Sun Blocked
There was always some problem, Luna decided. There was always something that held you back from being entirely happy. A year had passed since her return from exile, and the lesser of two princesses was resigning herself to this evident truth.
Take Lotion Hoof. He was a little old stallion. Currently he was a little old stallion standing in the castle’s main council chamber, under Princess’ Luna’s baleful stare. On second thought, standing was too strong a word for it. Lotion Hoof trembled like a leaf in autumn and withered under her glare; the full attention of a Princess far too much for him to handle. He tried to steady his glasses on his nose and they clicked against his shaking hoof. His eyes were large and watery.
“You are Lotion Hoof, are you not?” said Luna, unfurling a colourful poster between them. “And is this not the name of your shop here,” she said, flicking the poster so that it rippled in the air, “Cream Cares on Apricot Street?”
Her latent magic seemed to burn other light from the air, leaving things slightly darker than they otherwise ought to be. Outside it was the glory of summer, but here it was shady, and tinted with midnight blue and the darkest shades of purple. She knew just how intimidating the ethereal lights could be. She let them carry on intimidating, because so far, Lotion Hoof had earned very little of her patience, or her pity.
Lotion’s voice caught in his throat. “It, it is. Cream Cares. Um,” he said, “ ‘Affordable prices. Excellent quality. Hygienics and cosmetics from ponies that care about you.’ That’s, um... us. Our motto,” said Lotion, feeling bad.
“Yes, yes,” said Luna impatiently. “And do you see the problem here?” she asked, jutting the poster forwards. It was too much to ask of a pony suffering acute social class vertigo, and Luna wasn’t entirely remorseless. In a marginally softer tone she asked instead, “What is Celestia doing in this image?”
“She-she’s... flying.”
“What else?”
“She’s...flying in the sky. The sun’s behind her. And-and and...her hair is on fire...um, it is fire...”
“So I noticed,” said Luna icily. “What else is there?”
“And she’s, she’s, um, raining sunlight down. That’s the white lines coming down,” Lotion explained wretchedly.
“Indeed. Now, would you say that my sister, Celestia, is raining down sunlight in a manner that makes the day bright and the plants grow green, or, for instance, in an attempt to burn to a cinder the world, and say, this prancing pony here?”
“The...the second one?”
“It would seem that way, would it not.” Luna took a deep breath. Her sigh was a hiss of air. “I have been away for some years, as I’m sure you are aware. So perhaps I misunderstand something. Is my sister, Celestia — whom is thine princess need I remind you? — known for turning evil and raining terrible solar destruction down upon her nation and its subjects?”
Lotion Hoof vibrated in terror. His voice quavered. “No?”
“No,” said Luna, her voice cold and brittle. Shadows crept over Luna’s expression. “Celestia is not known for such things.”
“The-the pony is smiling,” Lotion Hoof managed to point out.
Indeed the prancing pony was. She was the centre of the piece and considerably larger than tyrant Celestia — detailed with uncharacteristic black and red highlights — due to style and perspective. The pony was beaming brightly and, being a pegasus, had wings that she displayed proudly. Her head was high and her legs had the high-stride of absolute self-confidence, despite the fearsome intent on Celestia’s face and the intensity of her fires. The white lines of the sunlight cut through the sky, terminating just inches from the mare’s glossy, delicate coat and feathers, which seemed to repel them with an impenetrable and form-fitting defense. In a world of heat and desiccation, the centrefold mare exuded coolness, comfort and refreshment.
Luna, having been educated on the nature of comics by Spike the dragon, and — it had to be said — Celestia, who enjoyed the newspapers’ politicals — recognized the speech bubble for what it was.
“I protect myself from SUN BURN this summer with CREAM CARES!” said the poster mare in large bubbly text.
The ground under the prancing pony’s hooves fell away, in lieu of more words. Luna read the words. Cream Cares sun block. Non-greasy. Moisturizing and fragrance neutral. Completely invisible. Completely effective for up to six hours. Suitable for all coat types and colours.
