//------------------------------//
// Requiem in D Minor, "Dies Irae" 
// Story: Celestia XVII 
// by brokenimage321 
//------------------------------//

I didn’t need to push open the door to the ballroom: it already hung partway off its hinges. I ducked under the yellow CAUTION tape and stepped inside. I was still a little woozy from the drugs, but at least I’d convinced the doctors to let me leave the IV behind--not to mention give me a brace for my bad leg.

As I stepped inside, the breath caught in my throat. The hall was dark, but even by the silvery light of the moon, I could see the devastation. Half the ceiling had collapsed when the pillar fell, and broken stone and shattered glass lay scattered all across the floor. Everywhere, there were upended tables and chairs, shards of shattered china, broken lamps and bent candlesticks. It looked like a museum had exploded: unimaginable luxury, and total devastation all at once.

My throat tightened. I had made it out, more-or-less alright… I just hope that no one else was hurt too badly because of me—

Crack.

I looked up. I had thought the room was empty, but I had heard, clear as day, the sound of breaking china. I narrowed my eyes and swept the room again with my gaze—and this time, I saw her.

Luna.

She stood by the fallen pillar, facing away from me, still wearing her gown from the Gala. She picked halfheartedly at the debris, then turned and looked out at the moon. For several long seconds, she did not move.

As I watched her, I realized that I was frightened. I wasn’t the only one to blame for what had happened tonight, but I doubted that Luna would be especially concerned with the intricacies of who was guilty. Either way, this was my single biggest screw-up to date, bar none. If Luna had rode my ass before, I couldn’t imagine what she was going to do to me now...

But she could help you, Bloob had said. If only you made the first move...

I swallowed, then descended the steps.

As I walked, my brace banged on the floor.

Clip-clop, clip-BONK, clip-clop, clip-BONK.

I winced, but I clip-BONKed my way down the stairs and across the floor. The walk was only a hundred yards or so, but it felt like miles—and Luna did not move a muscle.

I clip-BONKed up to within twenty feet of her, then stopped. She still hadn’t moved: she still stood there, turned three-quarters away from me, cold and still as if she’d been carved from black marble.

I watched her for another moment—and my eyes widened. No, she wasn’t perfectly still: she was trembling. She was trembling, and her chest was rising and falling in short, jerky bursts, and tears glistened in her eyes. For the entire time I’d known her, Luna had kept her emotions in check—but now, unless I missed my guess, she was fighting to hold back a storm the likes of which I’d never seen.

But I couldn’t back out now. Not when I’d come so far. Not with Bloob behind me.

So I swallowed. And licked my lips.

“Aunt Luna,” I said, my voice echoing in the vast emptiness of the hall.

Luna pinned her ears back, and I flinched. I hesitated, then swallowed again. “I… I just wanted to let you know,” I said, “that I’m sorry for ruining the Gala. I’m sure you were looking forward to it, too…" I looked down at the floor. "...and I’m sorry that it ended like this.”

The echoes of my voice died away. For several heartbeats, she did not react. Then, she opened her mouth.

“You are sorry,” she repeated, her voice low and cold.

I nodded. “I am.”

She shook her head. “No,” she said, “no, you are not.”

She looked over her shoulder at me, and I shrank back. She snarled, then turned to face me. Her gaze had always been ice—but now, her eyes were full of fire.

“I warned you,” she hissed, stalking forward. “I warned you. Every single day, for the past four months, I warned you this would happen. And now you are sorry.” 

I took a step backwards, away from her. “Aunt Lu—”

“Shut up,” she spat. My eyes bulged, and I closed my mouth with a snap. ”You insolent child—when will you realize that there is more at stake than fun? Equestria lives and dies by us—and to spend all your waking hours crying about the weight of your Peytral  is mere—” She gave a rasping sort of snarl.

I glanced up. Her horn was starting to glow at the tip. “Aunt Luna,” I said firmly, forcing the tremble out of my voice, “you need to calm down—”

“I will not be calm!”  she roared, lightning arcing up her horn. “You shirk your responsibilities! You flounce off whenever you please! You insult and defy those who would help you! And the Sun Stone—your sacred charge, your one, single responsibility, the only thing that keeps Equestria alive—to you, it is merely a burden you would be rid of as soon as possible. You disgust me,” she spat.

I backed away from her, trying to fight the tears down, but she kept advancing, the fire in her eyes growing higher, the light in her horn growing brighter.

“And then, tonight,” she growled, “I allowed you to attend the Gala because it seemed you had learned. But you took this opportunity—this one chance to change all our fates—and you destroyed it. You were more worried about you and your friends having fun than you were about showing Equestria that you could be the Princess it needs. And look what you did,” she growled, throwing a hoof wide. “Half the hall destroyed. A dozen ponies injured, hundreds more insulted. You were supposed to make allies tonight, to rally support behind you—but instead, you broke hearts, broke bones, and made enemies. All because you were more concerned with fun than the burdens you must bear.”

