Author's Notes:

This story is a sequel, featuring characters that played supporting roles in the prequel. While reading the prequel is not strictly necessary, those that do will have a better understanding of events in this story. Wherever necessary I will of course provide details that will either serve to remind long-time readers or to inform new readers of past events.

Princess Celestia (Diarch of the Land, Everlasting Steward of the Sun and named Most Attractive Mare in so many magazines that she now had an honorary place on every top ten list conceived of in the last fifty years) was not happy.

To be fair, Celestia wasn’t precisely unhappy either. She hadn’t had much reason to be unhappy since Twilight Sparkle and her five friends had defeated the Nightmare. It was more of a Royal Pout. This mostly involved a lot of pacing back and forth and wishing she were back in Canterlot, even if she was supposed to be resting.

Don’t be so dramatic, a familiar voice in her head said testily.

Celestia frowned, stopping in mid pace to arch a single eyebrow at her own reflection in the mirror over Twilight’s dresser. “Don’t even act like you didn’t want to go as well, Astra.”

Of course I did, the voice responded. Celestia could see her in her mind’s eye, a mirror image of herself, her face showing the exasperation that could be heard in her voice, if a voice in one’s head could be said to be heard.

It was easier to talk to the mirror at these moments. It helped Celestia feel slightly less insane, though she knew she had to be, somewhat, to be experiencing this schism in her mind that had named herself ‘Astra’.

Astra was Celestia, but also not. It was a fairly singular phenomenon, having only one comparable instance. But unlike Luna’s madness, the voice in Celestia’s head seemed benign, for the moment. Celestia had come to terms with it (or her, as it were) to the point where casual conversation was no longer troublesome, so long as she was alone, or only around friends.

Luna has a very valid point, though. You aren’t recovered.

“Oh, that was just common sense. The moment I step hoof in Canterlot I’ll be swarmed with ponies demanding to know where I was and how I intend to address the changes Luna made in my absence. I’m not happy about it, but I understand why.”

Wait. I thought you were upset about the wedding? Astra responded, sounding confused.

“Well, that too, but mostly about Luna ordering me to stay here while she tended to business. It was Yinglong, Astra! There is no ‘being ready’ for a five mile long ancient Chineighse dragon with teeth like broadswords. I could have helped.” she snapped back, sitting down in front of the mirror in a huff.

You wanted to fight the dragon with Luna?

“Of course I did! It would have been very therapeutic to hit something. I have centuries of repressed irritation, and taking a few decades worth out on a dragon with a grudge would have done wonders.”

And you thought I’d be eager for you to do this? I thought I made it clear in which way I prefer you work out your frustrations. Pink or purple, or both, I’m not picky. A giant dragon isn’t one of the choices I mentioned.

Celestia frowned at her reflection, going so far as to point a hoof at it. For as much as Astra represented her repression of her own needs, she would have thought that would extend to things like aggression. “Only because it wasn’t an option, surely?”

Let me think... would I rather you risk your life, which, incidentally, risks my own existence, tenuous as it is... or try to lure your student and her marefriend off to bed? I’ll get back to you.

“I wasn’t asking for your opinion on the matter. It was already decided on by my sister before she even told me.” Celestia groused, frowning at her own reflection.

And do you think she made a bad decision? You are her fellow Diarch, are you not? You could have told her you were going regardless.

“I... I could have, yes. But she was... right. The less I use magic, the quicker I will recover.”

Exactly. Even if only in defense, you would have needed magic, and copious amounts of it.

“Or I would have forced Luna to keep me safe while trying to keep up the attack herself, yes. I know.”

Why even worry about it, now? She took care of him weeks ago.

Celestia stared at the mirror for a long moment, eventually turning from it. “I’m just... feeling very much like I am out of the loop.”

You needed to rest. Wasn’t keeping you out of the loop the point?

“The point was to rest and recover, not to stress myself about not being able to attend a wedding, or not being able to strike down Yinglong with my own hooves!” she said, slamming both hooves down in frustration.

Well, if it makes you feel better, you’ve managed to smite an innocent dresser.

Celestia looked down in surprise and found that she’d apparently hit the dresser top with enough force to crack it, and that she’d left scorch marks behind as well. She made a mental note to apologize to Twilight about it once she came home again.

