Tap-tap-tap went the spoon as it opened the top of the soft-boiled egg. The silver implement was surrounded with by Celestia’s golden aura as it was wielded with surgical precision against the porcelain shell. As the breakfast task continued, Celestia began humming in time with the miniature blows. Luna’s left eye twitched as she recognized the beat of the ancient earth-pony tune; her head automatically supplying the lyrics.
The old gray mare she
ain’t what she used to be
ain’t what she used to be
ain’t what she used to be
A shadow-gripped butter knife, butter included, parried the topping spoon; ending the song. Forcing her eyes and mind to shift away from the white ovoid that had momentarily become her entire universe, Celestia was confronted by her sister’s dark face. “Mostly dark,” Celestia corrected herself. The gray ash that coated the solar alicorn from nose to dock was light and fine, spreading and sticking by even the lightest of touches. While the ash darkened Celestia’s coat and muted the pastel colors of her mane, the same powder stood out on Luna like chalk on slate. The elder sister imagined playing connect-the-dots with the stars in Luna’s mane and chuckled.
As the echos of Celestia’s seemingly random giggle died as they were absorbed by the smoke damaged tapestries covering the walls of her private office. The creases marring the corners of Luna’s eyes grew even deeper.
“When did my sister become so grim and serious?” Celestia thought as she assessed her sister’s expression. “She looks so sad, so worried.” Celestia continued thinking to herself. “There’s anger there too as well as desperation.” She paused as the expression stirred the murky depths of her ancient memories. “I feel like I’ve seen that exact expression somewhere before...”
Recognition clicked and Celestia felt the bitter bite of irony. The expression didn’t have a succinct name like “Concern” or “Happiness.” There wasn’t enough use for this particular facial configuration to warrant a common name. If Celestia were forced to have to put a name to the expression it would be: “I love you, I’m worried about you, please don’t go crazy and try to destroy the world and force me to banish you to the moon for a thousand years.” Confronting her sister’s visage over the desk (and breakfast tray) was like looking into a mirror that reflected history instead of light.
Celestia found herself unable to meet Luna’s eyes now that she had identified the expression on her face. She turned away, her long neck arching over her shoulder, but the view behind her was no better. Beyond half-slagged doors lay a virtual moonscape of ash. That gray powder, the fully oxidized remains of her bedroom furnishings, had floated delicately upon the slightest stirrings of air and had spread to thickly coat every surface within her former redoubt. She exhaled a puff of air from her nostrils, sending some of the ash that coated her, inside and out, once again aloft.
The alicorn wondered briefly at the resemblance between that chamber and her sister’s former prison. “Was that somehow deliberate?” she asked herself, wishing that she could directly interrogate her subconscious on the matter. She knew she hadn’t been in her right mind last night during her episode, but she had doubts that any part of her mind was that subtle and devious. Turning back to her sister, she wondered what Luna had felt upon entering that room. Had she felt panic at the familiar vista? Had she thought Celestia was punishing herself with some sort of quasi-banishment? She glanced around her private office and found that the gray ash was slowly claiming this room as well. “Perhaps,” she conceded to herself, “my sister’s concerns aren’t entirely out of line.”
Unable to withstand the silence a moment longer Luna spoke, “I presume that things with Twilight did not go as well as you had hoped.”
Celestia freed her spoon from the butter knife with a twist, tap and riposte. Once again she had access to the breakfast Luna had so thoughtfully brought up to her chambers. After swallowing her first, delicious bite of egg, she answered with unaccustomed honesty. “Actually, things went far, far better than I had planned.” The ash-covered mare found herself smiling unbidden in response to her own words. It was her first natural expression in weeks and it had no purpose behind it other than simply expressing her mood. It felt odd but wonderful to allow her lips and cheeks to cavort without adult supervision.
The creases around her sister’s eyes developed creases as the look from Luna intensified.
Celestia snorted in laughter. She knew that such a response would only goad her sister into further, more desperate action but that look of judgement was so very badly, ridiculously, gloriously mistaken. “Would she try to kill me if she knew what I had actually planned for Twilight?” she wondered within the relative privacy of her own head. “Or would she secretly gather the Elements of Harmony so as to have an ironic and overly dramatic confrontation, complete with lengthy monologues.” As visions of the epic, pointless, and embarrassing showdown danced within her mind, Celestia was reduced to a tear-streaked mess of guffaws and snorts.
Luna’s wide eyes darted back and forth as she hid her lips behind a prolonged sip of coffee.
Celestia could just about read Luna’s developing plan from her sister’s terrible poker face. And while she was amused by the thought of such a farce occurring in theory, Celestia knew that she should intervene before her sister actually went haring off to save the world from her.