I bumped up against a pillar and let out a little shriek. And still, she advanced, towering over me, fiery anger and open hatred in her eyes. She lowered her head to meet my gaze.

“Aunt Luna,” I said, my voice trembling, “I know. And I’m sorry. And I’m trying—”

“It is far too late now for sorry,” she hissed. “You’ve made it clear through your actions that your people mean nothing to you.” She glared down at me, eyes full of wrath and hatred. When she spoke again, her voice was suddenly low and dangerous. “If this is the path you’ve chosen,” she said, “I may as well grant your wish. Give me your Peytral, and I will give Equestria the Queen it deserves…” she narrowed her eyes. “Or will you defy me again, Princess Helia?”

My eyes widened. I knew, somewhere in the back of my brain, that there was no room for error. That this was the single most important moment of my short life. That what I said next would determine if the sun ever rose again.

But, even with that knowledge, I couldn’t help myself.

“Helia?” I squawked.

Luna’s eyes bulged, and she jerked her head back. She started trembling again, and she swallowed, several times, without speaking. She almost seemed to shrink a bit before my very eyes.

“Aunt Luna,” I said carefully, “what did you just call me?”

She swallowed again. “C-Cecelia,” she said, her voice shaking. “Cece,” she corrected herself. “Celestia.”

I slowly shook my head. “No,” I said. “You called me Helia.”

She flinched as if I’d struck her, then she bowed her head. “I did,” she said, in a small voice. “I did.”

I peered into her face, and she looked away. I took a deep breath, ready to snap at her—but then, something very strange happened.

She squeezed her eyes shut, and a single tear rolled down her cheek.

There’s more happening than you know, Blueblood had said.

What are you saying?

I don’t know. Just… she’s having a hard time, too. 

“Luna,” I said gently, “What’s going on?”

Luna turned away.

“Aunt Luna,” I said, taking a half-step forward, “please—tell me. I won’t judge.”

Luna took a deep, trembling breath, then looked up at me. “What do you know,” she said quietly, “of myself and Helia?”

I shrugged. “Just what’s in the history books,” I said. “Second Princess. Built Canterlot. And she—” I hesitated. “She fought you. You were jealous of her getting the Peytral instead of your own daughter, so you turned into...” I swallowed, leaving the name unsaid.

She chuckled darkly, but the laugh faltered. She sighed again.

“That’s… half-right,” she admitted. “Though, jealous isn’t the word…”

She gazed around at the hall. “She… was like you, in many ways, Helia was,” she said. “Young. Headstrong. Arrogant. Persuasive, too.” She looked up at me, with eyes that were suddenly deep and sad. “I think you must have inherited your gift for words from her.” She sighed. “But…”

She glanced at me again, and I nodded encouragingly. She flashed a hint of a smile, then continued.

“It was a hard time, you understand,” she said. “Equestria had never before had a Princess, let alone two. There were dozens of claimants to the Sun Throne, and a thousand more opinions on who should get it. I…” she hesitated. “I will admit, my Selene was one of the popular alternatives. And she would have made a good Princess, too—she was kind, and wise, and level-headed…” She chuckled again. “She took after her father, she did…”

I bit my lip, but said nothing.

Luna glanced up at me, then back down at the floor. “But, despite my opinions,” she continued,
“Helia was the most logical choice. So, when they asked me to settle the dispute, I chose her.”

My eyes widened. “You chose Helia?”

She nodded. “I did. After a fashion, at least. The legalists and lawyers came to me and presented the various cases, then asked me to make a ruling. And, despite my misgivings, I chose Helia.”

“So—you’re—!”

She looked up at me again. I flinched—but her look this time was neither ice nor fire. Instead, there lay a deep, bottomless sorrow.

“I never said I was guiltless, Your Highness,” she said. “Only that I was innocent of the charges.”

I shut my mouth, then sat on the floor.

Luna chuckled again. “Indeed,” she said, then took a deep breath. “I don’t blame her for consolidating her power, for controlling the narrative, after I… after we fought. But still, it was... unpleasant to hear what she’d said about me.”

I nodded. It may have been the drugs, but my head was definitely spinning now.

Luna sighed, then sat as well. “You were like her in other ways, too,” she said quietly. “She didn’t want to listen to me either. But, though you are simply… difficult, she was…” Luna shook her head. “Do you know the first thing she did?” she asked. “Her first official act after she was crowned Princess? Before her mother was even cold in the ground?”

“She… she started building Canterlot, didn’t she?” I replied.

