Special Thanks to The Cake Devil for editing this chapter.

One week after Chapter one.

Luna’s day started like most ponies’ day, staring blankly into a cup of black coffee, waiting for it to cool so she could shot gun it down and wait for it to take its effect, whilst simultaneously trying not to collapse onto her table in exhaustion.

Most pony's assumed that as the princess of the night, she would be nocturnal, a princess of the moon rose with her charge, right? But of course that was silly, if that was the case, how would she work her dream magic? Would she be asleep by day and in a transient magically engulfed state of mind by night, how would she ever eat or bath if she was effectively asleep both day and night?

How would she have any real relationship with her sister or anypony at all for that matter? Who would wait until night for her to come at her court? No, Luna was, as every other diurnal pony. She woke with her sisters sun and did her job in seclusion as she liked best. Then, at night, she worked the dreamscape in her own lucid sleep. Scouring her charges dreams and searching for negative emotions, and traumas via night. Such was her way.

Though to add some credence to the rumour, she did in fact sleep later than her sister. Having to raise the moon and meticulously redesign the sky by night, meant she was up at least four hours longer than her older sibling.

But she didn't mind, she was an artist, and this was her passion, she spent her mornings planning the new constellation changes out on paper, with her tongue sticking comically out of her mouth in full concentration; a habit she had never been able to break since she was just a foal herself.

She slept very little compared to the average pony, but she didn't mind. She knew her purpose, the moon and stars were her children and a caring mother she was to them, devoting all she had thanklessly to them.

And despite what one would think, she had no wishes to change her life as it was now, everything was perfect. Well, she occasionally did wish her coffee cooled quicker, that was her only ever gripe.

Sure, she could have used spells, weaved a temperature manipulation spell towards the cup to make it the perfect brew. But this early in the morning, any capacity of thought towards spells or anything that wasn’t keeping her eyelids open and not falling asleep in the shower was out of the question. She would have an easier time spelling her full second name backwards on her head with her hind legs whilst singing the lyrics to the H.M.S pinafores’ modern major general.

So instead, as all mornings went, she stared almost drunkenly at her familiar surroundings of her room, hoping to distract herself long enough for the coffee to cool.

Thankfully it was one of those days where the god of procrastination and the even lesser known deity of mayhem and comedic timing was on her side and just as she pondered her life so far, something queer and unusual caught her attention.

Flicking her ear to a corner of her room towards her walk in wardrobe, a noise perforated through the two dark blue doors, similar in all but colour of her sisters room, she noticed a sound that was inharmonious to her surroundings.

It wasn't a faint whistling of the wind howling outside, nor the sound of floorboards creaking, nor even the clinking of armour from the guards moving outside her tower entrance.

What Luna heard was familiar, yet utterly alien inside the confines of what was considered the normal noise around her tower, it was a sound of something moaning.

Luna flicked both ears forward this time, lifting her head up from the table she cocked her head to one side in earnest interest and befuddlement. The sound came again this time louder than the first. Another unusual sound, this time between a grunt and a moan. It wasn't something a stallion could make, nor a mare, it was too soft, to quite, like a foal awoken from its slumber in need of its mother, it was too...

Too cute?

Luna, her coffee now forgotten, stumbled towards the closet, her mind entirely focused on what the sound was, trotting the distance to the doors. As she leaned forwards against one of the frames, she pressed an ear against the door, listening intently for the noise.

When nothing came after a few seconds, she began to ponder if it was her imagination, almost ready to turn back to her previous black energiser. the noise sprung again, louder and with more force than the last two times.

The something inside began again with a vengeance, with a noise that Luna could not rationalise away.

It was the sound of an infant crying. The sound, was unmistakable to Luna.

Lunas eyes almost bulged out her sockets, there was a foal in her closet!?

"What in the seven hells!?" She mutters to herself.

The thoughts how, what, where, and why, sprang instantly to her mind all at once. How did somepony sneak an infant in her room, what was it doing here of all places, where did it come from?

And more importantly, why her!?

Not that she was as disturbed by that last part. It was no secret Luna loved children, foals in particular, if the populace had learned anything from Nightmare Night it was that Luna was fantastic with children.

The why was more of a ‘Why the fuck was it specifically in her wardrobe, rather than any other place in the castle!’

Briefly she questioned whether or not it could have been bring your foal to work day. That at least would have been some explanation. Half of those days went from an education bonding experience with your parent or guardian, to why the tartarus are six foals playing with the crossbows in the armoury, or how did they get into the royal sweet pantry, Celestia’s going to kill everypony if she finds out, run, run for your lives!

