//------------------------------//
// Luna's Epilogue – Phases of the Moon 
// Story: Shades of Grey 
// by Inquisitor M 
//------------------------------//


Luna’s Epilogue
Phases of the Moon


 

New Moon – Discord

 
“Are you still worried, my student?”
Celestia’s dulcet tones sailed above the noise of ponies chatting and reached the balcony; the afternoon’s events had quieted some while invigorating others. Luna’s ear twitched, then angled toward the conversation.
“Yeah, I’m just worried about Spike. I know Rarity doesn’t want to hurt him, but he’s just a little dragon. He doesn’t really know what he feels yet.”
Luna’s gaze lingered over the immaculately groomed unicorn in her courtly attire, the dress’s hind drapes splayed haphazardly across the floor. The dress didn’t matter. It was nothing—less than nothing; only the pony and the little whelpling in her tender embrace mattered.
Drink deep the healing waters, little ones, for thou art most deserving.
“Twilight, did you know any better when you asked me if we could slip away to a deserted island where we could spend more—”
“No! I mean, yes—I mean…” Luna didn’t have to look down to know Twilight’s face would be red as a beetroot.
“Beg pardon?”
Red as an apple? Far more fitting.
Celestia giggled—a melody of rainbows reflected off shimmering waters. “You were no different, my faithful student, but I certainly hope that little filly’s heart was safe in my care.”
“Oh! Of course it was.” Twilight’s voice developed a nervous tremble. “It’s just that… I mean…”
A faint growl emanated from deep in Luna’s throat.
“And there it is,” Thunderer said.
“There what is?” Luna’s reply was curt, her eyes still locked on Rarity.
“The unspoken double standard. The rule that she is above reproach. ‘But she’s not you,’ is what Twilight can’t bring herself to say. ‘She’s not perfect.’”
Luna shuddered, a chill running down her spine. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly.
“You’re stuck, Luna.” Thunderer’s voice carried the weight of a doctor delivering bad news. “It’s too easy for you to keep waiting. My duty as a guard is done, and my duty as your friend is to push you further. Therefore, I quit.”
Luna’s mouth twitched, but otherwise her face remained frozen. The noise from below flowed into her brain, echoing around the hole she felt inside until dulled by the ice in her veins.
“It’s all right to say it,” Thunderer said.
A few moments more, and Luna opened her eyes. “I still need you,” she said quietly.
“Well, that’s better than hating me, at least.”
Luna chuckled. “Can you not see I am trying to be traumatised? Anyway, I thought you always knew what I was going to say.” What little life seeped into her voice did nothing to warm her thin smile.
“No. It takes a little wordplay to wear that mask. We’ve been past that point for months now. I’m just making it official. You don’t need guards—you don’t need me… you just want me. I am ruggedly handsome, after all.”
The princess spluttered and snorted. “Stop it!” The grin spreading across her face warmed her, inside and out. “Whence did thou become such a rogue? I thought that was Seeker’s forte.”
“Right after I quit. But I mean it. You tried to spread your wings and got burned. We were your safe harbour and we were glad of it; now it’s time to try again and you’re hiding where the seas are calm. I can’t let that happen. Besides, my friendship with Celestia has only gotten stronger since I stopped working for her. Perhaps the same will be true here.”
The smile on Luna’s face flickered, the endless wellspring of ice in her chest spiralling into the bottomless void in her stomach. “You speak the truth. I know what I would do, but not how,” she said, falling back into a heavy frown. “Equestria is never as vast as when I think of the morrow. I would seek your counsel before you discharge yourself.”
“My pleasure. You can buy me a hot chocolate.” Thunderer smiled and raised a hoof onto Luna’s withers. “I know just the place.”
 
The sun hung low in the sky, bathing Canterlot’s dockyard in orange hues. A few ponies moved air-freight on and off the parked wagons, and the smell of honest work wafted under Luna’s nose. She fanned her wings, enjoying the gentle flow of the cool, evening air while she and Thunderer, his coat a deep terracotta-red now that he was out of uniform, approached the rowdy collection of ponies sat outside a small bistro on the edge of the dockyard square.
Splashdown stood behind a pale-green earth pony with a yellow mane and a pronounced bump in her belly. She barely fit the small table’s bench and leant back into her husband’s embrace. Seeker sat beside her, leaning forwards with a holly-green unicorn snuggled against his back, and Vanilla sat opposite with Silverlight, the taller and heavier breed of Canterlot unicorn, stood over the last seat. Vindicator and Glory completed the group, standing at the far side as Luna approached. All six guards still wore Luna’s armour.
“Hello, Luna,” the mare in front of Splashdown said, her voice as soft as silk. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“And you, Bright Meadow.” Luna took her place at the fourth side of the table while Thunderer walked inside the Bistro. “I trust he isn’t giving you too much trouble?”
“Not at all.” Bright Meadow’s hoof reached up and haphazardly patted her husband’s head. “He’s a bit of a baby, but I have experience with those, now.”
Splashdown winced and shied from the onslaught. “Help! Help! I’m being trampled by the elephant mare!”
“Watch it, Splashie,” Vanilla said, “or you’ll be roughing it on the couch again.”
“Let him have his bed, she can share mine!”
“Screw, you, Vindicator,” Splashdown replied.
“Language!” Bright Meadow swatted her husband on the nose. “There are ladies present.”
“Right. Sorry Silverlight.”
The unicorn rolled his eyes and Luna raised her voice. “And you. I presume that you would be Thunderer’s young sister, Holly?”
“Yes, Princess.” Holly’s voice bubbled with energy. She pulled away from Seeker and bowed, but Luna waved her off with a hoof.
“Please, no. We are all…” The word caught in Luna’s throat. Her eyes swept across the ponies before her, every one of them smiling with an infectious warmth that tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Yes, we are all friends, here.”
From inside the Bistro, Thunderer called his sister, but she hesitated as she turned towards the door. Smiling, she trotted up to Luna and gave her a peck on the cheek so fleeting as to barely touch. Luna’s eyes followed the mare as she trotted inside with a spring in her step and her bright-red tail swishing behind her. Only when somepony sniggered did the princess realise her wings jutted out at half-mast, and a flush entered her cheeks.
Glory was the first to break into bellicose laughter, slamming a hoof on the small table repeatedly as the others joined in one by one until they all rocked with merriment.
“Stop it,” Luna said, folding her wings tight against her flanks. Even the softly-spoken Bright Meadow’s shoulders bounced with her giggling. “Why is this amusing?” Luna shouted, and Silverlight, who had tried to contain his laughter, spluttered and burst into a mighty guffaw, his eyes starting to water.
“Silence!”
The effect was instant. Nopony made a sound. Nopony moved. Behind the table, Holly’s snout and hoof pressed against glass as she looked out at a panting, trembling princess.
“Why?” The quiver in Luna’s voice match the tremble in her eyes. “Why do you laugh at me so?”
A half-dozen sheepish faces turned downward in silence.
“Luna?” Silverlight looked straight at her. “She was just being respectful. That’s all. She’s pretty much fearless—being Thunderer’s sister, after all. She’s usually a hugger, but we talk about you so she knows better. Please don’t take it personally. She’s just trying to be friendly and… it was kind of funny.”
Luna held the unicorn’s gaze a few moments before glancing sideways at the empty air where Thunderer wasn’t.
We were your safe harbour. Were…
Luna pawed at the ground. “We were foolish. Please accept our apologies.”
Silverlight stepped towards the princess. “You’ve never come down here before. Is there something you need?”
After a long breath, Luna’s face hardened, a touch of steel glinting in her eyes. “Something I need,” she repeated. “It was easy to forget that wanting your protection is not a sign of weakness—easy to forget that it is not the sum of who I am. It seems that I have repeated the mistake of being unwilling to risk what I have to get what I want. I need to make sure that does not happen again.”
Luna’s horn shimmered. Each of the stallions glowed, their armour unfastening itself by magic, floating off them, and falling to the ground while their natural colours returned to the coats and manes. Glory reared up and put his hooves on the table, looking every bit the image of the heraldic lion on his flanks as he shook out his golden-brown wings and mane.
“Put it away, butch.” Vanilla shoved the pegasus’s hooves off the table as all eyes turned back to Luna.
“No.” Luna’s voice came alive with her theatrical oration. “No longer should you be diminished because of us. Stand proud, Glory—and thou, Vindicator—brothers of spirit as much as blood. Thou extend to all who struggle a unity with which thee keep each other honest. Thou art warriors in the truest sense: beacons of hope for all shrouded by the shadow of despair, no matter its form. We are in need such ponies for what is to come.”
Vindicator’s soot-black hoof hammered on the table. “Yours to command, my princess, for this day and all days in fair weather or foul.”
“What he said,” Glory added, raising himself up with one hoof on his brother’s back and shaking the bandaged one at the sky. “But louder!” He burst into more belly laughs, dropping back to the ground and hoof-bumping Vindicator.
Bright Meadow leaned back and pressed her cheek against her husband’s. “Between Vindi’s prose and the overabundance of testosterone, I’m not sure if I’m going to cry or have my voice drop.”
Soft laughter rippled through the ponies, but Luna didn’t join in, and neither did the stallion still staring at her, almost frozen to a statue. “Silverlight,” Luna said. The stallion gulped. “I must apologise to you, more than your peers.”
“Apologise?” Silverlight’s paralysis broke, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Luna, you don’t have to apologise for anything, I—”
“Yes I do.” She lifted a silver-shod hoof and placed it on his chest. “This exterior, powerful, tall, and purest white—the epitome of Canterlot nobility—belies thy gentle heart. We see thee do more than understand us; we see thee share our every pain and every joy. We believed thy keen intellect and open heart was wasted on a guard’s life, yet we said nothing because thy company is desired.”
Silverlight flinched when Vanilla tousled his mane. “Take a breath, Silver; it’s all good. Luna, this isn’t your most inspiring speech. You might wanna cut to the chase before Silver things you’re sacking him.” The smaller, brown unicorn waved a hoof towards Vindicator and Glory. “They have a point, though. My guess is that this is about your earlier announcement, and you can count me in.”
“Good.” Luna smiled, dropping her theatrical facade. “Silverlight, you have earned a place at my side for as long as you want it. You have nothing to fear, but I have an offer that may be more appropriate to your considerable talents. I need an ambassador to magical fraternities across Equestria. I believe you are the perfect pony, hungry to apply your extensive knowledge wherever it can help.”
“I think I need to sit down,” Silverlight replied in a hollow voice.
Luna settled to her haunches as the large unicorn squeezed onto the bench. “You would have help, of course. I am certain Vanilla would return the favour, as he will require your knowledge, also.” Vanilla sprang a huge grin. “I am going to require a hearth master.”
Vanilla’s smile turned wooden. “Silver,” he whispered loudly, leaning into his comrade. “What’s a hearth master?”
“Hearth Master. Archaic. Senior staff of a lodge or estate subordinate to a seneschal. A hearth master oversees the well-being of residents and guests of said lodge or estate including travel both to and from accommodations, diplomatic missions, and formal provision of services.”
“Oh, yeah.” Vanilla patted Silverlight on the back. “Gonna need your help plenty, pal.”
“But,” Silverlight said. “If you’re appointing a hearth master then you’ll want a seneschal which means… Wow. The last lodge was dismantled by the aristocracy centuries ago.”
“And unchallenged, the so-called nobility have fallen to corruption.” A bitter edge crept into Luna’s voice. “A fact I mean to challenge, but one pony, even a princess, can do little. I need ponies of character and will to lead by example in support of those who need it most. And yes, I will need a seneschal… Splashdown.”
The pegasus stiffened. “Huh? What about Thunderer?”
“He has expressed a preference for training recruits. He believes you are more than ready.”
Splashdown pursed his lips, slowly swinging his jaw from side to side and Bright Meadow twisted her head to look up at her husband. “You know I’ll support you, whatever you choose.” He leaned in and gave her a slow kiss.
“I know, but it’s my job to support you, too. We all knew something was coming, but this is a risk, and since that long chat with Thunderer’s dad, I don’t play dice with my children’s future.” He reached a hoof down and patted her belly, and she, in turn, stroked his azure coat gently.
“We’ve talked about this; I know you don’t want to go backwards. If it was your son…” Bright Meadow pressed his hoof into her. “If he had the chance to follow his dreams, what would you tell him?”
The door to the bistro swung open with the ringing of its tiny bell and Holly strode out into the silence that fell across the ponies. She sat beside Seeker and leaned against him while Splashdown ran his other hoof through his wife’s blonde curls.
“You’re going to make enemies and we all know it,” Splashdown said. “I can live with that. I guess I even like it, but I can’t say yes without security. Two years redundancy at my current pay, but I’ll work it off at half of whatever wages we can agree, and I have to be based in Canterlot to be near my family. I’m no Boomer, but what I want can never come at the expense of my children’s security. It’s a deal-breaker, so take it or leave it.”
“You’re going to force me to speak with those detestable little accounting weasels?” Luna grumbled and sighed. “Very well. I can only agree in principle until then. Now, Seeker, what say you? I mean to find ponies both literally and metaphorically lost: those without a voice, or who know not where to turn in times of strife. Is the pony with a compass on his flank interested in such a task?”
Seeker, his coat barely a shade lighter than Luna’s guard colours, frowned deeply and huddled over the table, offering no reply.
“Sweetheart?” Holly leaned in and rested a hoof on his hip. “You can tell her.”
Stretching her wings briefly, Luna dipped her head to try and catch the stallion’s eye. “Tell me what, Seeker? What burdens you?”
Still he said nothing, his silence echoed by his onlooking companions. Holly whispered into his ear and received a mute nod in return. “Princess Luna, could Seeker and I to speak to you in private? As in, now?”
“Of course. I have a spell, if you would both step away from the table.” Luna hopped backwards with a beat of her wings, taking in the mixture of shocked and confused expressions before turning her eyes back to Seeker. The stallion dragged himself free from the stable and plodded towards her until Canterlot’s dockland vanished, replaced by an endless starfield in every direction. “There. A mere illusion, but none will see or hear us in here.” She stared at the stallion, his head drooping as if made of lead. “Seeker… I’ve never seen you like this. I am concerned. Please speak of what troubles you.”
Seeker tested the ground beneath him with a hoof while Holly did a full turn, gazing out at the wealth of galaxies and nebulae that filled the backdrop. Coming to a stop, she rested a hoof gently on his shoulder before sliding her forelegs around his neck.
“You haven’t seen me like this,” he said, his voice starting small and growing. “But that’s kind of the point isn’t it?” Holly released him and backed away. “Maybe that’s because you only ever pay attention to what you want and not how it affects everypony else.”
Luna watched the stallion’s wings flare slightly with each stressed word, but despite the rising venom in his voice, his eyes did not rise to meet hers. A shiver ran up her spine. Even if she had something to say—which she didn’t—surely she owed him this chance to speak his mind? Isn’t that what she’d wanted all along?
“Oh sure, you talk about being honest with each other, but it’s so much easier being honest about doing whatever it is you were going to do anyway than lower yourself to asking what we lowly guards think of it. No… what I think of it.” Finally, he stamped a hoof and burst into shouting. “You make this big deal out of ponies putting you up on a pedestal, but you act like the very thing you despise! Did it even occur to you to wonder how we would react? Did you even care? Can you even understand that you talk of being friends as you treat us like toys? Toys! Doesn’t matter what we want; it only matters what Luna wants and we get to play along as if having our lives turned upside down is supposed to be a privilege. I like being a guard! I liked whatever it is we had! Would it hurt so much to ask whether we actually wanted it before you changed everything? Heavens above, we might even have had some ideas!”
He still wouldn’t meet her eyes, but Luna’s mind swam in the void where Seeker’s rant ended. She’d stared down Discord and fought every manner of creature Equestria had to offer, but as the stallion’s seemingly small frame slouched, she was utterly powerless.
“Pray continue. Do not be afraid of your anger; it seems I have earned it.”
Seeker puffed out his cheeks, then raised his head to finally meet her gaze. Whatever anger had burned there was gone.
“Few ponies ever believe me when I say my life hasn’t been easy.” He looked to one side and extended a wing to touch the silent unicorn sitting near him. “Most just think that being a good looking guy gives you everything on a silver platter. Do you have any idea how petty and vapid most of the mares that hit on me are? Can you even imagine how infuriating it is that the ones who don’t treat me like I’m arrogant for wanting more are usually the ones so arrogant that I can’t stand them? Luna… believe me when I say that I understand the things you’ve been talking about this last year, but I need you to understand that I want it for me, not… not for you.” His head bowed again, and Holly slid in next to him.
“It’s all right, Sweetheart. I’m sure Luna understands how it feels for ponies only to see what’s on the outside.”
Luna tensed as the mare gave her a withering stare. She could have hidden how much she’d needed that hint. She could have.
“I cannot lie: too many silences have pained me as much as ill-tempered words. I did not know—I did not see—the pain hiding in plain sight. Nor can I pretend I understand, Seeker.” Luna frowned and pursed her lips; her next words lurked just beyond the veil of her consciousness, but just as her own burden had lessened with Rarity’s attention, so did the weight on her faithful guard’s shoulders seem to lighten through hers.
“So… umm. What do we do now?” he said, finally letting his gaze wander to the endless drifts of space around them. Luna let her own gaze linger on him, his outward show of relaxation loosening the icy grip on her heart.
“I do not know,” she replied softly. “I don’t know how to fix this, and I confess that it frightens me.”
“You don’t fix it.” Holly’s voice carried the hard edge of her stare. “I don’t know what my brother has been filling your head with, but it isn’t your problem to fix. It’s a relationship; you both have to talk about it, if that’s that you want. You’ll find he’s good at that if you just… What is it?”
Luna squeezed her eyes shut, suppressing the shiver that ran down her spine.
“There’s another pony she needs to have that talk with,” Seeker said. Luna breathed rapidly as the sound of his hooves closed. Only when she felt him press gently against her neck did her eyes spring open. “Friends,” he said. “That’s what you wanted isn’t it?”
Her breathing slowed, but one thought—one pony—pushed any attempt at forming a reply aside.
“This is what friends do, when it’s needed,” he continued. “I won’t follow you, Luna—I can do that in Celestia’s guard—but I’ll go with you, into the dark places where other ponies fear to tread. You’re at your best when there is one thing you can focus on, whether it’s holding Blessing tightly or fighting a life-or-death struggle against an unstoppable abomination, so, you want to find the most downtrodden, victimised, and abused pony you can and bring ten kinds of fire and thunder along for the ride. And when the dust settles you want ponies to look up and say, ‘That’s how a real pony acts.’ You want to inspire, and not because you want to be a hero, Luna, but because you are. You have a vision of another kind of Equestria; I see that. I see you, and I’m in, if you’ll have me on my terms.”
“Now.” Seeker took a step back. “Go up to that spot on the mountaintop you love and scream until the feelings go away. I’ll tell the others that we’ll take things nice and slow, shall I?”
Luna’s head felt like ten clouds had spontaneously appeared inside it, filling up every space where meaningful thinking might take place. Her eyes shimmered, but no tears fell. Her legs trembled, but held firm. When Seeker stepped back she looked into his face and saw something new: pride. Something had changed for him—something that would never be undone. She nodded, but for now, the top of Canterlot Mountain called, and she dissolved into a cloud of magic, racing toward its peak.
 

 
Crescent Moon – Dissonance

 
Luna tapped Rarity’s leg again, her gentler attempts at waking the unicorn thwarted by earplugs and an eyemask. Such mundane contrivances were aggravating.
Rolling onto her other side, Rarity clutched her bedsheets tightly for a few moments before jerking awake. “Luna?” She sat bolt upright, hurriedly pulling her mask off.
“You’ve been expecting me.”
“Hmm? You’ve very quiet, Luna. Is everything all—oh my.” Rarity pulled the plugs out of her ears. “I’m sorry.”
“You’ve been expecting me,” Luna repeated, resting on her haunches by the bed. She wore a smile, but it held little warmth. “After that letter, perhaps it would be truer to say you have been hoping that I would come.”
Rarity winced and slid down under her sheets slightly. “Oh dear. It’s the expectation, isn’t it? I’m sorry, Luna. I can’t help it.”
Luna’s smile warmed slightly. “In truth, your letter was well timed. It seems I found some whole new mistakes to make and your words were a welcome surprise. Yet… I can’t do this. Even now you look at me with those same eyes, as if we’re suddenly the best of friends. I wish it were that simple but—”
A white hoof pressed against her mouth.
“You’re right.” Rarity withdrew her leg and climbed out from beneath the covers to lie on top of her sheets. “It’s just a silly fantasy, and I’m sorry.”
Luna shook her head emphatically. “It’s not silly and neither is it your fault.” Climbing on the bed, she dangled her hooves off the edge and gestured to the spot next to her. Rarity complied, pressing firmly against Luna’s side and beaming a wide smile. “I need to tell you something because I don’t know how else to explain this. I have said nothing before in case you think me ungrateful, but the truth is that bringing me back cost me more than I have admitted to.”
She paused and searched the unicorn’s face for reaction, but there was no hint of disappointment or shock, only concern and patience. Luna took a deep breath.
“Return rainwater to a cloud and it will fall again soon enough, so the Elements took much from me: memories locked away to be overcome one at a time, reclaiming some parts of my old life and discarding others. To you, I look fully restored, but I am far from complete. That is what your friends saw on Nightmare Night, and the more I comprehend what it means, the more I see that this path is a long one. The pony you wrote about in your letter is not me. It’s you—or at least, what you desire to be. Perhaps I desire that too, and perhaps that is what brought us together, but I do not feel free to truly find myself in the presence of such company. I wish it were not so, but I must distance myself from you.”
The unicorn leaned in, and Luna extended a wing over her. “You have every right to be disappointed. After that day, you have every right to be angry, but it is my hope that you understand. That is why I had to speak to you face to face.”
“I do understand,” Rarity replied quietly. “I’m not saying it won’t hurt, but you took a horrible nightmare and turned it into something I will treasure forever. It was worth it.”
Luna rested her muzzle gently atop Rarity’s head. “Know that I am not abandoning you. Though I ask you to respect my wishes, I leave you this as a reminder that, should you have need of me, I will welcome you warmly.” With a shimmer of her horn, a shadow crept from one corner of the room and took form as a dress-pony garbed in her lady-in-waiting attire, its countless tiny diamonds twinkling in the moonlight.
Rarity gasped and sat up sharply. “You’re… you’re giving this to me?”
“No. It is mine, and I will return for it someday. Do you understand?” Glancing to one side, she saw the unicorn’s eyes and grin widening. Luna withdrew her wing and straightened herself up. “You may,” she said haughtily, and Rarity lunged, wrapping her legs around Luna’s neck.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Rarity kissed the princess’s crest before hugging tightly.
“You seem more comfortable around me, at least,” Luna said with a wry grin. “I have one more thing for you.” Another shadow appeared in the air and transformed into a golden disc with ‘Real Equestrian Hero’ emblazoned across the centre. “My sister told me Twilight asked about acknowledging Rainbow Dash’s valour. We decided on this, and under the circumstances, I thought you might appreciate the chance to present it to her yourself. I’m sure I can rely on you to find an appropriate ribbon, yes?”
The medal glowed, snared in Rarity’s magic as she set it down on the bed between her forelegs. “Luna… It’s—”
“Yes. I thought so.”
“I don’t—”
“Nothing need be said.” Luna relaxed, letting her eyes drift shut.
Rarity snuggled into her shoulder again. “I don’t suppose—”
“Just for a little bit.” Luna’s wing spread over the unicorn.
Ten minutes of cosy silence later, Luna tucked the sleeping unicorn into bed, kissed her gently on the forehead, and leapt out of the bedroom window.
 


Half Moon – Commitment

 
“Twilight. Wake up, Twilight.”
Spike dodged the hoof that tried to swat him. “Wake up!”
“Aaaah!” Twilight cried, sending the dragon barrelling to the floor. “What is it? What’s going on?”
Spike sat up, rubbing the back of his head. “It’s Princess Luna.”
Twilight yawned and stretched as she sat up. “What in Equestria would Princess Luna be doing here at this hour?”
“Well, I am the Princess of the Night.”
“Ahhhh!” Twilight cried again, falling out of bed and meeting the floor chin first. “Princess!” She picked herself up, rubbing her jaw. “I had no idea you were coming!”
“Perhaps that would be because you were not told.”
“I… err… ummm…”
Spike stomped towards the door. “I’ll go make a pot of coffee. She won’t make much sense otherwise. Would you like some, Princess?”
Luna shuddered. “Keep that foul ichor away from me, please.” She watched him leave and turned back to catch Twilight straighten stiffly, as if she hadn’t just been trying to make her bangs presentable. The unicorn laughed nervously.
“So, Luna, what brings you here at such a late hour?”
“Have you not been requesting my attention?”
Twilight’s bleary eyes sprang wide open. “Oh, yes! I was starting to worry that you might be avoiding me.”
“I was.”
“Oh,” Twilight replied, a little too slowly to sound comfortable.
Too easy.
Luna grinned. “Please allow me to explain. My sister and I avoid crossing paths if we can avoid it. She is your mentor and I have no desire to trespass upon her domain; it is for Celestia to discuss the matter of your talents when, and if, she sees fit.
“Secondly, I have just informed Rarity that I will be avoiding further contact for the time being. Personally helping you with your research project with you would doubtless be painful for her.”
Twilight stared blankly for several seconds. “Wow. Okay. I had no idea… Is something wrong between you and Rarity?”
Luna sighed and fell back onto her haunches. “Not as such. Where Rarity sees Canterlot as a place of high society and refinement, I can only see decadence and monumental failure. I alone understand Celestia’s intent for Canterlot, and when I left Equestria it was nothing more than an ideal. To return and find such a hollow shell of that ideal tells me that my sister has sacrificed too much to keep Canterlot, perhaps even Equestria, functioning. Canterlot is rotting, and the Equestria I remember is gone. I mean no disrespect, but it can be better. It must. My sister is, and always will be, the public face that our subjects look up to. So I must become that which strikes fear into the hearts of the impure.”
Twilight blinked and shifted uncomfortably. “Umm… Princess Luna? I’m not sure what that has to do with Rarity…”
At first, Luna scowled, but the look quickly melted. “Oh. Our thoughts may be a little preoccupied.” She sighed heavily. “It is me. She looks at me and sees something I am not comfortable with. I could not live with myself if I came to resent her because of it, so I must decline your request for assistance.”
“However,” she continued, “I will assign Silverlight and Sonata to assist you. He has no other duties for several weeks, and she is already well versed in the necessary magics.”