Luna smiled sadly. “No,” she said. “She started building the pleasure palace that became Canterlot.”

My eyes grew even wider. “P-pleasure palace?”

Luna nodded. “During the biggest political crisis in centuries,” she said, “when even one misstep could spell doom for us all, Helia lifted funds from a treasury that could ill afford it, and commissioned a new palace. A palace of marble and gold. Built on a mountaintop, far away from the plains where our people lived. Filled with gardens, fountains, and a menagerie. And surrounded by a wall that would do nothing to keep out enemies, but everything to keep out… undesirables.” She looked up at me. “Do you see?” she asked, her voice shaking. “Do you see why we fought? It was I who turned to the Old Magics… but it was she who…” Luna started to tremble again. “I wanted to help… to show her how to be better… but she… she… she twisted my words, and pushed me… pushed and needled until… until—” She trembled. “And you—” she said, her voice low and rough. She hesitated, then looked up at me, anger and sorrow and panic all mixed-up in those eyes of hers. “You’re making the same mistakes as she,” she said.

The breath caught in my throat. Luna looked away.

“You are proud,” she said, her voice low and rough. “And headstrong. And you are more worried about yourself—your own happiness, your own comfort, your own prestige—than doing what needs to be done.” She swallowed, a jerky, painful motion. “If it comes to it… if the choice became serving yourself, or saving Equestria…” She shook her head. “I do not know… I do not think you could...”

She bit her lip. And, suddenly, she began to cry.

As I watched her sitting there, hunched over and broken, my eyes widened. The pony sitting in front of me was no longer Princess Loonie, my slave-driver. Nor was she Nightmare Moon, my usurper and destined enemy. For the first time since I’d known her—possibly, for the first time in her life—the pony sitting in front of me was merely Luna.

Luna—old, frightened, and alone. She’d woken in a world that had forgotten everything about her, save for her greatest mistake, the one thing that she, herself, could never forget. A world where everything and everyone she’d loved had turned to dust a thousand years ago. The two ponies in the world that mattered most to her were myself and Twilight—a little Helia, and a little Selene. One, she thought she could save; the other, she thought could save her. She had tried everything she knew how, but, no matter what she did, Twilight feared her for it, and I hated her.

Just like the world feared and hated her. Just like she feared and hated herself.

I swallowed, already feeling the tears rising. I sat there, watching her, for a long while. Should I leave her be? Wait for her to finish? Should I start crying, too?

But I did none of those things. After a long moment, I stood. Then, slowly, I walked towards her—and, for the first time in my life, I wrapped my arms around her.

To my surprise, Luna hugged me back and buried her face in my coat. As she sobbed, my mind frantically spun, trying to process exactly what was happening.

This was… new. Luna—old, hard-nosed, battleaxe Luna—stood so much taller than me, I hadn’t realized how thin she was. As I held her in my arms, she felt so slight, so fragile, so weak… I could feel her bones rubbing together underneath her skin. For just a second, I was afraid that I would never be able to let go of her—because, if I did, she would fall to the floor and shatter.

But then, something about the way I held her triggered a memory. Something deep inside my brain bubbled up to the surface. There had been a time, so long ago, when my world had fallen apart and my wings were brand-new, and all I needed was to know that someone cared. That someone was there for me. And, back then, someone had held me, just like this...

And suddenly, I knew what I had to do.

I cleared my throat. The noise made Luna look up. I just smiled back.

“I, Celestia the Seventeenth of Equestria,” I began, in slow, stately tones, “Sixty-Third Princess of the Sun and bearer of the Peytral Aurum, do, in my need, call on Luna of Equestria, First Princess of the Moon, to ask her a boon.”

Luna’s eyes widened, and her lips parted, but she remained silent.

“With the power granted me by virtue of my burden, I hereby call on Her Highness to…” I swallowed. “...to take a vacation.”

Luna’s face froze, in an expression that I would have treasured an hour ago.

“To take a vacation,” I repeated, “to the township of Ponyville, where I ask of her to spend time with her granddaughter, Twilight Sparkle of Equestria. She shall be relieved of all her royal duties save one: she shall continue to raise and set the moon, as this is a task only she can complete. And, beside this one duty, I shall add a second…” I smiled. “She shall focus upon her own health and well-being, body and soul, to the exclusion of all other burdens.” I took a deep breath. ”This is my pronouncement as Princess of Equestria,” I said. “May it so be.”

Luna swallowed. “I, Luna of Equestria, accept this charge,” she said numbly. She reached up and took off her glasses, then wiped at her eyes with the back of her hoof. “That… that was a Royal Supplication,” she said. “You said it perfectly.”

I shrugged. “I’ve had time to study lately,” I said.

