Focusing on the walls and ceiling is difficult, as I roll down the steps of the palace. I feel weightless while my hair flutters about freely. I come to a stop, laying on my side. My soldiers and Equestrians mingle with drinks and food in-hand. No one notices me as they're too busy caught up in random banter. Someone grabs my hair and holds me up to their face.
"Oh...it's you, Raiden. I'll just set you back on the table." They return me to my perch overlooking the room. No one wants to talk with just a head.

I sit up in bed screaming. Lucretia is already at my side. She pulls me in and holds me as the emotions slowly fade. A violent shiver runs through my body; the thought of being a helpless head who sits awkwardly in the corner of the room was just a little too familiar in more ways than one. I grip the sheets like a log in a river, doing everything I can to hold on until the tide of emotions subside. Lucretia still says nothing. There's nothing she can say. All she can do is help keep me grounded in reality.

I pant heavily, releasing the sheets. I felt exhausted. My head is bowed, as I'm still not fully here yet. Lucretia continues to stroke my head. She always had better coping mechanisms than the rest of us. She let herself cry when she had time. She faced her emotions head on, let them flow through her, and eventually out of her. Unlike the rest of our soldiers, she didn't bottle anything up; she vented. Gradually, due to her emotional availability, she became a sort of den mother.

There was no denying the fact that she helped us hold on longer than we could have on our own. It's the normal routine. She doesn't ask, I don't say anything. She just knows when it's time to leave me be. She gets up and closes the door behind her. I watch her leave, a silent gratitude massaging the air between us. I bury my head in my hands when I remember seeing her with an arrow in her throat. Her eyes grow wide with panic, as she spits up blood. As she falls backwards, my hands reach out and desperately grab at nothing.

I pass by Emeris in the hallway during one of my patrols. He has both hands clasped around his neck. His eyes are wide with terror, and he doesn't look at anything but the floor as he walks. His face is red, almost as if he's choking himself. I stop and stare at him. He looks up at me, as he walks.
"I can't feel them..." he says in an eerie whisper. I raise an eyebrow in confusion.
"Can't feel what?" His head starts shaking violently at my question.
"My head...my hands...I know they're here but I can't feel them...." I shudder at the sound of his quiet, raspy voice. I can't think of anything to say as he walks away. All I can do is stare and hope this won't become a problem later.

I sit up in bed and sprint down the hallway of the palace, stumbling as I run with the very little light we had. My bare feet pound the slick, stone floor. The few candles that allowed me to see, dance like mad as I bolt past. A single guard in golden pony armor, leaps against the wall so I can pass. I get to Lucretia's room and burst through the door. She's sitting up in bed sobbing, holding her throat. I rush over to her side and sit down. I do what she does for me and hold her. She cuddles my arm and plants the side of her head into my chest. Her tears soak my black shirt. My skin aches under her grasp. She could break my arm and I'd still never let her go.

She takes in enough air to talk.
“I...I just can’t stop thinking about the feeling. I can still feel the arrow jammed in my windpipe. That horrible suffocated feeling. I can still feel the hard wood, the splinters, the arrow tip sticking out the back of my neck, all of it!” More tears run down her face. She sniffles a few times, gradually pulling herself together.

Another 10 minutes and she’s taking slow, deep breaths. She nuzzles my chest a few more times. She looks up at me apprehensively.
“Do...do you mind staying the night?” I smile and nod. She scoots over, and I get under the blankets with my arm wrapped tightly around her. Part of me is wondering if we'll ever get over this. We had faced many things together, survived when we shouldn't have, but this time we lived when we wanted to die. We had been through things that no mortal should ever experience. No creature was meant to die and come back over and over. Our brains told us we were dead, but somehow kept us going. This world felt like a lie. For all I knew, we had died and just refused to accept it. Maybe when I open my eyes this time, it will finally be over.