You could just go, you know. Astra said after a long moment.

“No, no I can’t. My little ponies will panic if they see me in this state.”

No, not to Canterlot. Just... outside. You could talk to somepony besides yourself for a time.

Celestia snorted humorlessly. “How would that be any better than going to Canterlot?” she demanded.

Ponyville isn’t expecting Princess Celestia to be here. That’s the reason why you’ve stayed put in the library, but you could probably manage a low grade illusion with no trouble by now, and a bit of sun would do you wonders.

There was a long silence as Celestia gave the idea some thought. Being cooped up in the library had really only been troublesome once all of its normal occupants had left for the wedding. The library wasn’t even receiving the patrons it normally would, since its de facto librarian was out of town.

She was a social pony, and had always been one. Sitting around and brooding wasn’t helping her in the slightest. “I’d need more than a minor illusion to look like myself,” Celestia said at last.

Yes, but as you are now you could pass for a tall unicorn, provided you covered the wings.

Celestia looked at herself in the mirror, doing more than just glancing at herself so she could have somepony to address, really looking at herself for the first time in a while.

It had been several weeks since she and Twilight had needed to solve a rather large magical problem having to do with Luna’s meddling with a relatively simple healing spell meant to fix Rarity’s cracked horn. Things had gone about as well as could be expected, since nopony had died, but the magical energy it had taken to break the spell had needed to come from somewhere. Since Celestia was the only pony around with more magic at her disposal than her sister, the choice had been obvious. In the end, she’d been left in a weakened form, much the same as her sister had been after being freed from the Nightmare.

The mare in the mirror had recovered some of her strength. Gone was the flat and lifeless pink mane that had hung around her head. While some pink remained, she could see the auroral colors beginning to reassert themselves. They were faint, but visible, the barest beginnings of colors as dawn lends its light to the world. And while it no longer moved in a gentle flow, it had regained some of its volume.

She’d always been a tall mare, towering over ponies so much that she’d taken to holding court while sitting on a cushion just to look slightly less intimidating. The pony in the mirror was still one that would be head and shoulders above most, but she wasn’t certain if she’d be able to see eye to eye with her own sister, yet.

“I’d need to leave my regalia here,” she said musingly.

It’s a bit uncomfortable right now in any case, too loose.

“The wings are going to be hard to deal with. It might be easier to hide my horn, but then I couldn’t use magic or I would look very suspicious.”

You’re going to have to do something about your horn, anyway. It’s much longer than a unicorn’s. And there’s no way anypony would confuse those giant wind-movers at your side for normal pegasus wings, but if you kept them closed you could probably pass them off..

Celestia extended a wing experimentally, then closed it with an unhappy grunt. Astra was right, of course, but the more she had to mask with magic, the more difficult the illusion would be to maintain. Her coat color, for instance, would have to stay as it was, but a white coat wasn’t uncommon in unicorns. Even her mane, while unusual, wouldn’t require alteration.

She cursed at herself as she realized the obvious solution. She should have let Rarity make her a dress as the mare had continuously offered over the course of the prior few weeks. Celestia’s reasoning for not bothering had been sound enough (her measurements were going to change drastically as she recovered) but it would have solved her immediate problem quite nicely.

“Perhaps if I threw a cloak over them... “ she shook her head. Like all winged ponies, she found having her wings bound up in any way very uncomfortable. “It would be slightly easier to keep the horn hidden,” she said decisively.

Admittedly, it might avoid you being tempted to use magic, and the illusion will be enough of a drain on you as is.

Celestia nodded. Strangely, even trying to piece together an adequate disguise to go take a walk was improving her mood by leaps and bounds. “There’s still the problem of my cutiemark.”

Did any of those gowns they fetched from the old castle still fit?

Celestia blinked, having to think about it for a moment. Applejack, Rarity, and Fluttershy had gone on an expedition to the old castle, intent on bringing back some of Luna’s old wardrobe. They’d brought a few of Celestia’s as well, since Rarity had wanted to study the designs.

“No,” Celestia replied. She’d left them there for a reason, after all. “I’m afraid those haven’t fit in centuries. I’d put them in storage even before Luna— Well, for some time, at least.”

They stopped fitting because you grew taller, didn’t they?

“Taller... and wider,” Celestia admitted begrudgingly.

