Back on the barren, dusty plains between the Cadiz mountains and the frontier of Equestria, the sounds of argument filled the dry night air.

“But when you arrive, what plan will you contrive?” Zecora asked.

“If thou dost truly love and honor me so much,” Luna retorted, “then why dost thou presume I do not already have a plan?”

“It is out of that respect,” said Zecora, “that I wish you to reflect. You may have a plot. I do know not. But in the past, you have acted quite fast. With danger you always flirt, and that leads you to be hurt.”

“I am the master of my pain.” Luna pointedly ignored the re-bandaged wing that was bound in a sling at her side and the chafe of scars all over her skin. “I use it or discard it as I see fit. I do not cower in fear from it, nor should any who aspire to great deeds.”

“What, then, of death? All is done, after your last breath.”

Luna frowned and began to fiddle with the weight distribution of the packs and bags she was carrying. “That is exactly why 'twould be better for thee to stay behind,” she said once her thoughts were gathered, though she continued to occupy herself with her packs. “The danger of death is far greater for thee.”

“You know I cannot leave your side,” Zecora said, reaching over to help adjust Luna's luggage, “after all we have chosen to confide.”

Working together, they managed an arrangement that was well-balanced, while also minimizing discomfort to the Luna's healing body. She spoke her gratitude, then continued walking, looking up at the stars as they rolled ever-so-slowly by far above her. Her blinks, along with her breaths, grew long and languid.

“I know it may hurt to say,” Zecora said, breaking the brief silence, “but you regret our trust, plain as day.”

Luna's eyes traced over a constellation as her heart sunk to the pit of her stomach. The urge to tell reassuring lies was quickly overwhelmed by the memory of the peace she had felt while meditating on elemental Honesty with Zecora. She recalled being the fruit of the tree, and she recalled the longing it felt to fall and be free.

“Aye,” she finally replied, “in some ways. In placing my blood and honor on thy side without truly knowing thy past, I may have erred. I feel a deep, dark certainty that thou wilt hurt me in some manner before all is said and done.” She lowered her head so that she could look over at Zecora, who was gazing silently toward the horizon. Zecora felt the look, but continued staring ahead, fidgeting with the jewelry that covered her scars in between steps.

“But all I can do is hope that that pain will not cut too deeply,” Luna continued, drawing her eyes slowly along every part of her companion, as if trying to memorize her. “'Tis too late to forget it all. I have come to care for thee too much, and my life and duty have become too entwined with thine. I am sure many would think this a foolish path, but I learned long ago to trust my heart above all else in this world.”

Zecora's only reply was to turn to look at Luna as she finished her speech, and to blush under her scrutiny. They continued to walk through the night, the air heavy with things that could have been said. When dawn broke and the time came to rest, they did not embrace each other as usual. They laid on the ground, both of them tossing and turning, failing to sleep. Eventually, Luna reached over to gently cradle Zecora's hooves in hers. They both sighed heavily and closed their eyes after that, sleeping much more soundly than either expected to.

The next few nights of travel were still somewhat uneasy, but they were not devoid of happiness. Zecora shared a few humorous stories she knew, eliciting some chuckles from Luna. She also took care to change the bandages on the Princess's wing regularly. Though it was healed enough to barely need the attention after the first night, Luna did not object, and even subtly leaned into the tender ministrations. They spoke of little else besides directions and basic survival, but they both visibly brightened each time the other's voice pierced the dull noise of the constant wind.

One night, as the two reached the top of the first hill, Luna's heart jumped, threatening to leap out of her throat. In the distance, far beyond what non-nocturnal eyes would be able to see, she got a glimpse of tall, emerald grass. It smelled like rich, tilled soil and sunlight, even after the sun had set. It was Equestrian grass. Her hooves felt almost itchy, and her lustrous tail came under fleeting conscious control to show her excitement with some subtle swaying.

“Zecora,” she said with a broad smile. “I am going to run. Come catch me, or continue walking. It matters not to me.” Luna then bolted forward, slowed only slightly from her full speed by the weight of all the baggage she was carrying. She hardly noticed the burden though. Her thoughts were consumed with the idea of having her home beneath her feet again. She was, however, keenly aware of the loud, breathless laughter with which her mouth was filling the empty night.

“Head starts are not fair, you sneaky mare!” Zecora was some yards distant, but still close enough to yell and be heard over the pounding of Luna's hooves on the earth.

Luna simply cackled and pushed herself harder, until she was at last surrounded by high walls of grass. She galloped through them with her eyes closed, her wings twitching as they tried to unfold and carry her away into the sky. She ignored them so that she could instead take in the comforting, giving feel of the soil below. Not even a fleeting thought of Celestia, and how the two of them used to run together like this, could take away the effect that coming home of her own free will had on her. It was only her and the earth.

After a few minutes of freedom from thought, she realized she could no longer hear Zecora running behind her. Reluctantly, she slowed down and veered her course into a constant angle, so that she was cantering in a circle in the middle of the dark, lonely field. Panting, she waited for Zecora to catch up with an enormous grin on her face.

“Avaunt, my friend!” she called out. “The world waiteth not!”

Luna strained her eyes around her, but could not make out even the faintest rustle of grass that wasn't caused by her. She did take notice of a pebble-sized sack suddenly flying at her though, with enough warning for her to put up a magical shield to block it. She cursed as the thud of the bag falling onto the ground was followed by a blinding flash of green, alchemical light, dazing her. Exotic, playful laughter then ran past her, growing faint as it disappeared ahead.

“Cheater!” Luna barked at full volume, bolting off in the direction of the sound even before the brief effects of the flash wore off. She stumbled slightly, but her keen hearing and instinctual connection with the ground kept her on her feet and in more or less the right direction.

Though slightly annoyed by the trick, Luna couldn't help but smile. All ya gotta do is have the right attitude, the voice inside her said in a drawling accent she had only encountered once before. Loosen up a bit. Be positive. Play a few games. Have some fun.

Is it truly this easy for most ponies? her own voice countered. Should it be?

The reflection was making her fall behind, and she could not have that. Redoubling her efforts, she tore through the field as fast as she could. As soon as she could see the black, white, and gold blur of Zecora ahead of her, Luna cast a levitation spell to remove the bags from her own side, then reached out with her magic to unburden Zecora as well. The zebra looked around in surprise as a soft azure aura divested her of her luggage.

She was even more surprised when a dark shape descended from the heavens and landed on top of her, driving her to the ground. She knew it was Princess Luna, but instinct kicked in and she started to wrestle against her attacker. The two of them rolled in the dirt as they struggled for position.

Luna's movements were held back. She could easily win if she wanted to, but it seemed like she wanted to play instead. Zecora became even more sure of that when Luna began to giggle. Zecora joined in with the fit of laughter, even though it was taking all of her strength to fend the Princess off even momentarily.

Zecora could resist no more, and found herself shoulder-pinned under a grinning, panting Luna. Their faces were close enough that their heavy breathing rustled the soft hair on the coats of their necks. The twinkling stars in Luna's mane sparked as they brushed against Zecora's skin, sending light static shocks through both of them. Zecora's eyes searched the face of her companion, darting between her deep, passionate eyes and her lips. Luna froze.

“No,” she said. Her grin disappeared, and she heaved herself back up. She took a few steps backwards and repeated herself. “No.”

Zecora's wounded frown lasted for only a fraction of a second before it was replaced by her usual blank, mysterious smile, but it was long enough to make Luna turn and begin to walk away, just in time to hide the tears that welled up in her eyes. She cast a burst of magic, causing the pair's luggage to teleport to where they were standing. She saddled herself in silence, and Zecora rolled onto her hooves and did the same with movements that she had to force steady.

Luna's ears perked up sharply at the sounds of shouting and metallic clanging in the distance. There were few times in her life when she had been more relieved to hear the sound of battle. She took off in its direction, leaving Zecora behind, bewildered and even more hurt, as the noise was still too distant for her less-sensitive hearing to pick up. After a second of shuffling indecision, Zecora ran after Luna anyway.

They could both smell the scene long before they could see it. It smelled like the burning furnace of a train, mixed with heated metal and singed flesh and hair. Luna spread her wings and let the speed of her gallop lift her upwards, then flapped them furiously onward when she saw what was happening.

A group of pony soldiers, lightly armed and bearing the blood-drop insignia of House Blueblood, was engaged in a melee at a crossroads with a pack of carbon dogs—mindless cousins of the diamond dogs, whose blood was made of pure fire. The dogs snarled and snapped in raging bloodlust, which some said was caused by the constant sensation of their bodies burning. They dug their charred black teeth into any living thing they could reach, which, Luna noted with relief, did not include the two fragile, elderly stallions who cowered to the side of the road.

Luna had only heard of carbon dogs before from Celestia, and from what she had learned, they had never been spotted outside of the Everfree Forest. She tried to figure out how they could have gotten here, hundreds of miles from that accursed place, in the minute it took her to reach the site of the battle, but she could not.

The heat from the five dogs was so intense that there was a rolling haze over the whole area, giving a mirage-like quality to the eight ponies fighting. Luna was surprised by their tactics, with deft strikes, nimble dodges, and no sounds from their mouths except a code of whistles they were using to indicate threats and maneuvers.

One of them stood out from the rest. He had either lost or not worn his helmet. The formerly styled blonde locks of his mane were matted to his recently groomed white coat by sweat and heat. His determined scowl made the disfiguring scar running across his rugged features deform his face even further. He was not exactly ideally handsome in this moment, but as he leaped in the way of an attack on one of his allies, letting the dog's bite melt through his armor in order to drive the blade in his teeth through its heart, there was something primal and mythic about him. Thanks to the waving heat around him, he shimmered in the night like the reflection of the moon on a dark pool of water, and Princess Luna was mesmerized. The distant but noticeable ache of desire in her jaw shook her out of the momentary trance, and she dove in to join the battle.

To her slight dismay, it barely lasted long enough for all of the ponies to realize that she was there. She got in a pair of extremely satisfying kicks on one of the pack, shattering the coal of its bones and causing its inner fire to fizzle out, before the violent work was done. She turned and, oblivious to the stares of the other soldiers, locked gazes with the sky-colored eyes of Blueblood the Younger. He stared back, and somehow managed to smile with a sword held in his mouth. He replaced the weapon in its scabbard and was about to speak, but the moment was interrupted by a voice from underneath one of the helmets.

“You pin-headed ponce!” a young mare shouted. “We could have finished forty seconds earlier and without your buddy there getting a chunk of his flank bitten off if you hadn't charged in too early and ruined my shot!”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” he said with sonorous sarcasm and arrogance. “Was I too—”he whipped his head back, causing his shining mane to fall perfectly back into place behind his ears—”distracting?”

The mare who spoke took her helmet off and threw it to the side, revealing a short, vibrant red mane, and a slightly darker shade of red for her coat. Combined with the voice, Luna's memory clicked. It was Quicktail, the head of the highway robbers who had accosted her and Zecora on the journey out of Equestria. Luna was sure that the same cutie mark, the burning ring of fire, was hidden underneath the mare's ill-fitting guardpony armor.

“No, just tactically dense,” she replied as two other ponies, two of the same bandits Luna and Zecora had defeated, also removed their helmets. Her former followers nodded in agreement, while Blueblood and the four remaining ponies that Luna didn't recognize—militia, she assumed—tensed up. “And dense in a lot of other ways too.”

“Be that as it may,” Blueblood said dismissively, “we have some frightened civilians to comfort. Pardon me.” He turned his back to her and strode toward where the two elder ponies stood. They were no longer shaking, but they still looked around in a confused squint.

“Oh yeah, real noble of you,” said Quicktail. “You're just doing that because the Princess is here. Hi Luna.” She nodded in Luna's direction while the rest of the ponies went down on bended knee. Blueblood began speaking to the old ponies in a low voice while Luna responded to the greeting.

“Thou art lucky that we have had a mostly good night,” she said darkly, “or we would be greatly displeased by thy lack of respect. Hail.”

“You know I'd never intentionally do anything to displease you, Your Highness.” Quicktail's voice approached half-sincerity, though the majority of it was still mocking. “Neither would my boys, right?”

The two ponies she gestured toward, a chestnut colt with a long, luxurious tail that was normally only fashionable among mares, and a bay stallion with piercings all over his ears and nose—all of which were currently empty except for one ear-ring—both laughed nervously.

“We are pleased to hear that,” said the Princess with a stony stare. She turned her attention toward her companions. “You fought bravely, for brigands. Tell us your names, that we might honor you as well.”

“Locke,” said the younger pony with the long tail, scratching at the ground with his hoof and avoiding Luna's eyes.

“We are not brigands—” Quicktail interjected.

“And I am Cider Pop, or just Pop,” said the bay pony, talking over Quicktail. “In fact, it would probably be best if you only used 'Pop' in any official commendations. My family doesn't like to be reminded that I exist.”

“Duly noted,” said Luna. “Excuse us for a moment, we must speak with our subjects over yonder.”

She tipped her horn to them, and then strolled over to where Blueblood was conversing with the elderly pair, who had wrapped their forelegs around each other's shoulders for support. Along the way, she looked around for Zecora, whom she spotted bent over one of the carbon dogs, scraping some of its scorched fur into a pouch. She reasoned herself out of her instinctive revulsion by reminding herself that all of Zecora's concoctions had been useful so far.

“—our deepest thanks, young man,” one of the earth pony stallions was saying. “You remind me of our son.”

“Your son?” Luna asked. “Are you not both males?”

“Look at that, Moss!” The one whose cutie mark displayed a blue-and-white-striped lighthouse gasped, pointing a hoof at Luna's mane. “The stars are so bright tonight, I feel like I could almost reach out and touch them.”

“You're as blind as you are crazy,” said the other, whose flank bore the image of a bed of crimson flowers. He turned to Luna and Blueblood. “Don't mind Alexander. He's gone a bit senile in his old age and ow—!” He yelped as Alexander bit into his neck with a playful grin.

“It's a sign,” said Alexander, after the bite. “Prince Blueblood was meant to save us, so we could make it to the lighthouse in time.”

Blueblood posed and preened, and much of the attraction Luna felt toward him drained away like water through a sieve.

“We shouldn't even have needed to be saved!” Moss stamped a frail old hoof on the ground. “When we were fillies there wasn't anything more dangerous than bunny rabbits on this road! What in the name of Celestia is going on?”

“Calm down, Moss.” Alexander nuzzled his partner's cheek. “You're going to give yourself another heart attack.”

“Who cares? It's almost our time anyway...”

“Tell us,” said Luna, “wherefore are you venturing so far anyway? This road runneth along the very border of Equestria.”

“We're going to the lighthouse on the southern shore,” Alexander said wistfully. “I think it must be... forty years ago, we found our son there, left all alone next to the sea. We raised him there, and it's where we had to place his grave a few years ago too. This will be our last trip.”

“Even if it weren't for the rampaging monsters,” Moss added. “No pony should outlive their children, and it seems like our bodies agree on that score.”

“I am sorry for your loss,” Luna said gently. “Let us take you there in safety, gentle sirs. 'Tis not long out of our way.”

“What did you say?” Zecora seemed to slide in from the shadows of the night, momentarily startling everyone but Luna. “I thought you could make no delay?”

“This is my duty, Zecora,” Princess Luna said with an annoyed twitch of her ear. “I cannot simply leave these ponies here.”

“Ladies, if I may,” Blueblood said, stepping between them with a debonair smile. “I'll take them there with my patrol, so you can go on your important Princess business.”

“Excuse me!?” Quicktail shouted, stomping over. “We need to take these crazy coots—no offense—back to the garrison so we can get on with the patrol. What if there are more of those things out here?”

“Then it's a good thing an amazing warrior and his entourage are here to protect them, isn't it?” answered Blueblood, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Oh, for crying out l—okay, fine.” She shook her head. “You're the boss.”

“That is a noble offer, young Blueblood,” Luna said, the drain of her attraction starting to close up slightly. “We are pleased that thy priorities have not been sullied by too much emphasis on rigid duty. Only let us have a moment alone with our subjects first.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” he said, and rejoined his party, followed closely by Quicktail, whose lip was curled up into a look of disgust that seemed to have seen a lot of use lately.

“Thou as well, Zecora. Please.”

Zecora nodded slowly before retreating in a different direction from the others. Her smile remained, but her ears appeared to drop ever so slightly.

Once she was alone with Moss and Alexander, Luna lowered herself onto her knees, so that she could more easily see into their eyes. “Do you mind if we speak of personal matters for but a moment?”

“Sure, why not?” Moss said. “You seem like a polite young lady.”

“It's getting close, though, my dear husband,” Alexander whispered. “We need to be there tonight.”

“Hey, we'll make it. Quit being such a negative nelly.”

“What was your son's name?” Luna asked quietly.

“We called him Beacon,” said Alexander. “He was our little star. I only wish he'd found somepony special to share his light with before he was called back. Maybe had children as well.”

“I want to state, for the record, that he came up with the name,” Moss put in quickly. “It just sort of stuck after that.”

“Thou seemest fascinated with stars, Alexander.” Luna sat down and looked up at the sky with a trace of longing on her face. The couple shared a look, then shrugged and sat down too as she continued. “I am as well. Gigantic balls of light, heat, and power, burning so brightly that they can be seen throughout the universe. They do not intend for their light to be used to guide us. Indeed, many stars some consider to be part of 'constellations' are in fact unfathomably far apart, so far that it would take aeons of travel without a moment's rest to reach each other. Yet their light guides us all the same. Beautiful, is it not?”

The other two could hold back no longer, and finally burst out into wheezing, hacking laughter. Luna flushed, and for a fraction of a second, she felt like a filly who had said something an adult would describe as “precious.” She had not felt anything close to that sensation since she was, in fact, a filly, a time which was so heavily obscured by mental fog that it would take a great deal of effort to recall much of anything.

“W-What are you laughing at?” She tried to keep the anger out of her voice, but something in her tone still must have caused them to cease laughing.

“I'm sorry, dear,” Moss explained. “It's just that everypony knows that stars are the great herd of our ancestors and descendants, watching over us. What you said sounded like something you'd hear out of a beatnik teacher at Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns.”

“I see...” Luna muttered, looking down at her hooves.

“She might be right,” Alexander said, scooting over to her and resting a hoof on her shoulder. “We don't know. That's just what makes the most sense to me, considering how often shooting stars show up when ponies are born or die.”

“Actually, that is...” Luna stopped herself. They clearly did not recognize her, even up this close. Why would they believe she could control the night sky? “Would you like to hear... a dream I once had, about shooting stars?”

“Yes,” said Alexander. “And we won't laugh this time. Promise.” He poked Moss in the side pointedly, who feigned shock and offense.

“I dreamed that some of them are not actually stars 'tall, but collections of earth, gas, and water spinning 'round the sun, just as our world does. When they are far from the sun, they are hard, cold, and invisible to us. Every once in a long while, they approach our great star, and its heat causes them to melt and burn, creating vast trails of glowing stardust behind them. That is when we see their streaks across the night.

“There are... some that say that the Princess of the Night can control how fast or slow they move across the sky. Yet eventually, all must go. However, when they do, they do not burn up and die as meteorites do. They simply freeze again, hiding from us, but they are still there, always. They can be counted upon to return one night.”

She paused for a moment, and then voiced the sick fear that she had been suppressing since Zecora had told her the truth about her meeting with Luna's ancient apprentices. “And soon one draws near, which I do greatly fear.” Luna remembered that, for once, she wasn't speaking to Zecora, and looked away from the sky, back to them. “But that is nothing you need be concerned about. Forgive an old mare for rambling.”

“Nonsense,” said Alexander, and Moss nodded his head in agreement, to his surprise. “That was beautiful. And you're not old at all! You couldn't be a day over thirty.”

“And just Beacon's type too,” Moss added with a smirk that was at once dirty, happy, and sorrowful.

Luna laughed, loudly and sincerely. “That may be right.” She stood up, still laughing and not knowing why. “Forgive my outburst. I have been extremely emotional lately...”

“It makes sense,” Alexander said with a soft smile. “Moss is a dirty old stallion, after all. He has made even the purest snow laugh before.”

“Hey!” his husband protested. He thought a moment. “Okay, that’s fair, actually.”

“Before I go, will you answer me another question?” Luna inquired, finally choking down her chuckling. They both nodded even as they playfully kicked and bit at each other. “How did Beacon die?”

Their laughter stopped, but the couple still continued sneaking in occasional nips with an almost youthful energy. “He got lost in the Everfree Forest,” Alexander answered. “We didn't—stop it, Moss!—we didn't see him again until the meteor shower the following night.”