Twilight grimaced. “Sonata? Really? Do you think that’s such a good idea?”
“I inquired as to the nature of her fixation with you. It seems she has concerns about your potential—that you are the next Nightmare Moon waiting to happen. That, of course, is ridiculous.”
“Oh.” Twilight chuckled nervously. “Of course.”
“Rest assured that could never happen.” Luna turned away from the books and levelled a hard stare at Twilight. “After all, if you were to run amok, you would have to face me, not Celestia.”
Twilight shrunk under the glare, and Luna broke into a wicked smile. “My sister warned me that you were adorably cute when you were nervous.” The unicorn’s cheeks instantly turned red.
“She did?” Twilight quickly covered her face with a pillow.
Luna rolled her eyes. “Too easy. I will send Silverlight after sunrise. Be gentle with him; he’ll probably be as nervous as you are.” Without waiting for a reply, she dissipated into a fine mist and poured out of the window.
The bedroom door flew open and Spike strolled in with a pot of steaming coffee. “Hey. Where’d Princess Luna go?”
Twilight silently peered back at him over the pillow.
Spike stared at her for a moment, checked behind him, then stared at her again. “What?”
 


Gibbous Moon – Focus

 
To say that White-Mane Falls was secluded was an exercise in understatement. The waterfall itself was tremendously high, resulting in a spray that could be seen for miles around, and the surrounding terrain made access dangerous for anypony not in possession of wings.
“It’s perfect for him.” Luna stood on an outcropping below the upper lip of the cliff—a sheltered spot below a secluded town.
Seeker lay beside her, eyeing the vertical climb to the top and the wooden winch-and-basket contraption that serviced it. “How’d you figure? Looks like a deathtrap to me.”
“It’s isolated—a small bubble largely undisturbed by newcomers. He can build relationships here without being crowded. But even this will be a challenge for him.”
“Huh.” Seeker nodded slowly at first, then with more conviction. “I can dig that. I imagine you’re a little jealous.”
Grinning, Luna shot him a quick glance. “Perhaps, and I think it’s time for you to go. They will arrive shortly, I’m sure.”
“I still don’t see why you feel to have to do this alone, especially when he’s bringing friends.” He eyed the winch one more time and stepped towards the edge of the outcropping. “See you at the bottom, Luna.”
She didn’t hear him jump. Only after she laid in the thick grass did she hear his wings snap out about halfway down. It did seem like fun, but she couldn’t risk the distraction; this conversation could make or break her will. Stormcloud needed somepony he could depend on and that wasn’t her—nor was it likely to be for some time.
Minutes trickled by, each filled with unease as little shocks of adrenaline sent icewater flowing through her veins, and all of them dwarfed by the deluge that momentarily halted her breathing when two little faces peered over the lip above her. One was the familiar face of Stormcloud, his horn filed down to a flat patch of bone on his forehead, and the other a cream coloured mare with dark blue frizz and a big, dopey grin. Starkicker, his letter had said, along with a warning about an unhealthy dose of hero worship.
As she stood, the other pony she had been told to expect launched off the precipice. This one, also a pegasus, was white and closely resembled his name.
“Firemane, I presume?” Luna said as the stallion landed.
“Yes, your majesty.” He gave an extremely formal and precise bow, holding himself low.
Luna narrowed her eyes. “Luna.”
“Of course, Princess Luna.”
She sighed. “Guard training, if I am not mistaken.” Firemane raised himself up, eyes fixed straight ahead.
“Failed basic. ‘Too fiery’, they said. Think it was humour, Princess.”
“At ease, Firemane. You will look me in the eye and refer to me only as Luna. Is that clear?” The stallion’s stance loosened and his eyes found her without hesitation.
“Yes, Luna. Permission to speak freely, Luna?”
“Always.” The princess narrowed her eyes again. “You wish to speak about Stormcloud?”
“Yes, Luna. Stormcloud says he made it here a week after fleeing Canterlot, so, almost a month ago. Princess Celestia has sent three envoys: a doctor, a social worker, and what I can only guess was a shrink. He talks about you endlessly—you were his entire world—yet a month later and the first we hear of you is that you have just decided to turn up. A month. He’s a mess. He cries in his sleep without even waking up. He changes from wallowing in self-pity to fits of rage in a heartbeat. I’d have had nothing to do with him, but my sister insisted we take him in. She says he needs stability, so I want to know what you plan to do because turning up when you feel like it is unacceptable.”
‘Too fiery’ ran through Luna’s mind. The stallion’s eyes burned, and while he controlled his voice, it still carried a forced stiffness to it. Passion, conviction, strength. She smiled. “It was a long time ago, but I still feel responsible for him. Yet, I am not fit to care for him as I would like and it pleases me that speak for him with such vigour. I believe he needs to know that I have not abandoned him. Beyond that…”
“A month, Luna.” The words hung there for what seemed like minutes. Tears welled up in Luna’s eyes and Firemane’s voice softened. “I assume you have your reasons, but it’s abandonment to him—though, he loves you too much to say.”
Luna sank back to her haunches. “What would you suggest?” she asked quietly. “I cannot offer him stability; I am not the pony he wishes me to be. My… friends,”—the word still didn’t come easily—“think I should distance myself entirely, but presented with two choices that will both bring him pain, I know not what to do.”