You could try them again.

Celestia frowned at the mirror. “I literally just told you they stopped fitting.”

Yes, but you’re also shorter and smaller in nearly every way. You might fit into them, now.

Celestia looked at her flank doubtfully, but had to admit it was worth trying.

As it turned out, she fit into all of them again, and so she proceeded to spend a good long time modeling each of them for Astra before settling on a fetching cream-colored toga-esque gown that predated the building of her old castle.

“I used to love this one!” she said as she spun around in it, watching the end flare fetchingly around her flanks. It was not a dress Princess Celestia should have ever been caught wearing, but then, when she’d worn this dress, she had simply been Celestia. Celestia had loved gowns, had loved feeling pretty. She had loved her sister and had loved the silly castle they’d built together so that ponies could come ask their silly questions, assuming they made it past the traps.

Princess Celestia looked perfect in nothing but her regalia. Anything more was unnecessary, and showy.

Being the only ruler changed one’s outlook on what was proper.

But, for the moment, she was not a functional part of the government. Princess Celestia was taking a leave of absence while Celestia the mare got some much-needed rest.

You don’t like to think about that time very often, do you? Astra asked in what sounded like a surprisingly quiet voice inside of Celestia’s head.

“I’m sorry, could you be a little more specific?” Celestia replied. “I’m a mare with a lot of time.”

Without even seeing it, Celestia could imagine a single raised eyebrow as Astra replied: I suppose I walked right into that one. Very well. To clarify, most of your memories are vivid, easy to recall, even very early ones. I’m talking about the times right before and after Luna... Well, you know.

“Oh,” Celestia replied, not quite knowing what to say. “No, I suppose I don’t. You should know that.”

Not really. I know as much as you’ll allow me to know, but some things... it’s like looking at the forbidden arts section of the library; meticulously organized, and every surface is plastered with warning signs.

Celestia snorted humorlessly. She was unsurprised to find that the same mind that had created a mental construct of her own personal Id had created a few more constructs around painful memories. “I’d be happy to recount something for you, if you were interested.”

Another time. It just made me curious.

The revelation was a bit odd to Celestia; the idea that the voice in her head didn’t know all that she knew.

It was difficult to grasp exactly what Astra was. At first she’d seemed antagonistic, mocking and goading Celestia in the hopes that anger might lead to her finally taking action in her nonexistent love life.

She’d spent a good amount of time thinking about the phenomenon, much as she had about her sister’s own episode, trying to trace the problem back to the source in order to learn more about it.

The schism had happened when she had learned that Twilight had once attempted a love confession to Celestia herself, and from her perspective, had been laughed at for it.

The reality had been more complicated, as a surprised Celestia receiving a Hearts and Hooves gift from her entirely-too-young-but-precious student was more than she had been prepared to deal with, and had laughed out of relief when Twilight had clarified that her intent was platonic. That didn’t stop poor Twilight from crying her eyes out that night.

You know, the dress is nice, but perhaps a nice pair of reading glasses?

Celestia looked at herself in the mirror, frowning. “Do you think that would work?”

It works for Yearling.

“Hmmm, you may have something there.”

Twilight was a very special pony to Celestia. In her long life, she’d been in love many times, had courted, and had been courted. Though she’d been unsuccessful in finding a mate in more centuries than she cared to admit, that hadn’t been what had lead to her current situation.

Love could be said to be a very special kind of madness, and in Celestia’s case, that was quite literal. She’d only begun hearing the mockery when she’d heard Twilight say that she had loved Celestia since her botched confession, and still did. The very moment that she heard it, Celestia knew in her heart of hearts that she felt the same, but had just as quickly decided that it didn’t matter.

Because Twilight was also in love with Pinkie.

I found more sections with warning signs. You have several of them, actually. Entire shelves worth.

“Everypony has painful memories, Astra,” Celestia replied as she tried on a pair of old reading glasses that had apparently gotten too scratched for Twilight to wear. She perched them on her nose, wiggling it experimentally to see if they would come off easily.

Celestia was in love with somepony who loved her for herself, something she had dreamed of for the many centuries she’d existed. With somepony who even had the potential to be greater than Celestia herself... and it didn’t matter.