I stand at the corner of the dining hall, watching our soldiers enjoy a hot meal for once. The civilians and refugees are more than happy to bring dish after dish. My people on the other hand look like hell. Messy hair, red wide eyes, jittery movements, constantly scanning the room with bulging glares. I doubted any of them had slept properly. They look like they're waiting to be ambushed. I scan the room suspiciously, knowing it's all one big powder keg. One of my soldiers, while chowing down, bumps the woman next to him. She jumps to her feet.
"Don't touch me!!" she shrieks.

He gets to his feet furiously.
"Don't yell at me!" Soldiers around them rush in as it comes to blows instantly. I stop leaning on the wall as multiple other fights break out. The ponies scatter from the room in confusion and terror. Food is knocked to the ground, multiple soldiers fall to the floor, beating each other senseless. The room is filled with yelling, cursing, and clanking of armor. I have no idea what to do, as everyone seems to be in their own little world.

They all come to a standstill, enveloped in a yellow aura. Celestia stands at the far end of the room. Her horn glows softly. She waits a few seconds then releases everyone. They stop fighting and go back to sitting on the benches without saying a word. Celestia looks over at me, and motions with her head to follow.

It's a short trip to her throne room. She closes the doors behind us and trots nervously to her chair. I cross my arms, and pace across the room without looking at her.
"I'm sorry princess, I don't know what got into them." I shake my head a few times, feeling like I've failed in my duties. Celestia raises an eyebrow in shock.
"You do not know? Are you not professional warriors? I assumed this behavior would be familiar to you."
My eyes narrow as I jut my head forward in confusion. Celestia shifts her weight a few times in discomfort.
"I know your people may be used to war. They may be used to death, and the fear of being killed at any point in time. But tell me, have they ever experienced dying repeatedly, and watching their brothers and sisters-in-arms be murdered over and over?"

I stare blankly at her in response. Celestia nods sympathetically.
"I do not mean to sound forward General Raiden, but I do not think even you are as well put together as you think. I have heard you cry out in the night many times. Have you ever...discussed these emotions?"
I grit my teeth a bit and look off to her side.
"We are Taraskan, we don't need to discuss such things."

Celestia stares at me, as if she can see into my mind. Her face doesn't twitch uncomfortably, nor does she act like this is the first time she's had this conversation.
"Raiden...emotions are not weakness. Every creature has them to one extent or another. Whether you deny them or not, they are still there, and as you will undoubtedly come to realize, they will find a way out. Face them or they will face you."

I exhale through my nose in annoyance.
"We will be fine. They need time to relax and blow off steam, then they will return to normal."

Celestia touches her chest with her right hoof, as her face shows heartbreak.
"Why do you keep all this inside? Surely your military has recognized the need for more....therapeutic approaches?"

I hang my head. A small dagger of sadness strikes me. I start to understand what she's saying, but most of me doesn't wan to admit it. To admit weakness is dangerous; it gives your opponents a way in.
"We are taught from the first day of training to restrain ourselves. We do not talk about emotions. Such things are a luxury we've never had time for. If we are not killing, we are preparing to kill or be killed. It has always been like this..."

Celestia trots over to me, trying to hold back her sympathy for the sake of my pride. She gently places a hoof on my shoulder.
"Raiden...I will never understand the depths of what your people have been through, but if there's one thing I know, it's fine to have time to explore yourself...and to have a good friend." I get uncomfortable and look off to the side again. She lowers her hoof, and carefully places her head on my shoulder. I feel myself shake. Her words hit something deep in me. My entire time in her kingdom has been gradually digging up old things I didn't even know I had.

I sigh and take a few steps back. She stares at me with genuine concern. The same gloomy look I always have, washes over my face.
"I am Taraskan. I will find a way....I don't need anything except my sword." With that, I turn around and leave the room. I glance over my shoulder, and see Celestia's mouth tremble a bit. Her eyes are glass as small tears begin to form. I look away, worried that my own waterworks may erupt at any moment.

Emeris and I halt our conversation as Celestia pokes her head into the room. Her smile reflects admiration and anticipation.

"Raiden, we're having a special guest over tonight upon Luna's request. Do you have anything...formal to wear for a dinner party?"