“I’m sorry. Starkicker does the touchy-feely thinking; I believe hard truths are preferable. So, uh…” Firemane rubbed his ear—a first sign of nervousness, perhaps? “You obviously care and he’s a lot more perceptive than me… maybe we should ask Star?”
Luna nodded.
“Star!”
Starkicker fell off the clifftop, so startled did she seem to hear her name yelled. A thrashing of legs preceded the use of her wings, and she landed heavily on the outcropping, but her initial embarrassment quickly gave way to a dreamy, wide-eyed stare—the kind of sycophantic, star-struck idolatry that threatened to draw Luna in and steal her strength like some kind of vampire.
The hairs on Luna’s crest bristled and she rose sharply to her hooves again.
“Star,” Firemane said, though Luna couldn’t tell if he were responding to her reaction or his sisters because she couldn’t take her eyes off the mare. “Luna’s isn’t in a place to help with Stormcloud right now. I think she’d appreciate… Star!”
Both mares turned to him, their focus broken, then back to each other.
“Princess?” Starkicker asked. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” The word burst out as Luna fanned her wings. Why should she have to risk opening herself up to satisfy this mare's petty need to validate herself? “Your advice regarding Stormloud is required. That is all.” At least Firemane didn’t seem fazed by her outburst. He’d spoken his mind—had a firm opinion. He was safe.
“I think Luna has agreed to leave him to us,” Firemane added quickly. “She just isn’t sure how to avoid hurting him now.”
Starkicker shrank away under Luna’s glare.
Good. Do us both a service.
“I-I… I mean y-you can’t. N-not really.” The pegaus backed onto the rockface, leaping into the air and spinning in place to see what she’d hit before turning back just as quickly.
Pathetic. Just another selfish cur looking to prey on me for her own—
“Luna!” Firemane’s voice barely penetrated her thoughts. “What in Celestia’s name are you—”
“Silence!” She turned her eyes on the stallion with a sneer and her wings fully spread. He didn’t buckle. On another day she might have liked this one. “You dare mention her name in my presence? She—”
The world stopped.
Luna looked back at the cowering mare, huddled and pressed into the corner where rock and grass met. Small, afraid… not a vampire, nor any other predator.
She turned back to Firemane, distantly aware of her jaw hanging open and ears folded down, but he didn’t look angry. He should have been angry. Sinking to the ground, she muttered ‘I’m sorry’ over and over as the stallion took off, and at first, the need to look up glanced ineffectually off a wall of forced indifference—or perhaps numbness.
That look. That look of pity. That look that said she needed to help. Startkicker had that look, and that need outweighed any fear.
“Come forward,” she said in her cracked voice. The mare walked slowly toward her, the war between conflicting emotions present in her every, tentative step. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…”
“I know …I-I think.” Starkicker glanced up at the cliff top, her movements sharp—her breathing ragged. “Stomcloud already told me a lot. I-I’ll take care of him; I promise. He just n-needs to know that he didn’t do anything wrong. He needs to know it’ll be okay. He needs to know… He needs to know that you’ll be okay. He needs to believe that.”
With a heavy thud and the sound of flapping up above, Stormcloud landed in front of Luna. She stared at him, his face the familiar expression of an unspoken question: ‘Again, Luna?’ She’d missed that look, and for once, maybe, she even missed the undertone of ‘Just hold me and tell me it’ll be all right’.
He didn’t say anything, but then, in all their time she’d never looked this much of a mess. “Come,” she said, patting the ground in front of her. Her tears adhered to no sense of discretion and ran freely before he’d even lowered himself to the ground. By the time he did, she threw her legs around his neck. She was Luna, Princess of the Night, and she didn’t do bawling and wailing, but he was no longer her charge—no longer her responsibility—so perhaps, for once, she could let him see beneath the mask.
She’d come to tell him that she wasn’t coming back, but she’d leave an unwanted trespasser—she was the one who would miss him. How long could she keep making the same mistakes over and over again?
 


Full Moon – Harmony

 
Normally, Celestia would barely react to her entrance. Luna alone had the habit of simply wandering in unannounced—there was a certain mystique to the practice that gave her a sense of ease, like wrapping herself in a protective enigma.
Today wasn’t normal.
“Luna,” the princess said with a familiar spike of concern in her voice—and not the pleasant kind of familiar. She lay on the thick rug of her quiet room before a roaring fireplace, a selection of books, papers, and scrolls strewn about her. “You’ve been gone a whole week. Is everything all right?”
She may as well have said ‘tell your big sister how she can fix everything’, but at least the reason why it rattled Luna’s cage was no longer obfuscated.
For a moment, Luna paused, scanning the wide eyes that glittered with firelight as they regarded her. All else aside, there was no doubt that her sister was at least being authentic.
Forgoing a reply, she stepped forwards, an easily-recognisable book floating at her side, and settled onto the rug with a very precise and intimate closeness. She set the book down before them, closed her eyes, and released a long, pent-up sigh.
“Luna, you’re scaring me. I feel like you’re growing distant again. I know you’ve been busy lately, but I wish you would tell me what’s wrong.”
Be careful what you ask for, sister; it may come back to bite you, and I’ve been known to bear fangs.
Luna still didn’t respond. She was a statue, save for her slow breaths and the light wafting of her starry mane.
Celestia leaned in, craning her neck to draw Luna into a soft embrace. “I love you.”
“I know,” Luna said softly. “But I need to ask you something. I need to know why.”
“Why?” Even with her eyes closed, Luna felt the scrutiny of Celestia’s gaze. “Why what? Why do I love you? Luna, you’re my sister… my only remaining family.”