All things considered, Celestia supposed it was lucky she hadn’t instantly burst into flames, raised the sun to its zenith, and declared Twilight her wife while throwing Pinkie into a dark cell.

It was a special kind of madness that saw her do something else.

I suppose a longer life leads to more regrets.

“Many more chances to make mistakes, yes,” Celestia said as she focused a tight beam of sunlight through the lenses, melting the glass within and reshaping it to allow her to see through them without magnification.

She’d decided to help the young couple with their relationship troubles, the same troubles that had lead a distraught Twilight to flee to Celestia’s lap, and tried to simply suppress her own wishes. And all the while the voice chided her for her cowardice, calling her a fool for not just taking what she wanted.

It took a shared dream created by Luna to help her find a measure of peace with herself. Within the dream, Celestia had faced down and fought her other self, and when Luna had brought Twilight and Pinkie to help with the dream, her true feelings were exposed by the entity that Celestia had named her own personal Fiend.

You’re awfully quiet.

“Just thinking, sorry.”

That should have been the end of it. Were she sane, she would have been broken-hearted, certainly, and perhaps would have nursed her emotional wounds for several lifetimes. But instead she was still in Ponyville, still engaging with both Pinkie and Twilight, both of whom had decided that she would be part of their burgeoning relationship in some manner of triangle formation. Thinking about it made her head hurt.

In short, it was a very special madness, and one she didn’t want to see end.

I suppose I can’t ask you to think out loud all of the time. It’s a habit you’ll need to break if you’re going outside. Or anywhere, really.

Celestia snorted in amusement. “True enough. Also, I should probably ask ahead of time for you not to talk while I’m holding court.”

So, in the weeks that had followed, she had been resting, and watching Twilight and Pinkie begin their relationship on firmer footing, with a better understanding of each other. Her heart was glad for them, but she was still uncertain of her own place. It was madness to think it could work.

The most special kind of madnesses.

I withhold the right to make fun of windbags and whiners.

“Well, that’s a given. Just try to save anything particularly amusing for after sessions, please. I do try not to laugh out loud at them.”

Fair enough. I wonder though, will you have as much to do at court when you get back? Assuming Luna’s restructuring of the courts worked as planned, I mean.

“At first, I would imagine even more,” Celestia replied with a grimace. “There will be backlash to Luna’s rule, and demands aplenty.”

Have you ever considered just disappearing for a lifetime to wean them off of your poor teats?

Celestia let out a sudden surprised laugh. “Okay, that’s the sort of thing you should avoid saying in public, please.”

I wasn’t joking, but I’m glad it made you laugh.

Celestia nodded to her reflection, then eyed herself in the mirror more critically. The dress covered her cutiemark well, and even she would not have assumed this tall creature was Princess Celestia. She would have wondered where this unknown princess had come from, however.

Hiding a horn the size of hers wasn’t the easiest thing to do. Simply making it invisible was possible, but not exactly ideal. In a town like Ponyville where ponies tended to average around a head or so shorter than the proud griffons and occasional Saddle Arabian visitors, there was a very real danger of scraping the tops of doorways with that proud spire on her head. It might likewise make her fail to account for its length. Rather than potentially blow her own cover by impaling said horn into something or someone, she instead used a variant of Wallflower’s Notice-Me-Not (which drew ponies’ eyes away from the object and recolored it to look like the prevalent colors behind it) combined with a weak repellent field to ensure that ponies mistook her horn for part of her mane and simultaneously avoided flying into or touching it without knowing why.

The spells, while not requiring constant maintenance, nevertheless left her feeling just a little winded. She would have preferred to have used Wallflower’s See-Me-Not (it was a much more reliable spell. It could hide anypony or object by altering the physics of light to be absorbed and recast beyond the radius of the spell), but like most spells in her repertoire, it required more energy than she had to spare.

She congratulated herself as she looked once more to see a regal looking pegasus with a swept-forward mane smiling back. Even if she knew where her horn should be, her eyes naturally slid just to the left and right of it, seeing only mane with no hint of anything else. Attempts to reach up and touch it resulted in her hoof being redirected in such a subtle fashion as to nearly convince her she’d been trying to pat at her mane instead.

Well, look at that. You could almost be your own long lost sister.

“No, that would require an awful lot of blue dye.”

You know what I mean. Astra responded testily.