Or in this case, how did a foal get into by underwear closet!

Luna shook her head, gazing at the calendar across the room, quickly realising that that day wasn’t for another few months.

Luna bit her lip as she decided on what was the best course of action, but as the cries pierced through the doors into the room, Luna ultimately decided only one thing was important at this time. All that mattered right now was the foal’s needs. She had to know it was okay. That was paramount.

Lighting her horn, the doors of her wardrobe opened softly, Luna peered into it scanning the pitch black room.

Everything inside was still and as it should have been, at least without the crying infant somewhere in her closet part. But Luna wanted to be sure it wasn't anything nefarious.

The attack on the castle and the introduction of the changeling race had made anything a possibility, even something as strange as this.
A dark sky blue dress flickered outwards catching Luna's eye, pulled off the rack the dress crumpled over a tiny bassinet obscuring her view of the foal inside. It seems that the possible infant had pulled it down on itself in its tantrum. She could assume that by the small bumps coming from the dress as the baby pushed up from underneath it.

Satisfied that no ambush lay in wait for her and still worried for the health of the foal, Luna levitated the bundle of cloth and, she presumed the cradle that lay in under it all, as softly as she could towards the entrance of the room, as she stayed by the moor of the archway.

"There, there little one, tis okay, we are here now." Luna whispered in a cooing fashion, attempting to placate the foal’s cries.

As the cradle landed by her hooves, the crying stopped replaced by gentle fussing and needy whines. Luna chuckled lightly, a motherly gentle smile on her face. Slowly she peeled back her crumpled dress only to feel the resistance of the foal who was still clinging to its new expensive hoof crafted blanket.

"Ahh tis a strong little one indeed!" Luna joked as she teased the blanket away from the foal who clung to it in a needy fashion.

“A fine warrior you are little one, but we require our clothing back, or Ms Rarity will not be too happy.” Luna cooed as she tugged gently against the little foal. Trying best not to hurt or perturb the sweet little creature who had its claws dug deep into...

Claws?

Luna eyelids shot up as she forced the dress off the foal ripping the light fabric in the process. The shock and force of it causes the thing inside to begin crying even more forcefully than before.

But by then, Luna could barely hear it now, as she stared at the creature in her basket. Trying with all her might not to scream.

Mentally paralyzed by fear of the bundle of fur, Luna’s body went into autopilot Slowly backing away from the basket as the child inside kicked its paws and claws in the air, crying at the shock and pain of the loss of its blanket. Almost smacking her rump on the door frame, Luna shut the doors of her wardrobe as softly as she opened them. Muffling the wailing of the...Hatchling?

Luna feel to her rump, staring with eyes wide and jaw open for what seemed like eternity. Then she rubbed her eyes and lifted a hoof up, and promptly smacked herself across the muzzle.

After that she walked back and opened the door slightly, immediately hearing the ear preaching wails of the confused infant. Before closing the door again.

Then she repeated the process another four or five times until her muzzle hurt too much to continue.

Gathering her courage and her senses, she opened the doors again, and stared down at the infant. The infant's body was contorted as it shifted in a weird fashion kicking its hind legs at the cradle, its tiny beady eyes were closed as small tears squished out the sides, its little yellow beak was open and moaning, but it appeared that it had tired itself out and was losing the strength to keep the wailing going.

Almost shaking with fear and anathema, Luna stared at the creature that inhabited the bassinet, then the bassinet itself. Something about it was familiar, there were large parts of the beaten old bassinet that were brown, from the underwood caused by chipping or simple old age, but Luna immediately noticed the deep dark ocean blue that was still clearly painted onto it. The colour alone would have been enough to trigger some sort of nostalgic memory from her. But it was the unmistakable symbol of the crescent moon that instantly reminded her of whose cradle this had been.

Even after those last four thousand years she could remember her own cradle perfectly. After all it was one of her last keepsakes that her father had made himself.

Her left eye twitched as blind rage took over her phobia, and she slammed the door once again walking towards the tower window. There was only one pony that knew where those family keepsakes where and how to access them, only one prank loving, bubble butted cake destroying pony that would dare have the audacity to do this to her.

Reaching the balcony door, stepping out into cool morning air, she knew in her heart that this had only one response.

“SISTER GET THINE ENORMOUS BUCKING BEHIND OVER HERE, NOW!”

Author's Notes:

Story time line will jump back and forth for this story, so if it feels like it’s jumping the gun a bit, don’t worry. All will be answered.

Additionally word count will vary in order for the story to progress more quickly, I am aiming for a chapter a week or so at this point. But take that with a pinch of salt.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter.