In times like these, she wished she could come up with an excuse to part ways that wouldn’t sound too contrived or too rude. That was something that surprised Celestia—she actually cared about Discord’s feelings. On a “normal” night he’d probably act like a huge child, and she’d end up forcing laughter at his off-color humor, then spend her evening plucking out bits of food from her mane that he’d discreetly stashed there as a prank. For the moment he was pacified, but by what absurd magic, she hadn’t a clue.
Discord was leaning against the railing beside her, his yellow eyes drawn to a point directly overhead. Celestia drew her lips in tight, sucking a draught of evening air in a hesitant gasp. This had turned into a night when, unexpectedly, she was glad of his company, yet still uncomfortable with how close he was, or tried to be with her. Any excuse she tried to make in her head got crushed by unexpected sympathy for the draconequus.
Beyond the balcony shadows slid over the hedge maze and rose bushes in the royal gardens, and fireflies blinked into existence, duplicating themselves in reflections over the pond. Stars were coming out as Luna gently woke the night.
Luna had insisted on making the night sky extra-special for Celestia and Discord that night, if only to give their dinner the proper backdrop and punctuation. She spoke often of the aesthetics of stars, how each bright pinprick thrust through the fabric of space as if their purpose was simply to be seen. She was the princess of the night so she tended to say things like that. Upon hearing Luna’s suggestion that she would make the stars “something to behold” just for her big sister and Discord on their first date, Celestia vetoed the idea immediately (even insisting that Luna place some bad omens in the night sky in case Discord didn’t get the hint).
After a time having said nothing Celestia let out her breath in one profound sigh. She rested her hooves over the railing and watched Discord out of the corner of her eye, noting his breathing, the steady rising of his chest. Earlier he had been inept, his motions tentative like he’d never supped with royalty before. There were little things in the way he held his napkin, or the cautious nature with which he approached dessert—almost fearfully, she thought. It was all a barely-embraced form of restraint. Forced etiquette. Hijinks benched for the night. The dinner was a favor she owed Discord for solving the Cloudsdale snowstorm misfire crisis last summer. It was supposed to be a simple tit-for-tat. A one-timer. “He shouldn’t read into it,” she thought. The request seemed harmless enough when he’d asked a week ago.
“I think you can bear to be in the same room with me for a few hours, Celestia. It’s only dinner, after all. We’ll make small talk about how overcooked the asparagus is, demolish a bottle of champagne, then bid each other good-night over smooches. Just kidding about that last part,” he’d concluded sheepishly. There was an uncommon shyness in his expression, accented by the tapping his claws made against each other.
Celestia had said: “If that’s all you want, and my debt to you will be repaid.”
“Absolutely,” Discord replied with a nod. “Tell your chefs to get started on that asparagus.”
***
When Luna was banished Celestia began to realize how truly unique her sister’s nighttime arrangements were. The moon was easier to raise than the sun. Stars, especially those crucial to navigational purposes by distant mariners, were meant to be lit in accordance with the seasons, and Celestia never paid them any special attention, caught up as she was in the dreamkeeping duties her sister had once maintained.
There was something Luna had done to the stars while they were under her care, a very subtle trick. Mostly it involved light intensity—a few particular stars emphasized above the others in their glow. Luna had kept secret from her sister that she’d studied the stars more deeply than their motions and names, and that there was an untapped source of, not exactly magic, but persuasion in their being. There were specific latitudes ponies followed in the night sky when they needed guidance, whether consciously or unconsciously, but certainly instinctively—a sort of reflective glance at the celestial ceiling. Lonely ponies sought solace in the space above the western horizon. Great artists traced their eyes around the nine stars which formed the constellation Calliope, The Muse. And it was not uncommon for a mare to stare slightly above the moon while she hung her chin on a stallion’s shoulder, about to whisper “I love you” in his ear.
Luna addressed her sister over a cup of morning tea: “It’s the kind of magic that breaks deep sleep enchantments. Curses, you know. Powerful hexes that are hard to clean without cosmological forces.”
Celestia was concerned by her sister’s magic when, after hearing her explain it again, she still didn’t understand how it worked. Two weeks had passed since her dinner with Discord (neither had spoken a word to each other in that time) and the feelings she felt for him now—demure when he was near, loneliness when he wasn’t—she thought must have had something to do with Luna’s stellar arrangement that night.
“Forgive me, sister, but you might have to clarify again,” she replied. Her hooves clutched a nearly-empty teacup. “A second ago you were saying how much it resembled hypnosis, so I’m not sure how now you’re describing it as a counter-curse.”
“My meaning,” said Luna, gulping down the remnants of her omelette, “was that the two are very similar. Somepony can be cursed by a pacifying hypnotic suggestion, which is to say, convincing her to remain asleep. All she requires to be woken is the correct trigger. True love’s first kiss—that’s the most classic example. There are plenty of others, but if you wish to bypass it entirely, what you need is another deep hypnosis to convince you to awaken.”