Celestia nodded, shaking her hips a little to make the dress shift around in a fetching manner. She liked that it was just long enough to cover her cutie mark but still quite short, covering her flanks strategically and leaving her looking and feeling more exposed than if she’d been entirely nude.

These were not thoughts Princess Celestia normally allowed herself. She knew, empirically, that she was desirable. But feeling... naughty... was not something she was used to. She wondered idly how Twilight would react if she saw it.

Showing off a little flair, O Goddess of the Sun?

“Perhaps...” Celestia said with a little laugh. “It just... feels good.”

Yes, and looks good too. Astra replied, and for a moment Celestia heard what sounded like a thousand stallions wolf-whistling simultaneously. So, a tall leggy pegasus with a body like a supermodel’s, what are you going to call her?

“Her?” Celestia asked, raising a single eyebrow at her own reflection.

Yes, her. What do you intend to call your assumed identity? Surely you won’t introduce yourself as Celestia?

Princess Celestia wordlessly frowned at the mare in the mirror, not having a good answer and feeling slightly irritated. Still, it was better to think on the matter before she was asked and had to come up with something out of the blue.

I have a few suggestions, if you’d like to hear them...

Celestia could just imagine Astra, sitting at the her work desk as she’d found her when she’d last seen her in the dreamscape, a notepad at the ready with a list of possibilities.

She shook her head ruefully. “All right, I suppose it’s only fair since I’ve already named you twice.” Then she shook her hoof in mock-warning. “But I am vetoing Universalia from the list.”

Oh sure, spoil my fun before I even get to have it. Fine, I have other ideas.

“We could simply hire her away from her Queen.” Princess Luna said thoughtfully over the breakfast table.

“She wouldn’t hear of it. Nor would they allow her to go.” Midnight Oil replied with a shake of his head. “It’s fine, Princess. It’s not the first time and it certainly won’t be the last.”

Her breakfast companion was a middle-aged unicorn with a talent for organization who had been been Luna’s aide from the moment she had returned to Canterlot. His station had risen of late (as evidenced by the sun-emblazoned medallion he wore around his neck) but he still acted in his former capacity as a matter of course.
“I could just demand her.” Luna said, flashing him a smile that held little warmth to it. The ‘she’ in question was Eriskay of the Scoltish Isles, Representative of The Queen of Scoltland and Broker of the Scoltish Merchant Empire. “I could claim her from her Queen. Perhaps even ask for her services as a gift. If entreaties failed, I could threaten to cut ties with her nation. Her Queen is unlikely to wish to risk Our favor. And the merchants she answers to only care about their profits. They may even insist she stay to ensure Our good will.”

Midnight leveled a long stare at Luna. He had a way of knowing her mood, and could tell when she spoke in jest. She simply held his gaze for a time, never wavering.

Luna knew well how her words would affect him. In addition to being a talented civil servant, Eriskay was also Midnight’s wife, and while she and Midnight had just ended a long honeymoon, it would be some time hence before they saw one another again.

Luna also knew the pain long separations from loved ones, and more recently, the sadness of missing ponies she had great affection for. Luna hadn’t exactly had time for social visits while Midnight had been gone, or before while on her trek to Neighsia, and consequently found herself very much looking forward to possibly being able to make one with Midnight back from his trip.

Excited as she was for herself, she felt quite horrid knowing Midnight himself had months to go before being reunited with Eriskay.

“Perhaps I could send for her when she’ll be on this side of the hemisphere. I could recruit a two pairs of our fastest fliers—”

“Luna.”

“Or I could commission a portal to bring her here. Granted she may have to step into an alternate reality which may or may not involve a change of species... the one populated by dogs is quite nice, if being slightly awkward due to all of the sniffing—”

“Luna.”

“Oh! I could set up some sort of unicorn teleportation relay—”

“Luna!”

Luna looked up from the table (upon which she’d begun lining up grapes, trying to approximate the range of the average unicorn capable of teleporting themselves and one other) to see Midnight looking down at her testily. “Yes, Middy?”

“While I appreciate your concern, Eriskay is a busy mare, and she’s actually behind schedule now due to the unplanned trip to Neighsia—”

“An effort for which I will happily knight her, if she will but accept it.” Luna said quite seriously. “Her assistance was invaluable.”