I nod, having exactly one thing to wear outside of my armor. I look over at Emeris who smiles.
"I can take watch tonight, go enjoy yourself for once..."

In my room, I paced as my stomach turns to knots. None of them had seen me without my armor before. Would I be ugly to her? Was I even her type? Every last loose hair on my neck gets trimmed off. My sideburns connected perfectly with my small beard. A thin strip of hair an inch wide outlines my jaw, connecting to my chin. Every last line had absolutely no hairs out of place. I was completely clean shaven everywhere else, and my short, auburn hair was combed forward and parted on the left side. I checked my outfit for every last stray speck of dust.

Lucretia giggles from the doorway, causing me to gasp. She's still in her full armor, but it's been cleaned, with every scratch buffed out and polished to a mirror shine. She had personally seen to it that at least some of the more anxious refugees found something to do. She walks up to me, knowing how nervous I was. She straightens the collar on my overcoat, and pretends to nit pick a few things just to make me feel better. She gently swats my arm.
"You look fine. I'm sure she'll drool over you...assuming ponies drool."
She gives me a big, beaming smile.

As I walk into the room, I see Luna with an elegant, light scarf, painted all shades of purple. The moon’s phases are depicted on it in black, from waning up to a full moon. She looks up at me and studies my appearance. A small embarrassed smile crosses that cute mouth of hers. I see her cheeks redden, but she still doesn't take her eyes off me. Celestia wears a shawl around her neck of a light rainbow, matching her equally radiant hair. Princess Cadence wears a similar sized shawl but white, with yellow trimming.

I embarrassingly look down at my attire. A formal vest with a plain shirt underneath, my overcoat shimmers due to a light reflective layer and my pants were a fine, sleek wool. All black. It was all I had and all I was ever given. I wore it to funerals as well. It was this outfit, armor, and a basic shirt and pants was my selection and made up half of all my earthly possessions. I briefly considered asking Luna to go on a small shopping rampage with me after dinner, but realized that they probably had nothing for my...species.

My eyes look over the table and stop when I see a monster sitting in a chair. His double chin shakes as he takes bite after bite of his food. To Hurrand's left, is the scrawny creep who claims to be an expert in magic and tactical advising. He was nothing more than a sadist with a golden tongue.

I sit down uncomfortably to the left of the same “King” that has tormented me more than my enemies. Luna picks up on my anxiety and glances at me. My attention is locked onto my plate of food, and there it will stay until this nightmare is over.
Celestia and Cadence look over at me for a brief second then back to the King, the monster, the tormentor. Celestia clears her throat.
“Well, King Hurrand, I’m glad you could join us this evening.”

Hurrand chuckles polity. I knew it was just a clock ticking down for him.
“Well of course, thank you for inviting us. We were just discussing how getting out of our dreary castle would do us some good.” He motions to the Minister with his shoulder. The Minister smiles and nodes swiftly and apathetically.
"Yes. This invitation was pleasantly...unexpected." He’s unenthusiastic and it shows. I swallow and do my best to eat slowly, even though my hands instinctively want nothing more to shovel food in my mouth so I have an excuse not to speak. Celestia glances at me again, and then looks back to the King once more.
“I just wanted to thank you for sending Captain Raiden here to assist with our current skirmish with the Og Nag. I honestly don’t know what we would have done without him.”

Luna and Cadence both nod and smile in agreement. They look over to see if their compliments move me, but I refuse to make eye contact with anything besides my meal. I appreciated their praise, even if it was slightly exaggerated just for my benefit. They often try to bring me out of my shell with compliments, but this was going to get bad, and I’d prefer just to get it over with. I freeze my cold exterior in an attempt to protect myself from what is to come.

Luna sets down her cup with a wide smile.
“Yes, thanks to his brilliant tactics, we still have our home. He is welcome here any time.” My hands shake. I know what’s coming. The same thing during every dinner with the vile sociopath who dares sit on the throne of my country.
The King scoffs as loudly as he can. It manages to startle the princesses briefly.
“Brilliant? You’re telling me this buffoon carried out a proper defense all by himself?” He exaggerates his condescending laugh, almost sounding like a donkey having a painful bowel movement and his rider joins him. He flattens his hands on his stomach and leans back with closed eyes, trying to fill the room with the sound of his cruel hysteria. Celestia and Cadence both recoil a bit in shock at the King’s blatant insult towards me. Luna casts aside normal expectations with a sharp glare. It warms me a bit, but I must remain cold to survive the winter.

Luna's mouth trembles a bit as she tries to politely defend me.
“I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you mean, but Raiden was the only reason we’re even still here. We had a war dropped on our lap with no official army or strategy to adapt to it. With our normal team lead by Twilight Sparkle away, we had no clear hope of what to do.”

My stomach flips inside me. I know what he’s going to say. I know the story he’s going to tell. It never hurts any less. I had just started to believe I had purpose again. I actually let my guard down, just to have my walls rebuilt bigger and stronger.

Hurrand stares for a second then snorts loudly and bangs his fist on the table as his unnecessarily deafening laugh echoes around the room, like a clown entertaining children. He leans over his plate, letting food fall out of his mouth for effect. He's closely followed by his back-scratcher’s high pitched squeals as well. Hurrand does a poor job of pretending to compose himself, before clearing his throat and beginning the same tale I had hoped would be lost from this land forever.
“This idiot was leading a counterattack from our city and ended up losing almost all his troops in one attack!” Hurrand chuckles.
“What was it again Raiden? Nine-hundred dead?”

I take a sip from my cup, still keeping my eyes to the table.
“One thousand, two hundred and thirty-eight.” Hurrand stares at me with a mask of disbelief.
“How do you always keep track of that number?” he asks with a light chuckle.
“Because I went to every funeral and gave a speech. We didn’t have time to bury them so we did mass funerals for groups of one hundred. I still went to each one.”

Hurrand ponders outloud.
“Odd, I don’t remember the funerals.”
“You insisted on sailing to the North with your family as a mini-vacation before they attacked again.” I take another casual sip of my drink, trying to act as if I'm not being publicly murdered.
“Oh yes, that’s right. Quite stressful being a King during a war. I apologize that I always ask, what went wrong with your silly plan again?” He knows damn well what went wrong. He wants to hear me say it so he can criticize every defense I can come up with. He wants me to feel trapped.

My blood begins to boil. My frozen exterior begins to give way under the heat just like it always does.
“They had stormed the city in one final massive wave. We were still recovering from their last siege as it were. Our only hope was to take our last 2500 soldiers, and ambush them from all sides, evening the odds, since they had easily six times our numbers. Right as we were about to ambush them, you gave the order for half my men to fall back and protect your vault. Upon leaving, they were spotted and the enemy took another path instead of our intended one. To stop our soldiers from getting trampled from behind, I moved everyone I had to block their path, revealing their hidden positions, so our losses wouldn’t be an entire 2500, but we still lost everyone who stood in their way but a handful. We laid down our lives so our brothers and sisters could live.”

The princesses mouths hang open.
Hurrand rolls his eyes and tries to shrug condescendingly at their reaction.
“Oh come now, you can’t run a kingdom without gold can you?”
“You can’t run a kingdom without soldiers or loyalty either.” I add offhandedly.
Hurrand laughs loudly.
“Right, but you can always just buy more soldiers.”
The Minister slowly turns his head towards me.
"Easy child. That is your King you are speaking to." Celestia narrows her eyes at his complete disregard for the very soldiers who put their lives on the line to save her people. Anger begins to poison me. The King senses my rage and continues his attack.
“We called him the Sot Suker after that. In our realm, it refers to those born with certain…intellectual disabilities, whose only purpose is to shovel the excrement of those higher up, like ourselves.”
The Minister and Hurrand squeal with laughter.
“Yes yes, we also took his black crown and dyed it brown as a reminder too!”
They both share in a roaring hysteria of laughter along with sliding around on their seats.