“Not good enough,” Luna replied, her voice rising with a hard edge.
Before them, the Encyclopaedia of Forbidden Magics opened and rested at the inscription: To my beloved Luna…
“Why did you change the names, sister? At first, I was so happy to be back alongside you that I barely thought about it. Now I can do nought but wonder what it means that I was removed from history entirely.”
“We talked about this,” Celestia replied without a hint of hesitation. “I couldn’t bear to be reminded of you. You said you liked that idea. You said it brought you comfort to know how much I missed you.”
“It did. It still does, but I can’t understand why you’re hiding it now.”
Celestia untangled herself and stared into Luna’s eyes. “What is it you think I’m hiding?”
Luna let her eyes drift shut again, pushing the world away for a moment as her heart rate rose. “I’m hurting them again, Celestia. I am weak, and they pay the price for that weakness.”
“Luna, you’re not—”
“I am.” Luna took a long, slow breath before continuing. “You are amazing, Celestia. The strength it took to build this world around you today is unfathomable. This”—she opened her eyes to stare at the inscription in the book—“was your moment of weakness, wasn’t it? The one time could not face doing what you thought was right.”
Celestia’s voice dropped to barely more than a whisper. “Sister… Luna, it was too painful. I threw myself into rewriting the book, but I dreaded the emptiness that came after. Somehow I dragged it out by almost a century. I can’t even imagine how I did that.”
“I was wrong to be jealous of your strength,” Luna replied. Her heart beat faster with each passing moment. “I tried to be strong. I tried not to be weak. I tried to be what other ponies wanted me to be. I tried to remember what I wanted to be. Always, I failed. Only in seeing that I was weak have I seen the truth.”
Luna opened her eyes again. 
“Show me.” 
This time she returned Celestia’s stare with fire her heart could muster. There. A flicker. A moment of doubt. She knew. By all the stars in the night sky, she knew.
“Show me,” Luna repeated firmly. Her magical mane evaporated, leaving only natural, light-blue curls.
Panic shone in Celestia’s eyes, her chest heaving noticeably with deeper breaths. “I-I don’t understand, Luna.” Her voice betrayed little of the emotion borne by the rest of her.
“Liar.” Luna’s voice, too, held steady in spite of her words. “When I was subjugated, you appeared to save Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy. You used spells that we forbade many centuries ago. You were afraid, Celestia, and I knew it. Just like I knew I would give anything to protect you. I would have destroyed myself, if I could, to keep you safe—”
“Luna!” Celestia’s voice finally cracked, fear twisting her melodic tones into an uncharacteristic squeal. “Please don’t say such things! I can’t lose you, never again.”
Luna didn’t flinch. “I wanted to save you, but Twilight Sparkle did so instead. I hated her, and for a moment I remembered where Nightmare Moon came from. I hated her because she stood in my way. When she spoke, the words wounded us both, deeply. It is to my shame that they worked because my rage ran deeper than my tormentor’s. In that moment, I hated you, too.”
“Why? Why, Luna? I would give anything to know. Whatever it is, it will be all right. I don’t understand. I want to understand.”
“Liar.” Again, Luna’s voice held only cool, even tones. “You refuse to see what is before you. As did I, until the ponies who believe in me left me no alternative. Now you must see, too. You do not trust me, Celestia.”
Staring, wide-eyed, Celestia’s jaw worked soundlessly a few times before words spilled out. “Luna, how can you say that? I have tried to share everything with you. I have tried to push you to do more, given you space to do less. I have allowed you and your guards to do as you please because I trust—”
“No!” The word hung in the air like a psychic aftershock, but it wasn’t Luna’s magical augmentation that left silence in its wake: it was fury. “You shared everything—trusted me with everything—except the part that mattered!”
“Luna…”
Forcing a deep breath, Luna began again in her quiet voice. “You are strong beyond all measure, my beautiful sister. You are always trying to be strong for me, but every time it means hiding from the part I most desire to see. You changed the names because it hurt you, yet you hide that pain from me. You think that you are doing me a service, just as you did before.”
“Luna…”
“Show me!”
This time, Celestia winced as if hoofed in the gut. This time, Celestia looked away.
“Show me,” Luna repeated, softly as falling snow. Inch by inch, Celestia turned back, a tremble in her eyes and tears rolling down her cheeks. “Now take off the mask, and show me the sister I remember.”
Celestia’s coruscating, multi-coloured mane shrunk back to a regular pink that hadn’t been seen by anypony in centuries. “It hurt, Luna,” she said, her voice quivering. “It hurt so much I thought it might kill me. The Elements, they showed me the prophecy, but a thousand years… it was too long to wait! I had to forget...”
“The wait is over, my beloved sister,” Luna whispered, rising to her haunches and pulling her sister’s head into a tender embrace. Celestia began sobbing gently and pressed herself into her sister’s night-blue coat.
“Everypony, myself included, must look up to the sun and give thanks for it. You hold Equestria together with your virtue, strength, and charisma. You seem to do it so effortlessly, and once I was jealous, but it was never because I wanted our subjects to look at me that way. It was only ever that I wanted you to look at me that way. Be the one to hold up all the ponies of Equestria with your strength, my sister, but let me be the one to hold you up when the sun sets. Trust in me, Celestia. Trust me with that which matters most. Trust me with your pain and sorrow, dear sister, and I will show you that I will love you with all my heart, until all the stars in the night sky have burned to nought but dust.”