“I’m certain she’ll consider the offer when she has some time away from her duties. For the moment, she still has many contracts to negotiate.”

Luna frowned as she gazed down into her coffee. She had spent a lot of time with Eriskay in their recent travels to Chineigh, and had gotten to know her as more than the prim and proper mare she presented herself as when on official business.

Luna could well understand why Middy liked her.

“Surely they could find somepony else, Middy.” Luna said petulantly.

What she did not say, what she almost felt she could not say, was that she wished for Eriskay to have a more permanent place in Canterlot for reasons that were selfish as well.

Luna liked Eriskay. She was a loyal and brave mare, with a remarkably bawdy sense of humor (after she’d had a few drinks) which had led to Luna learning more about Eriskay’s tastes in the bedroom than she had wished to. She was also a kind and forgiving mare, but most importantly, a friend. Luna had precious few of those that she knew were true, and adding another was very satisfying.

Which only made it more heartbreaking to have to watch her depart, knowing that there would be a hole left, not just in Middy's life, but her own.

“She’s not so easily replaced, I’m afraid.” Midnight replied, sounding very tired. He looked more rested than when she’d sent them both off, but there was a certain loneliness in his eyes that she’d never really seen before. Or rather, she had, but had always taken it for fatigue, or one of his headaches.

Her eyes misted as she saw him briefly touch his dress shirt with a hoof in a motion that, for an earth pony or a pegasus, would have been a simple shirt adjustment. Middy had magic for such things, he wasn’t adjusting his shirt at all. He was simply making contact with a pendant he wore underneath, the twin of which was worn by Eriskay. A simple enchantment would warm both when they were within a certain distance of one another.

Luna knew just as well as Middy did that the pendant lay cold on his chest.

He set aside the report he was looking over to eat some of his breakfast. His side of the table wasn’t terribly interesting to Luna, as it tended to have simple dishes like fruit and cereal. Her own side was now full of various choices, some of which she’d adopted from Tia’s menu after trying them out. The donuts were in plentiful supply, as were the pancakes, and a selection of preserves, syrups, and sugar of both cane and powdered varieties. Also present was French toast, though the bagels her sister favored were not to be found. Luna still resented their resemblance to her beloved donuts and did not wish to make the same mistake twice.

She picked one of the donuts up, chewing on it thoughtfully. “Not easily, no, but they will have to replace her eventually. Why not now?”

He looked up from his cereal with a baleful expression. “Luna, please do not interfere with her career.”

“I would never!” she replied with an innocent smile. “I’m simply talking about requesting a change in her duties. Having an envoy here would strengthen relations between our two nations.”

They simply held each other’s gazes for a time, Middy looking at her severely, as if he planned to scold her. Luna returned with an unrepentant and slightly smug grin. She knew very well the two wished for more time together, but neither would bend on service to their respective countries.

“Alternatively,” Luna added, still refusing to break eye contact, “I could name you ambassador to the crown, and send you off to her Scoltland.”

He actively frowned at her, but didn’t say a word in protest. “I... suppose we could give the matter some thought, after Princess Celestia returns, and the restructuring of the court system is complete.”

“That’s fine then.” Luna finished the donut, washing it down with the remainder of her coffee. “We also need to go over the final details for the visit from...” her eyes squinted as she tried to remember the name of her visitor. “Empress Zeeow May?”

“Empress Xiǎo Mǎ,” Midnight said after double-checking his report.

“Yes, her.” Luna replied. “First a Queen, now an Empress. Give a pony a mere thousand years of civilization and they fancy themselves above others.”

“Likely an inherited title.” Midnight said judiciously. “It’s not like she chose it out of the blue.”

“Tia chose ‘Princess’, said it sounded official enough without being pretentious. That and she didn’t want to hear the King of Unicornia complaining. I wanted to be a Queen, it just seems to command more respect.” Luna held her head high, staring haughtily down at a pancake before cutting into it and taking a delicate bite. “I wonder if Dear Cadence will become an Empress, now? She is ruling over an empire, after all.”

Princess Cadence, along with her spouse, had been sent to the Crystal Empire on an exploratory mission after the latter had reappeared in the middle of the frozen north. Cadence had still been on her honeymoon when she’d been contacted, and was just a bit cross until told that she would be staying in the castle for the interim. She and her husband were essentially there so that the various guards and researchers sent along to look into the matter would have somepony to report to besides Celestia herself.