Another speech bubble dove underground just to get a word in, this time attached to a little smiling picture of the mare’s face. It’s perfect for my feathers, too! Cream Cares is there for all my cosmetic and hygienic needs. Thank YOU, Cream Cares! Apricot Street, Canterlot!
“My granddaughter is very talented,” said Lotion, too loving to remember his terror. “Such a sweet little filly, is our little...” He stopped, blinked and started. “But she-she had nothing to do with this! I did it! I did...I did the... the picture.”
Lotion was a terrible liar, and it sat between them like a big lump in the air. The air fell silent — expectant — and Lotion waited.
It made Luna increasingly uncomfortable. She drew her gaze away, then took a step towards the great stained windows. She always ended up at the same one, without ever really meaning to.
Luna felt irritable. More so, she felt bad. When a harmless little old stallion stood up to you and lied to your face in the belief that he was protecting his granddaughter, something somewhere had gone wrong. What she needed was-
“Oh,” said Celestia, and in that one innocent syllable half the shadows seemed to vanish. “Here you are, sister.”
Luna shivered imperceptibly with shame and delight before she even turned to greet her sister. It was the way Celestia seemed so genuinely pleased to see Luna each and every time they met, day in and day out, even if they had only separated for a moment or an hour. It was as if Luna brightened Celestia’s world like her own sun brightened everypony elses’. In turn, that brightened Luna’s. Luna felt incredibly loved, but undeserving of it.
Celestia’s hooves rang gently against the floor, like chimes. “There was something you wanted me to see? And hello, Mr. ..?”
“Hoof,” said the stallion in awe. “Lotion Hoof. Your highness.”
Celestia nodded curtly. “The pleasure is mine. Luna, I understand you had concerns about something?”
“Yes, sister. Namely that your image is being used slanderously. Look here,” said Luna, offering the offensive article.
“A poster?” Celestia asked as it moved from Luna’s magic to hers.
“Indeed. I fear there are more copies still out in the streets, being seen even now.”
“ ‘Sun Burn’...” Celestia intoned slowly, her voice trying out the sound of it like a connoisseur sampling a blind vintage.
Therein passed a long moment of deliberation. Celestia asked, “Did you make this, Mr. Hoof?”
“It was my- me. It was me.” His voice squeaked on the last syllable.
“I like the colouring. Imaginative. Very fanciful. You have a youthful eye, Lotion Hoof. Luna, what did you think of the artwork?”
“Artwork? It is thine image, defaced!”
“I can see that.” Celestia waved her horn and a soft pulse emitted from it. Luna recognized the spell easily. While not a true time-stop, for the glamour simply tampered with perceptions, for a minute or so the alicorns would be afforded much the same privacy. Conventional privacy was not always an option for an alicorn, and a spell that could create it, even for shorts moments only, was timelessly useful.
Lotion Hoof faded into the apparent background just as, to his eyes, the alicorns became indiscernible and unmemorable blurs. For a short time, it would be as if he wasn’t there at all.
“Are you alright, Luna?”
Luna sniffed. “I don’t understand how you can be so indifferent about this. A pony of Canterlot is misrepresenting your image for personal gain!”
“A pony of Canterlot is using my image and connotations to remind others about the risks of excessive sun exposure. A few might even be spared a painful burn this summer. Neither of us are wrong.”
“It’s defamation, sister! It’s abuse! Why would you stand for this?”
“I don’t feel abused.” Celestia laughed lightly, a heavenly sound. “In fact, I think I like Sun Burn, as villain names go. I remember Solar Flare being a popular choice, for a time, though sometimes it was Solar Mare. Sun Spot, while cute, was always a little too cute, like I were a sidekick. Nightmare Sun always felt rather derivative.”
Celestia closed the gap and they were together. “Luna, look at me. If we asked this pony here, do you think he would truly believe this is an accurate representation of me?”
Luna scowled and shook her head.
“Or the..?” Celestia pouted.
“Granddaughter,” Luna said. “It was his granddaughter that made this, as I understand it.”
“Ah, I thought it was the work of a younger hoof. Luna, a younger Hoof?” Celestia nudged her sister, but her spirits were not so easily lifted, instead simply enduring the humour with poor graces.
“I don’t understand. How can you make light of this?”
“It’s just a colourful drawing. These ponies know better than to take it seriously. I know better. You know better.
“Oh Luna,” said Celestia before pulling her sister into a hug that made Luna’s eyes go wide in surprise. “You feel so much. It’s okay to poke some fun at the darkness. It doesn’t have to spoil your happiness.”
Luna’s wings hung lax. She tucked her face against her sister’s shoulder, and was sheltered under a white wing in turn, like she had done when they were young. “Celestia...” she murmured, lost in a cloud of feathers.
“It’s okay to forgive yourself, Luna. You may well be the only pony in all Equestria who still hasn’t.”
There was a quiet time, broken only by Luna’s feather-hushed whisper. “I’m not ready.”
“I know,” murmured Celestia. “But I believe in you.”
Luna simply let herself be held. Nopony gives hugs like Celestia. No pony.
“What shall we do with Lotion Hoof?” Celestia asked after much relative time had passed.
“Returned home in one piece,” Luna mumbled.
“The spell’s about to end, Luna.”
“...don’t care.”
“Then I don’t care either. Maybe, though, just another minute...” Celestia suggested coyly.
Luna felt the tingle as her sister extended the magical moment.
Celestia gently rocked them and hummed under her breath. “Let’s go somewhere tomorrow,” she said “Just you and me for the day. Not a single other pony, just us two. I’m thinking tropical beaches; sea-stars and palm trees.”
“You cannot be serious, sister!” Luna grumbled, lifting her nose from from her dwelling place.
“I am entirely serious, little sister. No guards, no escorts ...or perhaps a few cute ones to stand around and look at, whichever option you prefer. We can sun ourselves and splash in the water or roll on the sand or just rest in the shade. I’ll even make us up a picnic basket,” Celestia said, giving her sister a squeeze. “My treat.”
Luna giggled and Celestia smiled with relief. “But,” Luna struggled to speak for giggles, “but Equestria. The danger!”
Celestia gave her sister another squeeze, sighed and let her go. “Oh, nonsense. Equestria is just fine for a few hours without us. A bit of stress and the occasional sudden panic is healthy for the nobility, I’ve learned. They stop scheming for power when they have it dropped in their laps and realize that really, it’s just paperwork, good listening skills and telling ponies to do the things they already know to do best but still feel they have to ask permission to do.”
“As for the danger...” Celestia said slyly, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial tone. “I happen to have very recently discovered a provider of sun block. Suitable for all coat types and colours.”
She whispered in Luna’s ear. “It’s perfect for feathers, too.”
And that’s how, when the glamour lifted, Lotion Hoof found his two princesses: laughing quite uncontrollably, propping themselves up with one another so that they wouldn’t fall down, legs kicking and wings flicking. His fear was mostly transformed to bewilderment, and even that turned largely to uncomprehending relief and reassurance when eventually, one of the more experienced and wiser castle guards quietly gentled him away from the two sisters and escorted him out of the castle and all the way home.
Lotion Hoof didn’t ask for the poster back, which was just as well: Luna had decided to keep it.
The next day, they did go to a distant and beautiful beach, just them. They did sun themselves, splash in the water and roll in the sand. Celestia was true to her word regarding the picnic basket, even if they both forgot to bring the sun block along. But there will always be small considerations, and the sisters managed just as well without. It helped that they were alicorns of great magic, of course, but also that Luna wanted most of all, more than sunning, splashing or sand, to simply rest in the shade. Celestia was happiest staying with her in the shade, too.
And so another day passed in peace, and the night followed.