They did not begin that night.

In fact, all that happened that night was that Luna left an excited, bewildered, and slightly nervous Twilight to her rest. She insisted on it, even. Twilight needed sleep, and Luna promised her in a hasty note sent from her own court that she would ensure her friend had a restful night.

And she did, wonder of wonders. She had laid down in her large new bed expecting to toss and turn and was dead asleep in seconds.

Twilight woke the next morning with an abundance of energy, the kind of waking that makes one feel that suddenly the world is a place to be plundered. Coffee seemed excessive, and for the first time in a long time she found herself skipping caffeine altogether and plunging right into the day. Paperwork flew by. Appointments were made. Reports were written and reviewed. She even had time to banter with Spike as he came and went, trying to keep up with her energy.

She’d forgotten all about Luna until late in the afternoon.

It began, amusingly, much like their last conversation had. Twilight, having effectively finished with work through the next day, had just sat down in her study with tea when the letter arrived.

Or, rather, she found it already there waiting for her when she sat. Twilight stopped dead in mid-sip when it caught her eye, as if Luna herself might casually stroll through the door. She didn’t, of course. Twilight was alone. Spike was downstairs, cooking, and she hadn’t seen him in half an hour.

She bit her lip as she set the cup down and eyed the letter. It just kept… being there. Waiting. So, of course, she quickly grabbed it up with her magic and tore it open.

To Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Magic and Protector of the Central Plains,

I hope this missive finds you well. I penned it shortly after you retired, but put it on a delay, that you might not be disturbed in your duties. If you are still working this late, then I will be quite put out with you for filling my wonderful night with the gross and brash business of the day.

Now that that is over with!

You have not forgotten what I said to you, I hope. The dream that you will receive tonight, unless you choose now to cry off from this enterprise, has already been crafted. I have put quite a bit of thought not only on what you said, but on what you did not say. I have seen this species of anxiety before, and it is…

Well. I would say that it is easily cured, but the truth is that much relies upon you, Twilight. I can and I shall provide you with the forum and opportunity to explore new things, but what you make of them is ultimately your own choice.

In case you have forgotten, you will wear my sign within the Dreaming. It will cling to you, by and by, and will not be easily parted from your person. If you wish to leave the Dream, if something upsets or troubles you at all, you need only destroy it and I shall free you from my creation. It will not offend me (neither the destruction nor the retreat) and I shall not presume to intrude upon your reasons if you do not wish it.

So, I have reminded you of that… and of our talk. (It was not the strangest I had that night, but I will tell you of the other conversation another time perhaps.) If you wish to bow out, merely write me back in our usual fashion, and I shall not speak of any of this again until you do so. Otherwise?

Why, you need only sleep.

Luna

Twilight read the letter twice.

Then, carefully and with as much calm as she could manage, she placed it in her desk. And then immediately, frantically dug it out and unfurled it. Her eyes ran over the page again, and she bit her lower lip.

No, if she merely put it in her desk like any other letter she would not sleep well. It would be there, waiting, existing, easy for any passing pony or dragon babe to open and read on a whim. If they read there would be questions. Several questions. Several open-ended questions that would certainly lead to other questions, and then—

And then the paper incinerated and Twilight felt a bit safer. That had been a reasonable response.

She rose, then sat again, then fidgeted with her tea cup, then drank a bit of tea, and then sat back.

It was going to be a long wait ‘till bed.

----

In the manner of dreams, the beginnings were murky. Events do not proceed, but simply are. One did not come into a place but had always been there, and the world was not a line but a ray.

So it was that, with no context or preamble, Twilight found herself in mid stride, next to a bed.

It was a bedroom that she found herself in. Her bedroom, to be precise, spacious and empty. Or at least, in the waking world it was more or less empty. Just a bed, a vanity, shelves, a window leading to a balcony. Nothing extraordinary.

But this iteration of her bedroom was not that way at all. The candles, for one, were new. She usually preferred to slink off easily into the dark when it was time to sleep, but the illumination had a sort of haunting effect.

This is a dream, Twilight thought, still mid-step. I’m here. Luna… Luna made this.

Her feeble, experimental attempts at shaping her own dreams had never produced something so vivid, so solid. So detailed! The flames flickered like true flames! The night sky out her window was resplendent! The drapery was even correct.

Grinning, her purpose almost forgotten, Twilight tried using magic. It had always felt off before, not quite right, a victim of her simulacrum’s poor construction. But now it felt natural. No; better. It was not the usual warmth of her own magic that she felt now but a far deeper reservoir. For a moment she wondered if this was closer to what it was to be Luna, to feel thaumic energy as Luna did.

She wanted to try everything, see everything.

But before she could take another step, there was a soft popping that drew her vision towards the door.

A letter flew in, as if carried by a breeze, looping and spiralling until it came to rest gently at her hooves. Twilight looked down at it and blinked, puzzled. It did nothing more. But she did see the Lunar insignia, the crescent moon waxing, emblazoned on the envelope, and so she picked it up in her magic and opened the missive.

It was brief. Very brief.

Dear Twilight, I can feel your enthusiasm from my perch. I will share my arts with you by and by. For now, you ought to turn around.

Twilight blinked again. And that was when she heard it. Or rather, Twilight heard her.

The first sound was the rustling of sheets. The second was a soft moaning of some pony…

Twilight turned quickly.

She was there. A beautiful mare that Twilight recognized instantly as Fleur De Lis. She was propped up, a few pillows supporting her, and her limbs were bound to the bed itself with what looked like rope in the half-light.

She was on her stomach, all but prostrated, tail tied up in a tight bun and accented with a bow. The bonds had forced her legs apart, revealing her sex. Twilight swore, as she stared in a kind of awe, that it glistened in the candle light. She could smell it now, that ever-so-faint sickly sweetness.

Fleur’s head lolled to the side, and only now Twilight saw the kerchief tied around her head. A blindfold, cutting off sight, that most immediate of senses.

Fleur groaned again. “Mistress?”

It took a few seconds for it to register in Twilight’s brain over her own startled libidinous response that Mistress wasn’t just anypony. It was her. It was Twilight Sparkle.

“Mistress? Where are you?”

Twilight blanked. Thoughts simply ceased to come.

Fleur was beautiful. She knew this well. She’d thought it the moment she’d first laid eyes on the mare in Canterlot. Tall, delicate in the way that was no impediment, like a portrait perfect for hanging in some ornate hall.

She licked her lips.

She’s calling for me. She wants me to… Twilight grinned. It was a shaky grin, an unsure grin, but it was what it was. She strolled over to the bed, heart hammering in her chest. She’d been… not ready, but excited. Hell, she was excited now.

“Mistress? I miss your touch…” Fleur’s voice was musical. Different than she’d remembered, yes. Deeper, rougher but not in a way which displeased her. She did not speak like she was in lofty company. She spoke like a mare in urgent need.

Twilight wanted to hear her say more things.

“I’m here, my pet,” she said, stumbling a moment over what exactly to call her. Fleur, just her name? Some nickname or pet name? She was glad, suddenly, for the blindfold, that Fleur couldn’t see her hesitation. That was right, wasn’t it? She only heard the voice. Only Twilight’s voice mattered.

She sat on the edge of the bed, by her newfound pet’s side, and stroked a timid hoof along her back. But Fleur would not see her hesitation, or the way she took a breath before diving into even this harmless contact.

Fleur smiled and made light, pleased sounds as Twilight stroked her back, her shoulders, down towards her flanks. Just feeling, just touching her like this made Twilight bite her lower lip in excitement. She wanted to do more. She wanted to hear Fleur beg and plead and she wanted to hear how happy she was when Twilight gave her what she wanted.

But what? All of her fantasy, and now she had a mare at her mercy, helpless and bound, who wanted her touch so eagerly, and Twilight was too flummoxed to decide what to do with the prize.

Fleur being blindfolded didn’t just help hide Twilight’s uncertainty. It also heightened the meaning in each touch. Each contact came without warning, as a sudden rush of sensation, and Twilight loved her cute little gasps of surprise. She would touch some new place, just anywhere at all, and hear Fleur’s breath catch. She could make her do this. She could elicit these small responses and it made her…

“Mistress? How might I serve you? I’ll do anything that you like… I can bear anything my mistress wishes.”

Twilight loved the timbre of that voice. It was the subservient ideal she had always fantasized. It wasn’t like the shadows of ponies in her own experiments in the dreaming. It was warm and alive.

And like that, she felt something, a warmth of her own, in her chest. She grinned again and she hummed, slipping into her part in the play between them. “Anything?” She tried to say it in a suitably sultry way on a last-minute whim. “And… If she told you not to make a single sound, can you keep yourself from crying out? Answer me truthfully.”

“Yes, mistress.”

“If I were to, oh, spank you with my hoof, would you ask me to stop?” She bit her lip again, unable to stop the habitual nervous tick. She wanted to hear her say it, for several reasons. But mostly, Twilight just wanted to indulge. She already saw herself in her mind’s eye, punishing the beautiful rounded flanks underneath her hoof. She wanted to hear Fleur say—

“Yes, mistress; anything that you wish to do.”

“I want you to ask me to spank you,” Twilight said, just managing to keep her voice from betraying her own eagerness, knowing that it sounded stilted and awkward, but she was too eager to care. If she stopped she would lose the feeling. “And I want you to count.”

“Please, mistress. Please spa—ah!”

Twilight had already moved.

She didn’t know how she did it. One second, her hoof rested on Fleur’s soft flank, just above her cutie mark, and the next she had already delivered the first blow. It was loud in the otherwise silent room, a great cannonade-smack and then a sharp cry that was shock mixed with pain and something decidedly aroused as Fleur squirmed for a moment beneath her hoof.

Her foreleg and frog of her hoof stung a bit. But Twilight didn’t care. She was absorbed.

“One!” Fleur cried out.

Twilight hummed approvingly. And then she struck again, her hoof connecting with a hearty slap.

“Louder!”

“Two!”

Was it the sound that fed her growing need? The sensation that snaked up her foreleg? Was it the cute little cries—

“Ah! T-Three!”

—that fed her need? Already she wanted to push a hoof down between her haunches and attend to herself.

“Four!”

She almost reached down. But it occurred to her where she was and she was doing. Why do it herself? She had Fleur right here, and Fleur had a perfectly good mouth, didn’t she? One more, for completion’s sake. She could almost feel Fleur’s tongue already.

“Five!”

“That’s enough,” Twilight said. “You’ve done well. But I have something new you can do for me.”

She slid off the bed for a moment, coming around to Fleur’s head. Twilight mounted the bed, avoiding her pet’s long, slender horn, and positioned herself comfortably against the headboard, legs spread apart. Fleur waited for her, still and ready, and the only sound for a moment was their breathing.

“Show your mistress how much you love to please her. Scoot up.”

Fleur moved until her face was buried between Twilight’s legs, and then Twilight gently nudged her down with just a touch of magic until she felt hot breath right on her sex. She shivered, and opened her mouth to tell Fleur to begin, but her partner needed no encouragement.

Instead, she groaned softly as Fleur’s tongue ran along her folds, weaving back and forth. Twilight felt the edge of teeth on her inner thigh as Fleur gasped for breath open-mouthed and dived back in, buried face-first, and she squeezed her legs around Fleur’s head.

Her pet continued, lapping at her until Twilight’s leghold was beginning to twitch all around her head, and then she moved up, until her tongue swirled around Twilight’s clit and her legs spasmed.

And then Fleur stopped, pulling back slightly. She was probably going to ask some inane question about Twilight being alright, but Twilight didn’t have time for that, so she nudged her head back down in place again.

“More,” she said simply, a little out of breath, tossing aside the careful, fragile manner for just a second. “More, like that—oh, oh right there, just like that—”

Fleur had gone back to making little circles around her clit with soft, muffled moans that drove Twilight crazy. Twilight shivered and gasped as she felt herself growing closer and pushed Fleur’s head harder, grinding the mare’s nose against her sex. Fleur responded by sucking fiercely on her mistress's clit, her moans vibrating the sensitive bud. Twilight tensed up and cried out in pleasure as orgasm overtook her, feeling her body flood with pleasure as her limbs went limp. Fleur eagerly lapped at the juices flowing. Twilight twitched and moaned as Fleur’s actions caused her nose to rub against her clit.

When thought came back to her, Twilight found herself still propped up, with Fleur’s head still between her legs, both of them panting in unison. She tried to formulate some… anything, really, something to say. But nothing seemed appropriate. Until Fleur moved her head just so, and her slender horn rubbed along the inside of Twilight’s thigh so that she shivered.