“Hmmm, I suppose it’s a question she’ll need to decide for herself. And right now I don’t know that she is a ruler so much as caretaker.”

“Have they still not discovered a cure for the crystal ponies memory loss?” Luna demanded. “They’ve been studying the populace for months now.”

“Nothing yet. Traditional spells are ineffective, as if there is some malignant force at work.”

“Sombra...” Luna muttered darkly. “It would be just like him to curse his own people thusly.”

“Whatever it is, it’s beyond the researchers.”

“Well, Dear Cadence will have to persevere. And while she does, she and her Shining Armor may enjoy an extended honeymoon.”

“Speaking of, how was the ceremony for Miss Rarity and Miss Fluttershy?”

Luna’s eyes sparkled just a bit as she replied. “It was wonderful. Thank you for covering Day Court so that I might officiate.”

He blinked at her, saying only: “Of course.”

The room was silent for another moment before he said: “You can just ask, you know.”

Her wings fluttered in alarm before she calmed them down once more. “Whatever do you mean, Middy?”

He calmly placed his spoon back into the empty bowl of cereal. “You’re buttering me up for something, and since the guard wasn’t panicked when I returned, I am assuming you didn’t disappear overnight while I was gone. So, you wish for me to dismiss your guards this evening, and possibly for me to cover your Day Court duties tomorrow. Am I correct?”

Luna stared at him for a long moment before squeaking out a flustered: “Yes?”

He nodded, placing his reports in a neat stack and neatening the dishes on his side of the table. “I only ask that you take measures to ensure the sunrise happens on time. I won’t ask where you’re going, and I will inform the guards you are not to be followed. Will that suffice?”

“Yes!” Luna said just a little louder than she might have liked. “I mean... That is precisely what I wish. Thank you, Middy.”

“You have already thanked me. I had no idea how badly I needed some time off.” He stood, stretching slowly to the tips of his hooves, then rotated his neck around to get the kinks out, letting out a loud yawn. “But, it’s time to get back to work. I won’t begrudge you for taking time off for yourself, however. You’ve certainly earned it.”

Luna wasn’t quite certain she had earned much of anything, but she was more than willing to accept his offer. Truthfully, after her trip to the dragon lands to treat with the Dragon Lord, she’d been left feeling like she had actually fought old Torch himself. It had very nearly come to war between ponies and dragons, and Eriskay’s efforts to mediate might have gone in vain if not for the giant cake kept on the airship. Luna had hoped to present it as a gift after securing Torch’s promise of an alliance, but it worked just as well as a bribe. Dragons were very prone to motivations like greed, after all.

The subsequent travels to the eastern continent of Neighsia to end the threat of Yinglong (hopefully for good) had ended with her feeling both elated and utterly exhausted. She’d followed that with two weeks of running Canterlot without Middy or her sister to aid her, since she’d sent Middy and Eriskay off to Las Pegasus to have a belated honeymoon of their own. While all of that was nowhere near what her sister had gone through in her absence, she still felt more than ready to take a day off. She just hoped any ponies experiencing nightmares would forgive her.

But, whether they would forgive her or not, she intended to attend a party this evening with two dear friends, and trusted that Middy would keep the world from burning in the meanwhile. He’d proven his worth in that regard more than once.

He left her with a deferential nod, which she returned in kind. As her sister’s Voice he was technically her equal, making even that unnecessary, but he was insistent on that much, since she had forbidden him to kneel or bow.

She finished her breakfast in silence, then teleported up to her bedroom, casting a simple ward on the door to alert her should anypony attempt to open it or knock on it. Having secured the only point of entry, she sat down at the large work desk in the room and rummaged around until she found the scroll she was looking for.

It was an unassuming thing, with no seal pressed upon it. She’d found it waiting on her balcony one morning, which was quite a feat, because the balcony was quite possibly more heavily warded than the forbidden arts wing of the library.

She’d been mildly alarmed at first, until she found the small card with the black hoofprint lying next to the scroll. On the opposite side of the card was a simple message:

—Call upon us at need—

The print on the card had offered no other clue as to who it had been left by, but had not needed any. The missive had been delivered by an organization she was familiar with, at the very least. They were good, very good, if they managed to breach her defences enough to leave this.