Celestia cast a wary glance to her sister, levitating a honey-slathered scone toward her mouth. “Can you be hypnotized when you’re already asleep?”
Luna shrugged. “Easily. The subconscious is highly impressionable.”
When they were both fillies, Luna managed to get away with any mischief shy of murder, and Celestia, being the older sister, bore the brunt of the blame from their elders. She once had a unicorn tutor to teach her about gardening—a very aged, rickety frame with stilt-like legs, complete with shrubby brown beard—who demanded punctuality for his pre-sunrise lessons and punished tardiness by conjuring weeds into the flowerbeds. For weeks Celestia saw nothing but weeds, because somehow she’d managed to sleep through her alarm clock, something she’d never done before. She suspected Luna of tampering with it while she slept, but locking her bedroom door didn’t solve the problem. It wasn’t until she closed her window at night, sealing herself from the prying glare of the stars, was she able to wake early enough for her lessons. She could never confirm it had been Luna’s fault. Her clock didn’t show any signs of tampering, and the mystery lingered at the back of her mind for years.
“I trust you, Luna, but you understand why I had to ask,” she said. There was a weary quality to her voice, suggesting a lack of sleep or overstress—it being less than a month until the Grand Galloping Gala, and preparations for the event stacked atop her typical princess duties. Discord had extended his invitation via post, this time unable to claim any favors.
“I’m certain Discord has the ability to woo you without magic, if he desired,” said Luna, rising from the breakfast table. “I think that love, in its own way, is a kind of chaos. Thwarting logic, driving us to do the impossible. Sounds like the kind of thing that would come naturally to him.”
At this Celestia dropped her teacup, accepting—even fearing—that Luna’s statement was correct. “I’d never considered it like that before.” And she was silent for a time after, disregarding the warm dregs of her tea seeping across the tile floor.
***
“He looked lost, vacant. Like, he had that kind of look sailors get when they’ve heard a siren. All empty because their souls have drifted out of their bodies, lured by the haunting melody.”
After mulling it over in her brain, Luna decided that was the most appropriate description—a beguiled sailor. She’d heard ponies tell stories about them when she made travels to the coast: “Ponies that’d been blinked out of their wits.” It wasn’t only sirens that could drive you mad, but sea serpents, leviathans, all manner of eldritch creatures that lurked beneath the dark waves, where only the bravest (or most foolish) sailor ponies dared to venture. Ponies would tell stories of their mates who were lucky enough to survive such encounters with the deep. They would wander around coastal towns, stumble out of taverns with their drawn faces and distant eyes, then find themselves washed up on the beach the next day, not knowing how they got there.
She had known Discord for some thousand years, ever since his attempted usurpation of Equestria, when she and her sister had initially sealed him in stone. He was a character that could turn the natural laws of the universe inside-out, make you think up was down by literally making it so. Chaos was simply his nature. It was in his name. She came to understand that interacting with him meant leaving her imagination open to the impossible.
“Foolishness,” Discord said aloud, chin slumped between his claws. He dragged his gaze skyward. “It’s a foolish idea. There’s no hyperbole for it besides ‘lunacy,’ no offense.”
It was only the two of them sitting together on the rim of a gurgling fountain in the castle courtyard. Luna liked the sound of the water and spent many evenings here while she crafted the night. Here she could weave her tapestry of stars as an artist in her studio. There was a calming texture to the flagstones beneath her hooves, a hypnotic rhythm to the bubble of the fountain—it all coalesced into a sturdy easel and vibrant palette of sensations, and here she performed her work.
Halfway through the night, Discord manifested himself as the little statue atop the fountain, spitting water from his mouth. When at last Luna noticed him, she tried to act surprised. She knew that was what he loved best.
“I’ll agree, you’re absolutely insane,” said Luna, smirking. She nudged Discord in a friendly manner, which was completely uncharacteristic for her.
“I’m insane,” said Discord. “I’m insane,” he repeated, more glumly.
“Yes. I don’t think you could be anything else.”
Discord jolted, his mouth hanging partially open, then retreated to a moody silence.
Luna smiled. “My sister wouldn’t have it any other way, you know.”
“Honestly? Nah, that couldn’t be. She doesn’t have a crazy bone in her body.”
“How long have you known her?”
Discord huffed through his teeth. There was a weightiness in the silence that followed which Luna felt had gained distinctly more momentum, as though all of Discord’s uncertainty and shyness had finally reached that critical mass which toppled his confidence. It spoke of vast swaths of empty time that had been spent on pointless pursuits, and vaster, emptier futures. It was a loaded silence—a vocal silence. She dipped her hoof into the water, letting it swirl and simmer.
“You should talk to her,” said Luna, lifting her hoof from the water. “As I recall she still owes you a favor for cleaning up that freak snowstorm last summer. Pose the question under that pretense, but find her before the Gala. In a few weeks she’ll be swamped with preparations, and try to use that as an excuse. Let her know your thoughts, your feelings. Let her know you.”
She set her damp hoof on Discord’s shoulder. In that moment he looked so much like those enchanted sailors she’d heard of in sea tales—all drawn and distant like he’d wander off into the night and wake up the next morning to the sound of crashing waves and crying gulls, not knowing how he’d got there.
Discord shook his head plaintively and said, “I’m not ready,” and for the rest of the night resigned himself to staring wordlessly at the stars.
Luna frowned. There was more to Discord than he was giving himself credit for. In every other aspect of his life he’d never needed to check his footing before stepping out into the unknown. He lived like a leaf in the river, or a spark of flame following the tastiest, most flammable pathway in a piece of rotting wood.
The wind whispered a mute tune. Discord stared into space, perhaps hoping an answer would plummet into his lap. His face, blank as a waveless ocean.
Out at sea, with no landmarks, Luna knew how vital it was to align the stars to keep sailors oriented so they could arrive safely at their destination. During her earliest lessons at night-keeping, she was so amazed by how many lives depended on the night sky. Even the sea itself, so untamable, chaotic, and aloof, moved to the guiding touch of the moon. At night she felt the rest of the universe gently tugging at her—to somewhere. The day after, perhaps? From that time so early in her youth she’d maintained the belief that all living creatures sought guidance in the stars.
She traced the line of Discord’s gaze to a point in the sky. Two stars directly overhead: Euripides and Theo, The Dancers. An idea came to her that was typically a last resort. Discord knew the course he wanted to take. All he needed was the right stars to give his charted course more confidence.
As the night wore on into morning, Discord sat with his back to the water, watching The Dancers spin through space until they faded into the grey dawn.
***
Now it was late Autumn, and this charcoal-dusted woody air that filtered through the dying leaves always had a negative effect on her mane. Spread it thin and dried it out. Like a corn husk. Her sister somehow kept her mane stunningly spectral throughout every season, and it made Celestia self-conscious whenever she and Luna shared their presence during Fall banquets and state dinners.
“The sun’s too harsh on it,” Luna had told her. “You need to wash your mane in moonlight if you want it to stay fresh year round.” That had been her advice, which Celestia had not yet tried.
She couldn’t get her mane right for the Gala. It felt like a sand castle collapsing under its own weight without the right proportions of moisture. Discord had once made the general statement that her mane looked like “a rainbow-possessed shower curtain.” She wondered what he must be thinking of it now.
They shared a small table to the side of the ballroom floor, taking their turns casting glances to the dancers. Music and laughter filled the air.
Celestia hadn’t looked at the dancers for a while now. She stared directly through her champagne glass, watching the energetic bubbles float midst the amber lense coating Discord’s purple tie. He’d actually dressed up for the occasion, even groomed his goatee. Celestia lifted her hoof beneath her mane, hyper-aware of its inadequacy.
The air grew warmer, or at least it felt so.
To her relief, Discord suggested they move out to the balcony. The air outside was far cooler and far more calm. The vague titter of gala attendees blended into the background beneath crickets chirps and the hiss of fallen leaves stirred by the wind. Luna had once more dressed the night sky with stunning brilliance, though tonight most ponies would be safe and warm beneath roofs and and string music, and miss it entirely. That was fine. Celestia felt she would steal the night for herself and Discord. Together they would capture the stars like a billion diamonds and hide them away. Nopony would be the wiser—except, of course, her sister.
Thinking of Luna caused her to stir against the railing. Had Luna moved the stars that moved her heart? Did she delight in playing Matchmaker in the Moon? She was disturbed, and was surprised that she could be so suspicious of her sister. She realized it had taken most of her energy just to remain suspicious all last month. But, what motive could she possibly have? On the other hoof, why did it matter? Because how could she know if it was meant to be? To bring Celestia and Discord together—but maybe they were always drifting closer and she hadn’t noticed where the current was taking her.
Discord caught her unease and reached a claw around her shoulder. His touch was a sprinkle of rain tingling the skin beneath her coat with electric pinpricks. It was a shower of flame, a blazing cascade that lit up her neck with a heat that crawled all the way up to her face.
As she leaned her head against Discord’s shoulder, the questions lingered for a while longer. Should she wonder? And what—if she were happy, maybe it was better she didn’t wonder. She also thought, if feelings could be so easily manufactured, they wouldn’t feel this genuine.
That was a nice thought.
The moon was cold and bright. The fur on Discord’s warm chest bristled beneath her steady breaths. She hung there on the edge of a glorious mystery, thinking of a way to brush away the silence, wave it away like smoke from a room. She searched the night sky for the right words, her eyes settling in space, slightly above the moon.