remembered my birthday. Until then, it had never dawned upon me how she might see me. All that time, I’d looked upon her as another face getting in the way of my work, when she saw me as so much more.

She brought me to see a few others, and I was surprised at how much I remembered. Old Dry Wit, who used to make me laugh with his namesake; the twins Lollipop and Popsicle, who always slipped an extra cookie into my lunches when they thought Celestia wasn’t paying attention; Wrinkled Muzzle, who taught me all about poise and grace despite looking like a hippo on stilts. They were all so happy to see me, and I them.

That day, I realized that even before I understood friendship, I had friends. Even though I kept hidden amongst my musty old tomes, the blackboards and the textbooks, ponies still saw me as something more that a stand-offish egghead. The way they welcomed me back… I’m getting teary-eyed just thinking about it.

It was a beautiful lesson.

One benefit to having friends working in the palace is that you learn a bit about what’s going on there. Now I hear that you’re hiding in your room all night, refusing to talk to even your sister. I look back at how hard you worked during Nightmare Night to gain everypony’s affection and I have to believe that something has gone horribly wrong. I can only think of one thing.

Maybe I’m reading too deeply into things, or maybe I’m not digging deep enough. I wouldn’t presume to try. Even so, if this is what I think it is, then I implore you, Princess:

Don’t give up on friendship.

Don’t give up on Octavia.

I understand that even when we think we’re alone – and especially when we strive to be so – our friends are there for us. Mine watched and waited for me to come out of my shell. I’m sure yours are just as eager to embrace you. Remember Dinky and Ditzy, Pinkie and Applejack, the entire town of Ponyville. We’re all rooting for you, Princess.

I’m sure Octavia is as well.

Your friend,

Twilight Sparkle

It took a moment for Luna to realize she bore a smile. A sad smile, but a smile nonetheless. “Dear sister, this may be the best apprentice you’ve ever had.”

Luna promptly summoned a scroll of her own, a quill and inkpot floating over from one of the nearby tables. She tapped the sharp point of the quill on her tongue a couple times as she considered her response.

Dear Twilight Sparkle,

The concern you’ve shown me is touching. Your letter has been well-received, and came at a most ideal time. I know that my reclusiveness must be worrisome, but I beg you not to let my affairs disturb you.

She paused, staring at the words. Her smile faded.

I am

Am what? Luna chewed the quill. She felt strangely out of breath. How much dare she say?

I am merely feeling under the weather, but can assure you that it is only a temporary issue. Even alicorn princesses have their bad nights.

It sounded like a weak dodge, even to her. She grimaced and considered scrapping the letter for something else. No, best to keep going. Maybe… a little bit of truth?

I admit, there is a bit of strain between Octavia and myself, but that has always been the case.

Luna smirked; well, that at least was the unbridled truth. Now to finish up.

I would like to write a longer response, but I need to attend to my duties. Perhaps in the morning I will send you something longer, something more appropriate to the gift you have offered me. Please reassure your assistant that I will wait until as late as possible to do so, so that I don’t awaken him in the night.

Yours,

Princess Luna

There, a short little something to ease Twilight’s worries.

Luna blinked. She reread the letter. A certain dream came to mind.

We only failed because they caught us off guard. Oh yes… this time we are aware of what awaits us. Tearing them apart will be much easier now.

She should say something. Twilight and her friends… they needed to be ready. Just in case. They deserved a proper warning, didn’t they?

No… that was like admitting defeat.

But defeat was a definite possibility, wasn’t it?

Luna groaned and rubbed her temple. If only she could be more confident, but that in itself came with substantial risk. Twilight had to be warned. Then again, doing so might cause her to go into one of her famous panic attacks. How to approach this?

Celestia. She knew Twilight best, she would know what to—

With a snarl, Luna dropped the letter and jerked away from the table. Go to Celestia? Be the ignorant, helpless little sister expected of her? She didn’t need Celestia.

Luna shouted and leapt to her hooves. Her wings flared and she shook her head violently. “Stop. Thinking. These. Thoughts!” She stomped with every word, forcing down the ice in her heart. “Celestia knows the risks. Her advice will be useful. Get over this petty rivalry, Luna, and do what you have to do!”