Luna looked down at them with a melancholy frown. “I see. Once again, I am sorry for your loss. Talking with you has been a great comfort for me, and I hope I have offered you some small measure of the same.”

“Actually, now that you mention it, yeah,” Moss said with a quizzical turn of his head. “I haven't felt this lively since, well, since Beacon was around. Did you cast some kind of funky spell on us?”

“Don't be rude, Moss. She clearly didn't.”

“Oh, how would you know? You're the one who thought the stars were so close you could touch them.”

“They are! Look!” Alexander reached out and touched Luna's mane, causing the magical stars near his hoof to shift and spark.

Both Alexander and Moss squinted and stared as Luna quickly turned out of his reach.

“I know you saw that.”

“Saw what?” asked Moss innocently.

“Oh, come on!”

Luna graciously took her leave of them, walking over to where Blueblood's party was just finishing dressing their light wounds and re-arming themselves.

“See those two to the lighthouse safely,” Luna commanded, loud enough for all of them to hear. “It is important. You will all be rewarded for your deeds this night when next we have the opportunity. We thank you for your service to Equestria.”

All the ponies bowed to her, even Quicktail—although her bow was accompanied by subdued mumbling—and then Luna set off down the road. Zecora silently slid in next to her, and Luna acknowledge her presence with a slow nod.

“Now why didn't she let me talk to them too?” Blueblood was asking as the adventurers left.

“Maybe because she realized that you were only doing what you thought would earn her favor?” Quicktail offered.

“Do you really think I'm that shallow?” he asked, with a completely un-ironic look of shock on his face.

“Isn't there a fancy word for questions like that? 'Theatrical' or some such?”

“The word you're looking for, my dear,” Blueblood said patronizingly, “is 'rhetorical', and I was—hey!”

Luna, picking up the conversation and the ensuing laughter from Quicktail and her two comrades, shook her head as her mouth bent into a tiny, unbidden smile.

Luna set the pace of the next several nights of travel as fast as she guessed that Zecora could comfortably go. It was not as fast as she would have been alone, but she was still impressed by her companion's increasing stamina. Luna was further impressed by the fact that she never once complained. What Zecora eventually did bring up was worse, in some ways.

“About what may have been a kiss,” she said during one of their meal breaks, “will you please just listen to this?”

Luna's eyebrows furrowed, but she gave a slight nod of assent.

“I am already over it,” Zecora said, smiling placidly. “But don't be confused by that nit-wit. He cares for nothing but himself. Take care, lest he put your heart on his shelf.”

“Such words of jealousy do a poor job of convincing me that thou art 'over it',” Luna said doubtfully.

“It was friendly advice.” She shrugged. “You will not hear the subject twice.”

“Good,” said Luna, chomping fiercely on her ration of grass. “With what is to come, I have no need of any such distractions, nor dost thou. Tomorrow evening we should clear and focus our spirits. I cannot begin to guess what powers over the mind my pupils may have developed. I believe that another round of meditation is in order, before we begin the last leg of our journey back to the Everfree. Thou dost not have to join me in the trance, but... 'twould mean much to me.” Luna's annoyance softened, and a foreleg twitched as its instinct to reach out and touch Zecora was only barely overridden.

“I will meditate on my own,” Zecora replied, “but when you fight, you won't be alone.”

“I suppose that is all I can expect at the moment.” Luna's eyes dropped to the ground. “I thank thee.”

Their meals finished, the pair sat up again and resumed running through the night. Luna drew what comfort she could from the light of the moon and stars, and the warmth of the soil, and she tried not to think of the coming comet that may be the signal the Academicians had told Zecora to watch for. Meanwhile, Zecora felt the itch of the scars on her neck more acutely than ever.

Author's Notes:

I probably should have noted this a while ago, but FiMFiction didn't have author's notes until recently, so I didn't think of it. "Thou" is second person singular, and "you" is the archaic plural form of it. So Luna's speech there isn't inconsistent. When she says a variation of "thou", she is speaking to one character. When she says "you", she is speaking to multiple characters. As for her slipping in and out of the royal we, she generally tries to only use it when she is addressing groups of subjects she doesn't know personally. But unlike her use of second person pronouns, this is something she's actually struggling with in the story, so having some inconsistency is deliberate.