I start trembling. My skin is on fire with the fury and pain he so kindly brought back. I glance at the knife next to me and contemplate putting an end to his tyranny. I look up for a brief second and see the horrified looks of my newly acquired friends, as they gawk at the beast.
All I can hear is the screams of my men, fighting and dying, and calling out for orders. I had none. My last ditch effort, ruined by greed and we were left for slaughter.

Hurrand wipes away tears before bringing down the hammer.
“Afterwards, we got flooded with letters from all the land. Mothers, fathers, siblings, all sorts wanting to know what had happened to their loved ones.”
My boiling blood turns back to ice.
My rage becomes a lifeless tundra.
My pride turned to ash.
The letters, oh God the letters...

The Minister decides he’ll enjoy taking a few jabs at me as well.
“We made sure he read every message and replied to them. Those families deserved to know what had happened. They needed to know who...failed them.”
Hurrand looks down at his drink and nods as if they had made a difficult call.
“Yes well, I feel every one of our citizens deserves justice.”
Celestia stutters. She wants to say something, but she’s caught off guard. It’s just as well, I’d rather him get it out of his system so this dinner can be over with. The King and Minister knew that disapproval from their subjects could easily be met with a quick demise, so they used me as a scapegoat. They placed all the blame on me. Every last bit. Only the soldiers under my direct command knew the truth, and they’d be swiftly executed for speaking it.

I remembered the look of my black crown. It was only for formal purposes, but it was the first gift I had received not meant for combat. The crown was a massive symbol of pride for me, and the only reason the king tolerated my protest, was under the condition he would dye it brown. In the middle was an orange gem, symbolizing the fire within me. It wasn’t the most original idea ever, but it meant everything to me. While the crown was more of a solid, custom-fitted headband, it was still a gift. The entire crown was chiseled to look like the silhouette of a black forest, with trees in the middle holding the gem, that had now been covered up with brown paint.

I had never known what material it was made out of, but it was smooth as ice. It absorbed heat easily, and was constantly a source of relief from the sun in the sky. It was artistic enough to draw attention, so people knew I was important. Any bad day could be subjugated with a simple stroll through town. The looks of astonishment were a shield from the grating feelings of any war we were in. Even after they got over the initial shock, I always admired how someone's eyes would bulge just slightly every time they saw it. Without even knowing me, nobles would make eye contact with me when I spoke, not even requiring an introduction to give my words attention.

The brown paint was a single swift fire that destroyed it all. It's texture was course and rough. It grated against my skin so abrasively, that I would frequently develop sores where it sat. The paint also made it too tight to sit correctly. It was often hopelessly crooked, making me out to be some fool in the corner. I was often mistaken for the King's disabled son. The once respectful smiles, were ones of sympathy at my "disorder". They would recoil in shock when I spoke. On a few occasions, I overheard rumors that I was faking a mental illness I didn't even have. I was awkwardly avoided like some child with a dunce cap.

Every so often, when the king was asleep, I’d scrape off the brown paint and stare at the gem, only to cover it back up before the sun rose. I haven’t done it in months.

I crawl back inside myself. Those soldiers were dead because of me. They had stored their hopes and lives inside someone who would inevitably crumble. I had apologized in every letter, taken the full blame in every sentence. Each letter telling me who had died, their name, what they wanted to do after the military, memories, and the pain they now felt at the loss of their loved one. Each letter felt as if I had helplessly watched the soldier die. In a strange way, I got to know every warrior that died under my command that day, more than I ever would have after a thousand battles along side them.

Hurrand leans towards the princesses a bit for a devious effect.
“That’s why we call him the King of the Dead, given the bulk of his forces are now lying in wooden boxes under the earth.” He chuckles, and his eyes reflect admiration of his self-proclaimed witty nickname for me.
Luna looks down at her plate horrified. She had called me the King of the Dead a few times, thinking it was a compliment. There was no way I could ever be mad at her though. I wanted to reach out and stroke her head, and tell her it was okay, but I can’t bring myself to move. I watch the entire circus with the corner of my eye.

The next few minutes are consumed by nothing more than tension, and the awkward sounds of eating. I was trusting dinner would be finished soon, and this wreck would be washed out to sea. I was wrong.
Hurrand perks up with a sudden flare of realization.
“Oh! Funny story! Did Raiden ever tell you how he became a captain?”

I was done. I get up, trying not to seem angry. My chair scoots back just a bit too fast however.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be back in a moment.” I bowed to the table, walked to the end of the room on my left, went right down a corridor, then left up the stairs that exited to a balcony. The wind messes up my perfectly combed hair. The moon was a spotlight on my misery and failure as a captain.

I couldn’t hold it anymore. Silent tears made their way down my face. The disgrace, the turmoil, all of it pounded on the door; an uninvited guest who won’t leave without at least getting tea. I gazed at the moon, wishing I could live there for a moment, maybe even forever. Tears from the past had been the majority of my company during numerous empty nights. I was used to stifling the sound of my crying back in the old castle, until I made no sound at all.

I gently leaned against the balcony, and peered at the lands far beyond. The full moon washed over everything. A gentle breeze brushes the back of my head. I hear the door behind me open and close, followed by that familiar vanilla perfume.
I exhale and hang my head. She slowly walks up to me.
“Can I join you?” she asks, in that gentle soothing voice.

I say nothing. How could I? My entire past was laid bear for all to hear and I had been humiliated to the highest degree. I wanted nothing more than to vanish. And yet, her presence comforts me. Every bone ached to tell her how I felt, but what could a Princess want with the King of the Dead.

After waiting for a reply, she appears at my side, not staring this time, but just being there. We say nothing. While only seconds pass, it feels like hours. She gets on her hind legs and lifts her front hooves onto the banister of the balcony. We stand there, enjoying each other's company. It was just a well, I had nothing to say anymore.

Then suddenly, the tension is lifted by the smallest of gestures. I feel her gently whip my lower back with her tail. I do nothing. She waits for a reaction. When she doesn’t get one, she hits me just a bit harder. She looks at my face as the corner of my mouth twitches, trying to hold back a smile. I hear her exhale a bit as she muffles a giggle, then she repeatedly hits me over and over as fast as she can. After several of these, I can’t help it. I step behind her and tickle her sides. She jokingly tells me to stop in that wonderful, playful tone of hers. I stop and go back to standing, more relaxed now. The tiny bit of silence is broken by our mutual chuckles.

I look down at my hands, as I rub them anxiously.
“Thank you..” I say, barely above a whisper. I peek at her briefly. She smiles at me. She tilts her head to the left just a tiny bit. The gentle glow of the moon illuminates that elegant hair of hers, a breathtaking mixture of blue and purple. Her magnificent teal eyes pull me in; embracing me, almost promising peace and happiness. I can’t help but stare right back. Once again, words fade from necessity, as I’m captivated by that alluring stare. The winter that had been my soul melted away. I forgot about the dinner. I forgot about everything. There was only one thing I wanted, and that was this moment with her.

I can’t keep it in anymore. I start babbling.
“That man in there. He used my honor, my pride. I was nothing more than a napkin for his appetite of approval and popularity. He alone is responsible for killing every last one of my men. My soldiers were my family. I would have died for them. But they died for him instead, for coin, for gold. And when it was time to pay respects to those who had been silenced forever, he takes his family and goes on a pleasure cruise. I have been dishonored, abused, neglected...forgotten. They call me the King of the Dead. A novelty of a name, that is an army of daggers every time I hear it uttered.”

She shows sympathy in her eyes.

“He stole it all from me!” tears begin forming in my eyes. I start stuttering. I can no longer produce words. I start several sentences only to choke on the first syllable. I can’t hold the pain in anymore. I fall to my knees sobbing. She puts her left hoof between my legs so she can lean over and rest her head on my shoulder. She wraps her wings around me, and soothingly strokes my back with her right leg.

The tears stop immediately. I let myself enjoy the moment for once in my life. She takes her head off my shoulder, closes her eyes, and presses her cheek against mine. She takes her right hoof and pulls my head against hers.
“It’s okay to cry.” she whispers in my ear. My eyes run again. I bury my head into her shoulder. I lay my fingers in her mane. She pulls me in tighter. I had never let myself be exposed and vulnerable before, but she just had a way of not letting me hide it. I could trust her. Those four words were impossible, illogical. How could you trust anything?
I let myself drift off. It’s just us now. No war, no misery, just her and me.

“Every time I look at that moon, I just want to live there for the next 1000 years.” I mutter into her fur.
She chuckles and shows those gorgeous, white teeth. I sniffle and clear my throat.

“What?”
She sighs amusedly and shakes her head a few times before looking back to me.

“Just a story. I’ll tell you another time.”
I feel her smile as I lift my head from her shoulder and look her in the eyes once more.

I had no idea how she felt. I had no idea how I would ever explain to her how astonishing she was to me. Once again she had pulled me out of a river of my own tears, and dried me off. Her eyebrows drift to the sides a bit, as sympathy washes over her face.

“I don’t know what we would have done without you. I look over our kingdom every day, grateful that you came when you did. You saved my home, my friends, my family. Everything I’ve ever known is now safe because of you. I owe you everything and that is a debt I can never repay.”

I’m speechless. She had said the words I had longed to hear. I was appreciated. My existence now meant something. I can’t help but sit there, locked in her gaze. A single tear makes its way down my cheek. I don’t bother wiping it away. Just once I wanted her to see the real me. No lies, no excuses, no insecurities. She knows what she’s just said to me. She knows how much it meant. She nuzzles the tear off my face. It takes all my willpower not to embrace her again. Her warm breath on my face makes me tremble; it smells like honey and sugar. I was grateful we said nothing, for I had absolutely no clue how to respond. Those gorgeous teal eyes embrace me again. We go back to staring. Was she just being nice, or was this real? Do I go with my heart, or do I accept this as nothing more than an act of charity?

We both nervously swallow. I timidly run my right hand up her neck and stop right before her cheek. She twitches for just a second and lets out a tiny gasp as her eyes grow wide. She doesn’t move, doesn’t look away, and most importantly, she doesn’t pull from me. She glances at my mouth then back to my eyes. I reach out with my right thumb and start stroking her cheek. She looks down at my mouth for a bit longer this time, glances at my eyes, and starts to close them as she leans closer.

Our moment was cut short by the loud shouting coming from the dining hall. Luna and I quickly ran back inside and down the steps to where we found the 40 foot dining table, turned over and against the wall. Celestia was standing fiercely, yelling at Hurrand. He sits there cowering with his master, intimidated by the very wrath he most likely brought on himself.

She screams at him. “How dare you say such words in my halls! We owe that man our very lives and I will not sit here as you mock him so! I do not care what he has done! You are nothing but a self-centered greedy oaf, and I want you out of my castle now!”

He swallows nervously, as his owner clings to his arm in terror. A sly smirk crosses over my face. He turns to the Minister.
“Just as well, it is getting late.” They both get up, turn and walk to the door. I follow them out, but not before turning around, and bowing to princess Celestia.
“My lady.” Is all I let out. She restrains her angry glare just long enough to nod her head at me. I give Luna one quick glance, she returns my look. A subtle, gentle smile crosses my face. She returns the gesture. For the first time in years, someone had stood up for me, not even I had done so. As we walk to the door, I hear the gentle sound of hooves behind me. I stop and turn around. Luna stands there with that soft, admiring look in her eyes.

She stares at me for a moment, then her scarf slowly unravels from her neck, wrapped in that purple glow. It floats through the air soothingly, as if caught in a breeze. It ties itself around my neck, caressing my beard. I can’t help it, I smile, narrow my eyes and tilt my head to the left the same way she always does. She quietly snorts, gives me a huge smile, and tilts her head down in slight embarrassment without breaking eye contact. I keep my gaze locked on hers as I turn around. We walk down the steps from the castle. And to my joy, the light scarf faintly glows purple in the moonlight. I hold it to my nose and take a gentle whiff; it smells like honey and vanilla.