That felt good. Luna straightened up and shook her anxiety away, wings ruffling as if to be free of water. She had regained her calm exterior and, after sucking down a deep breath, had extended that manner to her mental state. Yes, she could do this. She passed through her bedroom and to the balcony, opening the curtains wide. The fading light of day pierced her eyes, but she faced it with firm conviction.

The sun was not her enemy.

Wings spread, she jumped off the balcony at a canter and sailed into the evening sky. She circled the castle, slowly rising, taking in the warmth of the sunlight. She accepted it, embraced it. Whenever she fell under the shadows of the castle, Luna would beat her wings for more speed, determined not to hide. She could be proud in the garish light of day. No more cowering.

When she reached the balcony of the tallest tower, Celestia was waiting for her, but faced the doorway. Luna landed gracefully behind her sister, head held high and expression firm. “Celestia.”

Her sister concealed her surprise well enough, but she still kept her head low and her ears flat. She looked to Luna as if afraid she might be struck. “Sister. You’re looking… sure of yourself today.”

“Of course.” Luna stared down her muzzle. “Should I not be?”

“That’s not what I—” Celestia clamped her jaw shut and averted her gaze. “Are you still upset with me, Luna?”

Luna studied her sister. She’d never seen Celestia look so… uncertain. She didn’t like it, and her icy exterior began to melt; the tension left her body and she let out a small sigh. “I’m getting over it, dear sister. Steadily.”

Celestia’s ears perked and a small, hopeful smile touched her lips. “I am glad to hear it, Luna. I’m—”

Luna made a slicing motion with her hoof. “Please, Celestia, no more apologies. I know you meant well. All I ask is that, next time, you come to discuss such things with me rather than making the decision for me.”

“I can do that.” Celestia’s smile grew, and she rose up to her full height at last. She approached, but stopped herself short and pulled back, averting her gaze.

With a smile of her own, Luna closed the gap and held her sister close, head resting on Celestia’s withers. “I’m sorry I’m so difficult.”

Celestia returned the hug, her grip tight. “I thought you said no more apologies?”

“Do as I say, not as I do.” Luna chuckled and pulled back. “That used to be one of your favorite lines.”

“I remember.” Celestia smirked. “It's a great way to get away with things.”

They shared a smile, but then Luna gestured to the horizon. “Come, we’ll be late.”

They stood side by side, Celestia’s horn shimmering in the lingering light. As the sun descended, Luna commanded the moon, and soon the two orbs passed one another by. Luna frowned at the display; something wasn’t right. It was a regular moonrise, a perfectly normal sunset. She’d performed her part like always, yet the whole event felt… out of sync.

As soon as the moon reached its place, Luna glanced at Celestia. Her sister stared at the sky, shoulders sagging and a frown on her face. She saw it, too.

Celestia caught Luna’s eyes and quickly pulled up one of her most comforting smiles. “We can’t perform well every time, I suppose.”

She smiled, chuckled and brushed the situation off, but her eyes didn’t leave Luna’s. Something lingered within them. It spoke to Luna, whispered doubts into her ear. They’d made no mistakes casting the spells.

“Luna?”

Luna shook off the dark thoughts and looked up at the moon. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Maybe the sunrise will be better. Yes, I’m sure of it!”

And why would the sunrise be better, Celestia? Because it meant you’d be getting rid of the moon?

No! Luna shoved the thought down as quickly as it came. She turned to Celestia. “Twilight sent me a letter sometime while I slept.”

She watched Celestia carefully. The slightly widened eyes, the small parting of the lips, the shift in weight from one foreleg to the other. “Oh?”

Yes, her surprise was genuine. A wave of relief rolled over Luna at this quiet confirmation: Twilight had acted on her own. She bowed her head slightly, letting her anxiety come out. “Yes, she found out about my recent… isolation… and wanted to comfort me.”

Celestia beamed. “Oh, Twilight, you’re such a good pony. She so often makes me proud.”

“You chose well.” Luna scuffed the floor. “Celestia… I think I should warn her.”

The smile dropped, and Luna winced at her sister’s short intake of breath. She kept her eyes on her hooves, keeping perfectly still and wishing she could take the words back.

“Luna… do you think the risk is that great?”

She made no attempt to answer. How does one confirm the worst? So she just stared at the floor and waited. Eventually, she realized she was holding her breath and let it out with as quiet a gasp as she could muster.

“No.” Celestia came forward, her wings wrapping about her little sister. “It won’t happen. I believe in you, Luna. You’re stronger than it is.”

Luna didn’t return the embrace, but she did lean into Celestia’s warmth. “I don’t know that I am.”

“You are.” Celestia nuzzled her shoulder. “We don’t need to warn Twilight, because we won’t need the Elements. You’re going to beat this thing, Luna, I know it.”

“That’s irresponsible.”

“That’s trust.”

Luna could think of nothing to say to that, so she just rested against her sister. Celestia’s warmth filled her, and she drifted on a quiet comfort she’d denied herself for so long. The temptation to lose herself within Celestia’s love nearly overwhelmed. Grudgingly, she pulled away.

Still, she couldn’t meet her sister’s eye. “Thank you, dear sister.”

“Do not thank me, Lulu.” Celestia used her pinions to nudge Luna’s chin up, revealing her pleasant smile. “We are sisters. We need to be there for one another.”

But you weren’t there for us.

The effort required to maintain a straight face and smile was almost painful, but Luna pulled it off. “I thank you, anyway.”

Celestia huffed and rolled her eyes, though her smile didn’t fade. “Well, if you’re going to be stubborn about it: you’re welcome.” She stepped back, her smile slipping to something more subdued. “Are you going on your Nightmare Patrols tonight?”

“Yes.” Luna raised her head high and turned her gaze to the moon. “I think I’m up to it.”

Liar.

“Very well, but please, Luna, don’t overexert yourself again.”

“I promise.” Luna offered Celestia another smile. “I won’t let it tempt me like that again.”

“Good.” Celestia considered her, then glanced to the city below. Her smile gradually disappeared. “Sister, about…”

Luna cocked her head, noting the uncertainty in Celestia’s countenance. “About?”

“No, it’s nothing.” Celestia regained her smile. It was a good one; Luna almost missed the effort put into it. “Good luck, Luna. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Watching her go, Luna managed to hold her smile until her sister was out of sight.

She doesn’t trust us.

Luna sniffed her derision and launched from the balcony, flying towards the moon with slow, steady wingbeats.

She interprets our fallout with Octavia—

“Why have you returned?”

We told us before, Nightmare: we never left. We thought we were looking forward to seeing us again.

Luna sneered. “It was a moment of weakness, no more.”

It was fun to watch, we must admit. The way we squirmed, knowing that we are just as spiteful of our sister as—

“You have already outlasted your welcome.”

For a time, there was silence. Perhaps the abomination had heeded her for a change. Relaxing, she began to focus on the dreamweaving magic.

She’ll be sleeping soon.

Luna’s wings froze. She tumbled through the air for a horrifying moment, her body passing into a thick cloud. She recovered quickly, grinding her teeth and glaring at nothing in particular. “If you even consider invading my sister’s dreams, I’ll—”

What? What are we going to do, Nightmare? Invade our sister’s privacy? Disobey the one order she refuses to budge on?

She hesitated. “It’s… It’s a request, not an order.”

When it comes to Celestia, there are no requests.

Luna jerked about, as if expecting to find the monster just behind her. Her horn flashed as her head whipped about. “I will hunt you down, fiend. If you come anywhere near my sister, I swear it will be the last thing you ever do.”

In that case, maybe we’d prefer to go after Octavia?

“No!” Sparks erupted from Luna’s horn, illuminating the cloud in blue light and leering shadows. “You cannot comprehend the brutality I am prepared to deliver upon you if you touch her!”

Well then, Celestia it is.

“Nightmare!” Luna landed upon a ledge of cloud and cast her eyes about, steam blowing from her nostrils. “This is between you and me. You will leave them both out of this!”

She waited, body heaving and horn shimmering in the dark. The world remained silent. She stomped. “Speak to me, you wretch.”

Nothing. Only the cool wind and her own heavy breathing.

A chill ran down Luna’s spine. She leapt from the cloud, the dreamweaving spell coming to her rapidly. The lines of yellows and blues and reds filled the sky all around her as she dove through the fog. When she finally burst free, she shifted to a hover and turned for Canterlot Castle.

Her sister’s dreamline was thin and nearly transparent. Luna released a long, slow breath and hung her head: the pony wasn’t even dreaming. Good, her worries were unfounded. Perhaps the monster had taken her threats seriously? It would be a first.

Just as Luna prepared to turn away, however, Celestia’s dreamline began to change. She turned back with a jerk and watched, eyes widening as the line became a column, pulsing and red and shaking. It grew brighter, extending into the dark sky like a hideous blade. It pierced the moon and Luna’s heart in equal measure.

Her words were a mere whisper. “No. Please, no.”

She received no response.

The first thing Octavia noted was the pounding in her head. She could feel her pulse, and she moaned from the torture. A sharp pain ran down her back as she tried to sit up. Cringing, she pressed her hooves to the table and forced her back to straighten, the action accompanied by a series of resounding pops and cracks. Something was stuck to her face; peeling it away revealed a crumpled page of sheet music. She tried to make sense of the notes, but even if they weren’t smeared, she was somehow seeing double.

The pounding grew louder. Was that voices in her mind? She rubbed her forehead until the throbbing went down.

Sheet music covered the table in a thick blanket. The entire kitchen shared this fate. Empty inkpots sat where they’d been discarded, but there was a box by the table that had been stocked with full ones. Octavia peered inside the box; it was half-full. Or… a third? The inkpots wouldn’t stop shifting around.

The pounding rose again. Octavia fought to ignore it. She reached for one of the inkpots, but it slipped from her hooves. Lips turned in a frown, she tried again, and again. On the fourth try she had it, and slowly deposited it to the table.

“Have to finish,” she muttered. “Have to… have to finish.”

Octavia cringed, but this time she realized that the pounding wasn’t just in her head. Nor were the voices. She sat up, swaying as her head turned about to take in the kitchen. Where was that racket coming from?

And voices. Somepony was… calling for her?

The door. Somepony was knocking on her door. Maybe they’d go away. She didn’t have time for visitors, didn’t want visitors. She needed to write, to work. Luna needed this song. She didn’t know it yet, but Octavia did. She needed this song.

She reached for the quill, but the pounding came again, shooting fire through her cranium. Octavia groaned and turned for the door. Curse her pathetic body; with more energy she might have screamed at them to go away. She stumbled, shoulder hitting the wall, and she nearly started crying.

No, no tears. No time for tears.

No time to indulge the pain in her chest.

No time for visitors.

No time.

Luna needed…

Write. Octavia needed to write. Why was she in her hallway?

“Octavia!”

The pounding on the door came loud and hard and vicious. Octavia covered her head and fought down tears. Her trembling hoof reached for the doorknob. She pulled; the door didn’t open. Why didn’t it…

Oh, locked, right. She fumbled with the deadbolt. Why was it so hard to turn? At last it came loose, and she pulled on the knob.

“Octavia!”

She dropped back from the door and covered her head with trembling legs. “N-not so loud.” Why was her voice so quiet?

“She’s here, guys! Somepony grab Symphony and let her know.”

“Be quiet.” Octavia sat, but the world went sideways and she nearly collapsed trying to adjust. “Be quiet.”

“Octy? Sweet mother of Celestia, what happened to you?”

At last the throbbing in her skull receded enough that Octavia could see past the pain. She looked up to find Vinyl standing before her, Beauty and Parish watching with wide eyes from the hallway. “What are you doing here?” The words came out a lot rougher than she’d intended.

Parish pressed behind Vinyl in the small space. “That’s for us to ask!” At her cringe, he lowered his voice. “We’ve been worried sick about you.”

“I’m fine,” Octavia grumbled. “Go away.”

“Not a chance.” Vinyl held Octavia’s face with her hooves, ignoring the feeble attempts to push her away. “Octy, you’re a mess.”

“I’m okay.” Octavia struggled to pull back, pressing her hooves to Vinyl’s chest. “I need to… leave me alone. Let me go. I need to write!”

She escaped Vinyl’s hold with a jerk, but the world began to spin and she lost her hoofing. Octavia crashed to the floor on her side, shouting as an inferno raged inside her head. The world went white; she curled into a ball and sobbed, clutching at her skull. Why did it hurt? It shouldn’t hurt. Write. She should be writing. It hurt so much!

Ponies were talking. She tried to ignore them. Ignore the pain in her heart. Write. Write for Luna. She had to—

“—kay, Octavia. You’re okay.”

The white faded, and she looked up. Beauty. What was Beauty doing here? “What?”

Beauty’s chin trembled as she nudged Octavia’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

Octavia wanted to resist, but she felt somepony helping her up regardless. Her hooves refused to obey her, but eventually she had at least managed to stand. She found Parish pressed against her other side, concern on his face. “Don’t worry, we’ve got you.”

“Got me?” She shook her head, very slowly. “Need to write. F-for Luna. Can’t stop.”

They guided her along, but came to an abrupt stop at her kitchen. Octavia saw the sheet music, the inkpot, Luna’s face. “H-have to…” She tried to walk, but Parish and Beauty’s bodies were pressed too tightly around her. “Let me go. I have to write. Have to… Have to…”

“It’s okay, Octy.” Vinyl’s voice. What was Vinyl doing here? Where was she? “You can write after you get some rest.”

“No. No rest. No time.” Octavia squirmed, eyes set on the inkpot. No, inkpots. When had she put three of them there? “H-have to finish.” Why was her face wet?

Beauty rested a leg over her withers. “You can finish later, Octavia.”

“No!” Octavia tried to lock her legs, but they buckled in short order. Her head turned to follow the inkpots… inkpot? “Please, you can’t. It’s the only way. Luna n-needs—”

“It’s going to be okay, Octavia.” Parish tugged on her leg. Why couldn’t she pull away from him? “You’ll still finish the song. I promise.”

She could do nothing to stop them. The world was spinning again, and she would have fallen if not for their presence. Their… who? Beauty and Parish. Oh, they were… here? They set her in a sitting position on the bed, scattering sheet music everywhere in the process. She stared at them through heavy eyelids. “What are… you doing here?”

Beauty kept a hoof on Octavia’s shoulder to keep her from falling. She offered a smile. “You didn’t come to the ball last night. The only way that would happen is if you’re in trouble.”

“Ball?” Octavia leaned heavily against Beauty’ leg until Parish straightened her from the opposite side. She tried to look at him, but instead found herself gazing at his chest. Chests? There were three Parishes, now? “What ball?”

“The charity ball?” Parish was a lone pony once more. He held her at leg’s length, wary of which way she’d sway next. “You know, the one put on by Tiger Lily?”

Octavia’s head craned back as she tried to think. Charity ball? Tiger Lily? She gazed at her ceiling, lips working soundlessly as she swayed. “But that’s not until Saturday.”

Symphony appeared before her – when did she get here? – with a moist towel. “It’s Sunday morning, Octy. Now hold still and let me get that ink off your cheek.”

Ink? Ball? Sunday? Octavia closed her eyes and cringed as the towel was rubbed against her face. “B-but that can’t be. It’s… It’s Friday. Isn’t it?”

When the rubbing stopped, she opened her eyes to find the three of them sharing uncertain looks. “Octavia,” Beauty said, “when was the last time you slept?”

“Slept?” Octavia gazed at her for a time, letting the question sink in. Once the meaning finally hit, her entire body began to shake. Her chest tightened, her throat constricted. “Sh-she… she won’t come. Luna won’t come.” Tears welled in her eyes even as the pain in her head came back in full force.

She pressed her hooves to her face and sobbed. “Why won’t she come?! It hurts. It hurts. It hurts! Please come back. P-please.”