“So, Luna.” she innocently asked while her sister was swallowing another sip of coffee. “How did you come up with the name ‘Nightmare Moon’?” She then made sure to close her eyes before the cloud of suddenly aerosolized coffee reached her face.
“What?!?” Luna exclaimed after she had finished coughing the last of the scalding-hot beverage out of her lungs.
Still wearing a mask of purity, innocence, and coffee, Celestia continued. “Well dear, you’ve had so many names over the years: Luna, Selene, Mayari, Hina, Metztli, and dozens more. But Nightmare Moon? How did you pick that particular sobriquet as your nom de guerre?”
“I... I am not comfortable with this topic,” Luna stammered as her eyes locked on the black speckles covering her sister’s face like java and charcoal-flavored acne.
“I’ve been tossing around a couple of options myself. Which do you like better: Solar Flare or The Daymare?” Celestia shifted her grin to appear a bit more predatory.
“The oneiroi, they were the ones who joined with me and showed me how to become... that thing. They are the creatures of dreams, and nightmares. I was Luna, goddess of the moon. It was a fairly simple combination of names.” Luna blurted out, completely caving in response to her sister’s interrogation tactics.
“Why not keep your own name or use one of your older, more dramatic ones?”
“I picked it because it sounded ‘cool.’ I was young and angry and please let’s talk about something, anything, else,” Luna pleaded.
“Daymare: Master of Friendship.” Celestia continued, without mercy. She gestured dramatically with her spoon as she added the subtitle to her proposed name.
The younger sister’s face started at pained, flowed into shock, and eventually settled on incredulous. After taking a moment to regain her equilibrium she replied in a voice heavy with suspicion, “It sounds... ridiculous.”
Pleased that her sister was finally beginning to rise to the bait, Celestia goaded her on, “Oh? Why?”
“‘Master of Friendship’ doesn’t exactly inspire fear nor conjure up an image of power,” Luna replied as her eyes narrowed.
“Magic is friendship,” Celestia countered.
“In a benign sort of way, yes. But it isn’t like friendship is going to smash mountains or defeat titans.
Celestia’s raised eyebrow might have well stood up and spoken the names “Nightmare Moon and Discord.”
Luna’s curiosity got the better of her as she forgot to wince at the implication of past sins. “‘Fighter of the Nightmare’ is better. It implies power enough to defeat her foes.”
“I’ve got it!” Celestia beamed as she shouted, “Champion of the Sun!”
The corners of Luna’s lips began to twitch upwards as she archly eviscerated the proposal with a single word. “Redundant.”
“Ooooh, you aren’t any fun,” Celestia teased.
“You need something more... martial. Something that implies dangerous combat abilities.”
“Master of Karate!” The big, white mare made punching motions with her forehooves.
Luna finally found herself fighting against giggles of her own. “You don’t- snerk know karate!”
Celestia affected an obviously fake wounded tone, “Hay, you don’t know if I do. I might have picked it up sometime in the last millenium.”
“And would you have had your copious behind kicked by an overgrown bug with self-esteem issues and a blind, crippled goat if you had?”
Celestia’s mouth hung open as the temperature in the room seemed to drop a few hundred degrees.
Luna’s eyes bugged as she realized she had found the “line” in this conversation and had taken a flying leap over it. “Oh. Oh, Tia. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”
The younger mare was cut off by her sister made a cartoonishly bad (and debatably racist) approximation of a ‘Kung-Fu noise.’ Also, by the impact of her sister’s soft-boiled egg against her face.
Near silence hung between them. The only remaining sound was the pitter-patter of egg sliding off of Luna’s shocked expression.
Celestia, looking entirely too pleased with herself, restarted the conversation. “So...”
“Master of karate,” Luna said with a nod,
“And friendship,” her fey sister added.
“And friendship,” Luna conceded without further debate.
“For everyone!” Celestia raised both hooves above her head, as if expecting applause.
“Fine, Tia,” Luna’s playfulness was drying up in time with the yolk clotting on her face. She levitated a napkin and tried to remove some of the substance quickly bonding to her. “Why in Tartarus are we joking about this? It's morbid and it scares me.”
“I’m sorry Luna.”
“It’ll come out... eventually.” Luna’s expression softened slightly in response.
“Uh, not about the egg. Or rather, that too... I suppose.”
The dark mare’s lips thinned into a line. “Tia, what are you apologizing for?”
Celestia softly sighed through her nose, “I didn’t realize what it felt like to have ponies treating you like you were going mad. It can drive a sane pony crazy and it can push a mare in trouble right over the edge. I did that to you, I think; back... then.”
Luna’s face lost all expression as she went still as a snow-filled valley. “And that’s how I’ve been treating you?” she asked after that cold moment.
“Just a little,” Celestia then smiled as if to say, ‘and I’m not upset with you over it.’
“So,” Luna’s eyes darted to the ruined bedroom behind her sister, “that thing with Twilight?”
“It... it was a good thing. Please, trust me on that.”
“She was really scared and upset,” her sister chided.
“I realize that and I owe her an apology too,” Celestia agreed. “When this is all over,” she added to herself. It was then that the realization hit, she had decided to go another way. She wouldn’t kill Twilight, nor would she allow the universe to end. She’d find another way or die trying.
Luna interrupted her sister’s quiet epiphany. “Sooo, Twilight told me a little more about what happened at that lunch. Is there anything you need to tell me about that?”
Celestia’s mirth bled away, “No, Luna, not really.”
Luna’s answering expression eloquently indicated that Celestia’s answer wasn’t even remotely adequate.
“It was an embarrassing fiasco, Luna; I don’t want to dwell upon it.”
Luna’s expression informed Celestia that this breakfast counted as an ‘embarrassing fiasco’. “I have no idea what you were trying to accomplish, telling her that.”
Celestia appraised her sister, trying to deduce how much she knew. She crafted her reply to be completely truthful and yet empty of all useful information. “She deserved to know the truth.”
“Even when all the truth could do is hurt her, and me?” her sister answered.
“The lying, the concealing was an infection, festering below the surface. It hurts to lance a boil but it allows the healing to start,” Celestia waxed metaphorically and vague.
“But what if she did feel the same way about you? What then? Would you force her to choose between us? Did you think we could share her?”
Celestia heart began to sink as her sister’s implications began to take on a terrible kind of sense. “Um.. what?”
Luna continued deeper into the realm of awkward conversations one never wishes to have with their sister. “I know I’ve had some unusual arrangements with special someponies in the past but that was a long time ago and my needs have changed alot since then. Also, you’re my sister. The whole thing feels a bit...incestious.”
Celestia moaned as her worst fears were realized.
“I know Tia, it’s hard to hear things like this.”
Thinking only of the nightmarish act of miscommunication she had perpetrated upon her student, Celestia nodded automatically in response.
Luna stood up and came around the desk to drape a wing over her obviously distressed sister. “I’ve asked around dear sister. I know its been a long, long time since you’ve expressed interest in being with anypony. I know it hurts now but we should focus on the positive.”
Celestia met her sister’s now very close eyes, the horror within evidently being mistaken for heartache.
“This is the first time you’ve opened yourself up to something like this in several centuries, perhaps because you are beginning to forgive yourself now that I’ve been returned to you.” Luna smiled at her sister “This is progress and the pain is something normal that normal ponies go through every day.” Celestia stared dumbfounded as Luna concluded. “This is a good thing,” she said, punctuating every word with squeeze from her wing.
Celestia, for the first time in a very, very long while, could think of nothing to say. No response was adequate in the face of the horror before her. She could not deny her sister’s interpretation. To do so would prompt further questions and eventual discovery of Celestia’s true, fatal, intentions towards Twilight. But the only other option was to admit to harboring quasi-incestious feelings towards her faithful student.
The moment of warm understanding radiating from her sister passed into the skin-crawlingly awkward realm of a too-long hug. Sensing the change in mood, Luna queried, “Tia?”
Celestia wordlessly broke the embrace and stood up.
“Tia?”
She headed towards the exit but paused. Celestia’s mouth opened and shut several times before her pummeled brain supplied the most perfunctory of excuses. “I need a bath.”
“Tia?” Luna prodded.
Celestia paused in her walk across the room, turned her face back towards her sister and nodded. “A bath.” She then continued out the door, leaving a rather perplexed alicorn behind.
---------------------------------------------
Two hours later Celestia was still submerged up to her eyeballs in scalding-hot, rose scented, water mentally chanting the word “clean” as if it were a mantra. Despite the number of times she repeated the word, scrubbed herself, or changed the water, it was a feeling that she just could not achieve. Each time the tub was drained, there was a gray, gritty slurry coating the porcelain floor of the tub. Each time she replayed her lunchtime conversation with Twilight she felt contaminated by her series of inadvertent entendres. Recalling how her conversation with Luna had ended, she shuddered again and sank below the foam-flecked water.
