//------------------------------// // Chapter 4 // Story: All Good Things // by Jasmine_Vonstarlight //------------------------------// All Good Things Chapter 4 /Celestia’s Point of View\ As Luna’s tears and screams flow freely into my embrace, I myself find that I am on the verge of tears. I cradle her gently and stroke her mane, rocking her and whispering the sorts of things one would sooth a filly with. I had heard her yelling out in pain and shouting my name from across the castle, and frankly, I was afraid she accidentally lopped off one of her hooves or something. Her anguish attracted not only myself, but a fair number of maids, and a considerable amount of royal guards, thinking that their fair princess was being assaulted. When they saw that it was just a nightmare, they were more than relieved, but kept their distance when they saw me galloping full speed through the door, diving into her bed and shaking her vigorously in an attempt to wake her from her dream. Many of them still remained to make sure she was okay, and the guards went on a temporary high alert in an attempt to make Luna feel a bit more safe. Luna is starting to quiet down a couple of notches, but is still crying a considerable amount, saying things like, “Tia... please don’t let her get me”, and “it hurts, Tia, it hurts...” “What hurts, Lulu?” She flinched at the name, which surprises me. Hasn’t that always been our childhood nickname for her? What exactly just happened in her dream? “My... my, eyes...m-my head, t-tummy, and...” I bring her closer with a calming “shhhh”, and continue rocking her. As the maids walk in and ask if there is anything she needs, I request a glass of warm milk and Luna’s security blanket; a relic from years of old. I decide to spend the rest of the night with Luna since we had already slept through the entire day after her arrival, but also since I believe she needs me in this moment. I figure it would be best to lance the blister now and ask her what happened in her dream, rather than bring it up tomorrow and make her literally relive a nightmare. Through her sobs, I ask, “Why do they hurt, sister?”, careful not to say ‘Lulu’. With speach broken by sobs, she replies, “S-she took her, her horn and, and s-stabbed me in m” “WHO did?” I ask hastily. “The... the other me...” she responds, but her eyes begin to well up again as she starts crying again. She finds comfort in my embrace as I encircle her in my wings. She couldn't possibly mean Nightmare Moon, could she? I can see why she would appear in her dreams, but still... What did she mean when she said she was stabbed? “Why did she want to stab you?” “She's mad at me...”, I give her an inquisitive look, and she continues sobbing. “She, she held me up, with... with her m-magic, and she...” I cut her off because I'm crying now too, I've always hated when she had nightmares, or to be honest, whenever anything scared her. I've always been motherly to Luna, without sacrificing the identity and attitude of a big sister. “You're safe here Lulu”, I say as I nuzzle her softly, “between my magic, the guards, and all the ponies of Equestria, no- one is going to let anyone get you”, I say with a reassuring smile as a few tears drop from my eyes. The maid I sent out earlier returned with a glass of milk and Luna's blanket, and I quietly thank her as I take the things from her with my magic. Luna looks up, her face damp, and as I hand her the navy blue, moon- and- star adorned piece of soft fabric, she becomes noticeably more calm. I lay down and let her sit up against me while she drinks from the glass. In a strange way, this makes me very happy, definitely not because of the circumstance, but because of the bonding we are able to have. Luna is back to being my little Lulu, and I get to be a mischievous big sister all over again. But just how young has she been regressed? Judging from her fright, her size, and how quickly she took to her object of security alone, I would guess that this was the age where the jealousy start to come over her. Was she really this young when she first started feeling resentment? How could I have been so blind! She’s only a filly... She’s my filly. I ignite the torches littering her walls to shed more light onto the room than the moonlight alone. I could see that she was starting to calm down, as her sobbing had ceased, and was deeply cuddled into me, with her eyes still damp, but producing far less tear than before. “Why is she mad at me?”, she asks innocently. “I think she’s just angry because of how pure and incorruptible you are, Lulu”. I say, gazing at her with a motherly look. “What does in... incer... in, that word mean?” My goodness, she really has regressed back to her years as a filly. “Incorruptible means that somepony is pure of heart, and innocent, and kind and fair to all ponies, just like you”, I reply with a warm nuzzle. “Are you mad at me?” “My dear sister, nothing you could do would ever make me mad”, I say comfortingly as I draw her into a deep hug. I help her finish off her milk and I tell the entourage of ponies outside (looking longingly at the adorable scene unfolding) that I have everything under control, and they can go back to sleep. I lay her back down while she takes a corner of her blanket in her muzzle, and within short order, she drifts into a much more peaceful and pleasant dream. After tonight’s incident, I think it would be beneficial for her to meet her caretaker and the royal psychologist, as I have an inkling that she will be spending a considerable amount of time with both. The caretaker was a hoary with age unicorn named Busy Body, a hard working butler who was my personal aide for quite some time. He had a white mane with a dark grey coat, and deep set eyes with age lines and wrinkles extending down his face. Covering most of his lower face was a thick mustache that one may expect to find on the muzzle of an old chocolatier or Santa Hooves. He was a kindly old pony, but I don’t wish to use the word ‘old’. He continues to prove his youthfulness, and I fully expect him to have gone grey early in his years, while obtaining the wisdom of an older mage. I expect Luna would take to him in a heartbeat, and vice versa. The psychologist was also a unicorn, but much skinnier, and had a burnt orange coat with a messy, unkempt mane of dark brown. He went by the name of Doctor Sigmund, although his given name was Sigmund Von Smarty Pants. Apart from being an extremely intelligent pony, he spoke with a thick foreign accent (Author’s note: GERMAN), and attracted patients from across the whole land. He was very good with fillies, and knew what makes them tick and how their precious minds work. Out of all the doctors in Equestria, I would trust none more than he to take care of my little Luna. Cradling Luna in my hooves, watching her sleep, I realize once again how fragile and small she was, and is once again. I get to do it all over again, all the years we lost, they’re mine once again. I wipe the remnants of dried tears from her little face, now noticing that as she peacefully slumbers, a slime is forming around the fabric in her mouth.