The scroll offered even less information about the sender, but that was to be expected of a pony who hired assassins to deliver a simple message.

My Little Princess,

It has been too long. Is that presumptuous to say? I say it anyway. It’s been too long, Princess. I miss you.

I would like to apologize if my method of delivery of this message disturbed you in any way. I did not wish to cause a scene by attempting to see you at court, nor did I wish for your staff to question why I would ask for a private audience. Instead, I made contact with the ponies you sent after us, though they complained they did not do this sort of thing. If you see this message, you see they do, when offered enough.

I recognize that you are very busy of late, but if you can find the time I would greatly enjoy your company. We could make ready the guest room as you wish. Perhaps breakfast? Please come?

Your friend.

P.S. He would scold me for this if he knew, and I do not care.

P.P.S. I do care somewhat, but I miss you more. Please come.

She’d read the little note many times since receiving it. There was no question in her mind who the friend was, and she was mildly amused to see such care being used to maintain secrecy.

The paper smelled faintly of Fleur, bringing to mind fond memories of long talks that went on well past when the other guests had gone, then following Fleur and her husband up to their chambers for nightcaps, dismissing the servants—

Then the teasing, that infectious laugh, the gaze that was both casually possessive yet adoring, saying ‘You are mine, but I would do anything you ask of me.’—

And after it all, the afterglow, snuggled in between them both with a smile of utter contentment.

She let out a sigh, clutching the letter tightly to her chest. It had been some time. It had been too long.

There had been a time when she had feared what Fleur had offered, then she had taken it for granted, thinking Fleur offered something she did not hold dear to herself, something she gave to any guest she invited to join her and Fancy for the evening.

She was still uncertain of what to make of the knowledge that, without even having been offered it, she possessed Fleur’s heart. And while it came with the knowledge that Fancy was still an owner of that selfsame heart, she now felt a certain responsibility that she had not before. She was not just a guest after all.

It was worrisome, but also humbling, and wonderful, in a certain way. Going to see her friends had been a way to get away from other troubles, knowing there was nothing expected of her, but now...

It’s been too long, Princess.

That simple sentence spoke volumes to Luna. It had worried her somewhat, that perhaps her dear friend was deeply saddened, or was thinking that Luna did not wish to see her again. The idea that Fleur was hurting in any way tore at Luna’s own heart.

Fancy had told her she bore no obligation to Fleur, that Fleur’s feelings were her own worry. She did not yet know if the feeling was mutual... But Luna definitely had an affection for both of them, of that much she was certain, and when a pony you have affection for hurts, it hurts you as well.

Luna unfortunately hadn’t had time to even respond to the letter, much less act on the invitation. The needs of the nation were such that she did not understand how Celestia had borne the weight for so long. Now matter how she tried, she could not find a free night to get away, and she dared not simply slip away without notice.

But thanks to Middy, she could do both at last. She took out a blank scroll and penned:

Dame,

I am sorry for not having answered sooner. I will gratefully accept your invitation this evening. Expect me after moonrise. I won’t be needing the guest room this eve.

Please have your maid inform your cooks I would like French Toast in the morning. And coffee. Coffee is very important.

-L

P.S. If he scolds you, he may punish me, for I am to blame.

P.P.S. Your punishment will be to watch while he punishes me. If you are a good girl you can be punished too.

She rolled up the scroll, pressing her seal into it. Then she hit it with a lick of magical dragonfire and sent it on its way.

Her relief was palpable as she watched the scroll burn up and drift away in a waft of smoke. She had a few other matters to attend to that day. She wanted to check on the road construction to gauge their progress, and after that, Day Court. After that she had lunch, and finally, she wanted to take some time to visit Tiberius and the other animals in her private Night Garden.

Provided there were no pressing matters that required her immediate attention, that left her with the rest of the afternoon to get ready for her visit, and some time before everything else to pick out an outfit.

“Something form-fitting...” she murmured as she looked through what had become a very extensive collection thanks to Rarity’s efforts. She finally found a silver gown that shimmered in the sunlight that would almost appear to glow with the smallest amount of moonlight. It hugged her hips and would have started wars in her era.

“Yes... you are going to be so much fun to peel off later.”