The sensations of scalding pressure and weightlessness stirred one of her oldest memories; the one and only embrace she had shared with her father. She had only been a foal at the time as that night had been about a year before Luna was to be born. She had been terrified when the night sky began pouring into her mother’s cave. Stars, nebula, whole galaxies flowed into the humble space they had called home and in the center of that infinite space and mass was a mind unlike any she had met before or since. She had felt an affinity toward it that changed her panic into curiosity. Then her mother’s thoughts reached her mind, “This is your father. Be a good girl and say ‘hello’.”
They had regarded each other. They had felt a connection. They had hugged. She was then shooed outside to allow the adults the private time that had resulted in Luna.
She and her father had only met that one time but no matter how many centuries passed the memory of that embrace remained fresh. And as each day dawned, she sent the solar part of her reaching, straining upwards, to touch him once again. Every day her orb blindly groped for him, hidden as he was behind the cerulean sky. And each day she set the sun, having failed in her sisyphean quest.
A twinge of envy passed through Celestia. The moon sailed through the nighttime skies, against the backdrop of their father’s belly. Her sister was much more like their father than she was and yet had no idea how much closer she was to their celestial father. “Does Luna even realize that the stars that had freed her were a part of our father?” she wondered, still submerged. “Did she understand that both mother and father had played a role in her redemption?”
She reminded herself that such things didn’t matter. Their youngest daughter need not be grateful for their love, effort, and sacrifice to have meaning. What gave it that was the fact that their Luna was back, reformed, and redeemed. “No matter how strange, gross, or ungrateful that foal could be,” she mentally added with a twinge of guilt.
Floating in the silence, she asked herself if she was truly happy that Luna was back. She had mourned her sister after her banishment. She had been alone among ponykind for centuries, her only companion Philomina. Then Cadance had reincarnated. Soon after that came the prophecy hinting that her sister could be redeemed and then she found Sunset Shimmer to crush underneath the weight of all her hopes and dreams. Then came Twilight, then her sister reformed along with all the other Elements of Harmony. More had happened in her life in the last twenty years than in the last five-hundred. And instead of worrying about losing track of what decade it was, she now had to not only worry about the world ending every other year, but also figure out how to live among family (in all its glory and annoyance) once again.
She swished her head back and forth underwater and then allowed herself to surface. As her mane spread out behind her head like a pastel oil-slick, she took a breath with her barely exposed nostrils. The action reminded her of one of her more distant cousins; she should send him a letter sometime and catch up. “Yet another thing I wouldn’t have ever thought to do just a decade ago,” she added ruefully.
She turned her mind away from her familial discomfort and forced herself to focus, instead, on the largest problem at hoof; Twilight and the Morai. The Fates had claimed that Twilight now existed without a destiny and that, in a chain reaction, she was disrupting the fates of everyone she interacted with, and so on, and so on. Celestia wondered where in the reaction curve they presently lay. If they were still in the early portion, then a delay of a day or two was essentially meaningless to the universe at large. If, however, they were in the exponential portion, then every hour that passed was hurtling them towards disaster. “If I quarantined Twilight, would that help slow down the process?” she thought. However, she immediately dismissed that possibility as she realized that her protege’s interactions among the residents of Ponyville meant that all of those ponies were like carriers of the metaphysical plague. This wasn’t even counting the major deviations from destiny that have already occurred.
Celestia tried to apply one of her many lessons she had given Twilight; when a problem seems insurmountable, approach the problem in a different way. Could Twilight be placed back onto a thread? Could a destiny be taken over by somepony else? It sounded possible but for a path to be vacated that would mean that the pony formerly occupying that destiny had to die. And, most importantly that pony must have died as a violation of destiny. Given Twilight’s condition, it seemed possible to Celestia that her student could kill somepony who was supposed to have lived and then take over their life. Just contemplating that dark method inspired another round of scrubbing.
Perhaps, she bargained between applications of shampoo, somepony who had already died inadvertently? Not a sacrifice or theft but more like an organ transplant in the wake of a terrible accident. But, she noted, that would still leave Twilight living somepony else’s life and not her own. Would Twilight stop being her faithful student if tied to somepony else’s destiny? Who’s path could be given to Twilight that would allow her to not lose everything that made her who she was?
A name and a face was presented by her subconscious and for the first time she was glad that Sunset Shimmer had fled beyond even a goddess's reach. “Mother help me against such temptations,” she prayed.
Mentally flinching away from these imagined dark deeds, Celestia lamented the impossibility of simply forging Twilight a new thread. She wondered if even the Morai themselves could do such a thing. It seemed implausible to the alicorn, since the creation of even one unaccounted for destiny would lead to…Celestia’s eyes flew open as the next word in her chain of thought occurred to her. Such a thing would lead to... Chaos.