Twilight decided to stop thinking, just for a moment. She reached out and stroked Fleur’s mane, and said, “You did well. You’ve been a good girl, Fleur, such a good girl.” Fleur responded only with soft, pleased little sounds, and Twilight continued stroking her mane.

Bit by bit, she replayed the dream over in her mind, but with a very different feeling about it. It was a calmer feeling, really. The things that she’d read about and thought about… well, this wasn’t entirely the same, but it was a step. It was farther down the road towards those things than she had gone before, and…

It was nice.

The calmer she became, the harder it was to do much more than continue stroking Fleur’s mane and praising her occasionally, until at last she closed her eyes and hummed, and heard a voice like bells calling her name.

*

“Twilight.”

She stirred, groaning a bit as she turned over in the luxurious bed. It was too early for ponies to be calling her, wasn’t it? Surely they could wait until she’d rolled out onto the floor and found something resembling breakfast before things needed to be signed or looked at or whatever it is… whoever it was wanted. Whose voice had that been? It sounded so familiar, but she couldn’t place it.

Twilight laid still in her bed, not yet opening her eyes, waiting for the voice to repeat itself so she could identify its owner, but there was nothing. Just the normal morning stillness of her own bedchamber and the very distant noise of Ponyville waking up.

When she’d waited long enough, Twilight opened her eyes, hoping for a glimpse of whoever was calling her.

She realized two things, right away. The first was that she was awake, in her own bed, no candles or Lunar letters or any of the trappings of the night. The second was that she was alone, and the rest of the bed where she’d not slept was smooth.

Twilight sat up and looked down at the space beside her, not thinking so much as regarding. Carefully, as if it might change in an instant, she reached out and touched the bed. Somehow, she expected the “dream” around her to shatter and find all of the night’s activities evidenced, but there was nothing. Just her. Just Twilight Sparkle and her vivid, life-like memory.

And, it was a bit sad to wake up alone. But more than that she felt strangely giddy. She’d done it! Or, rather, Luna had done it. And it had been amazing.

It was about this time, laying back with a smile on her face, that she felt the letter on her pillow. A letter. That would mean—

Her magic grabbed the letter and tore it out from beneath her head. It was heavy, too heavy for just paper. Holding it aloft, Twilight saw the Lunar insignia again and eagerly freed the missive from its little formal prison, dropping not only folded stationery but also a small silver crescent moon attached to a chain necklace that plopped rather annoyingly on her chest. She only paused to look down at it for a moment, and then her focus was on the letter itself.

Dear Twilight,

I hope that you feel rested this morning, but more than that I hope that you feel the first taste of true satisfaction. Because what you have done is but a taste, after all. We have much ground to cover yet, and time enough for it all. But for now we have done plenty.

Should you wish to discuss last night, you know when and where to find me. Regardless, I shall be contacting you soon.

I would ask how you fared, but I could feel it from my perch, and I am glad that you were pleased. Remember that you are safe with me.

Also remember, should you wish to do some Dreaming of your own, that I really am only a letter away… Or, if it be too early, you might use my medal. I am sure that an intellect such as yours can ponder out its workings.

Yours,

Luna

Twilight swallowed, and then picked up the medal itself and looked at it. Just a little silver moon, that was all. Silver, or pewter, she always confused the two. It wasn’t as if she adorned herself that regularly, and their old house had utensils made of both.

“From Luna,” she said, turning it over and over. “To, what, get one off in the middle of the day?” Twilight laughed, because it was ridiculous, and made herself comfortable. But she slipped the necklace around her head all the same. Ridiculous, yes, but the touch of the medal on her skin still sent a little thrill on her.

“Maybe I’ll… Mm. Maybe I’ll take you up on that sometime,” she said, yawning, and drifted back to sleep.

Author's Notes:

Well I did it. Several more chapters to go. Not that I'm super nervous or anything! Or embarrassed. Or trapped in the End-Cold of the Mississippi times hoping that we do not freeze

MaskedFerret jokingly wrote this as a suggestion for what Luna should write in the end of this chapter:

I trust you enjoyed yourself last night? I greatly enjoyed crafting such an experience for you blah blah blah, let me know if you want to continue something somethng, suggestive joke
Love, Luna

P.S. Go hump my sister. She reaaalllyy needs it.

Now!

This story is officially revived again and will be proceeding. Look for more.