“H-hey, it’s okay.” Parish’s words seemed to echo through her skull. His hold tightened.

“It’s not okay. Luna… Luna needs me. The song, I… I-I need to finish.” Octavia started to stand, but was quickly pushed back to a sitting position by the others.

Vinyl appeared in the doorway, levitating a bowl before her. “What you need is food and sleep. C’mon, I’ve got some soup for ya.”

Octavia rubbed the moisture from her cheeks and sniffled. She felt at her stomach, which did seem taught. When was the last time she ate? She couldn’t remember. Should she be hungry? “I g-guess I could use something to eat.” She reached for the bowl, but her hooves were tugged down by Beauty and Parish. “I can feed myself,” she grumbled.

They persisted, however, and at last Octavia permitted herself to be spoon fed – literally, the utensil levitating before her in Vinyl’s magic. By the third mouthful, her stomach finally reacted, and she became horribly aware of how hungry she really was. Once understanding hit her, she made no attempt to fight or argue anymore. Why had she let herself go so long without food?

How long had she gone on without food? They said it was Sunday morning. What was the last time she could readily recall? After waking up from the dream, everything had passed in a blur. That was… Thursday night. Goddess, had she not eaten in three days?

The soup was gone before she knew it. “Th-thank you, Vinyl,” she whispered after swallowing the last spoonful. “I didn’t realize, I…” She bowed her head, rubbing it as the headache worked itself into a background sensation.

Vinyl sighed and sat before Octavia, setting the bowl down on the floor. “I’m sorry, Octy. Really, I am. I knew this might end in tears, but I never thought it would—”

“End?” Octavia’s eyes drifted to Vinyl. They cast around, taking in the faces of Beauty, Symphony and Parish. “It hasn’t ended.”

Beauty cringed. “Octavia, you can’t—”

“It has not ended.” Octavia tried to sit up straight, but nearly fell on top of Beauty for her efforts. She settled for a firm frown. “Luna’s scared. She thinks I’ll be in trouble. I have to show her my support. If I… If I can just finish the song and… and…”

Parish sighed and patted her shoulder. “Octavia, I think you’re reading this wrong.”

“You didn’t see her, Parish.” A shuddering breath rose from Octavia. She closed her eyes and recalled Luna’s distraught face. She pressed a hoof over her heart. “She’s afraid. She doesn’t think she can win. I… I have to prove my faith in her.”

“Can win?” Symphony rubbed her hooves together and chewed her lip. “Win against what?”

Octavia opened her mouth to respond, but stopped herself. No, they shouldn’t know the truth. It would only scare them too. “It’s… hard to explain. It’s something in our dreams. She thinks it’s dangerous. I want to help. I have to help.” She tried to stand, but when the others braced she promptly sat back down and bowed her head. “Please, I can’t stop now.”

They exchanged worried looks once again. Parish and Beauty shared a nod, and then Beauty stood up. With a little nudging from Parish, Octavia allowed herself to fall to her side. She cringed at the pain in her head.

Parish stepped off the bed. “We’ll help you, Octavia.”

“We’ll do what we can,” Beauty added with a smile.

“You get some sleep,” Symphony instructed. “We’ll look after you and try to arrange your notes.”

“Don’t worry, Octy.” Vinyl knelt by the bed and offered a smile. Her image was blurring; Octavia couldn’t resist closing her eyes. “If this is so important to you, then we’ll make sure to help the princess too. I promise, everything will be okay, but you’ve got to take care of yourself first.”

Octavia wanted to speak, to thank them, but she couldn’t form any words. She could already feel sleep invading her mind.

Maybe, if she was lucky, she’d dream of Luna.

Author's Notes:

Octavia's section was pretty difficult to write. I mean, I pulled it off pretty quickly, but that doesn't mean I had an easy time about it. My mind is extremely logical, so writing delirium can be tricky at the best of times. Opinions?

Okay, important bit: last weekend, Reddux the Tyrant ended. Rather than immediately focus on the other stories I have planned, I'm going to instead decrease the update time for Audience of One by half. That's right, AoO's going to start updating weekly until it's done.

And it will be done soon. Three chapters to go.