“So it appears,” she said, replacing her glasses. She sighed, then looked down at the floor. “Though, I must add that it is a bit of a shame that you had to waste your first Supplication on a joke at my expense…”

I shook my head. “It wasn’t a joke.”

Luna looked up at me again in frank astonishment, her glasses tilting to one side. I giggled, then reached out and straightened them for her.

“Aunt Luna,” I said, “I may not be the best at… well, anything, but one thing I am good at is ponies. I know what they’re feeling, how to talk to them, and how to make them feel good. And, if I’m right…” I swallowed. “You… you’re not in a good place right now.”

She shrank back and looked away from me. I permitted myself a small grin.

“You want my honest-to-Harmony opinion?” I smiled, then squeezed her a little tighter. “I think you need to have a spa day. And a cake binge. And some time with a bunny or two. A chance to feel the wind under your wings. And a good, hard run. And a lazy weekend lying in the sun and reading cheap paperbacks. And you need to do all that, not because you have to, or because everyone expects you, or because Equestria hangs in the balance, but because you want to, darn it. And because it’ll make you happy.” I smiled again. “And I know just the ponies who can help with that.”

I was seized with the sudden, mad desire to demand she write me progress reports—but then, deep in her eyes, I saw something new: a mist, faint but obscuring, starting to rise up. For a moment, I was confused: had I said the wrong thing? Pushed her too far?

I realized she was already speaking again. I forced those thoughts aside and focused:

“—simply cannot leave,” she pleaded. “You need me here—and I cannot just abandon—”

I tried to smile, but the mist in her eyes was growing thicker.

“Listen, Aunt Luna,” I said, “The Royalty has survived whores, homebodies, traitors, thieves, and madmares.” I cracked a smile. “I think it can survive a teenager who’s still working herself out. At least for six months or so.”

Her gaze was growing distant. Cold. I felt my gut twist; I was losing her.

“Six months?” she repeated. “I hope you are joking with me, Celestia…”

“I’m serious, Aunt Luna,” I said, a faint note of desperation creeping into my voice. “Learn to focus on yourself—" I gulped. "—please—!”

“That… might be helpful,” she conceded.

And the curtain fell. That magical moment of vulnerability, of honesty, had slipped away. The mare in my arms was no longer Luna—she was Loonie once more.

Loonie pried herself out of my grasp, then stood. She adjusted her glasses and dusted herself off, then swallowed.

“You have obligated me,” she said slowly, “and I have accepted that obligation. So, to Ponyville I will go.” She took a deep breath. “You are quite the charmer, Celestia. Honestly, I envy you. And, though you know how to say the right words…” She cleared her throat. “I feel I have made my opinions on your ability to govern quite clear. And your performance tonight has done little to persuade me otherwise.”

I nodded, slowly. I felt numb. What exactly had happened?

“I-I understand,” I stammered. “But I have an advisor now—someone who can help me spot the sharks—”

Luna raised an eyebrow. “Pray tell.”

I swallowed. “Blueblood,” I said.

She blinked, and I saw a little of the old fear flash across her face.

“You will excuse me,” she said carefully, “if I do not find that information reassuring.”

I nodded. “He deserves it.” I hesitated. “We deserve it.”

She pursed her lips. “Perhaps,” she said.

I cringed. In her mouth, that single word was a rebuke.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke. Finally, Luna cleared her throat.

“Well, then,” she said. “I suppose I should begin packing.”

And, with that, she turned and walked from the room.

I watched her go, stunned. Slowly, my haunches sank until I was sitting again. I found myself taking deep, gasping breaths, doing my damndest not to burst into tears then and there.

The door at the end of the hall creaked open a little, and Blueblood slipped inside. I just looked away as he made his own long walk across what was left of the ballroom.

As he approached me, he slowed; then, he stepped close and sat on the floor beside me.

“So,” he said, “didn’t go so well?

I scoffed, but he just sighed.

“Well, really,” he said, “what did you expect?”

I sniffled. “It works for Twilight,” I muttered.

He looked at me questioningly.

“It works for Twilight,” I repeated, avoiding his gaze. “Whenever she has a problem, she talks it out and everything goes back to normal. Says so in all her letters.” I threw my arms up in the air. “All she has to do is have a song and dance, and everything’s hunky-dory again! But with Luna, she—”

I stopped speaking, then bit the inside of my cheek. I wasn’t going to cry. I wasn’t. Not in front of Blueblood. And not over Luna, of all ponies…

I almost heard Blueblood smirk. “That’s your problem, then,” he said. “You just needed to end with a musical number and everything would’ve—”

I snarled and rounded on him, but he scooted away, laughing, and threw up his hooves in a defensive gesture.

“Just kidding, Cece,” he laughed.

I scowled. “Not funny,” I muttered grumpily.

Blueblood just sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said. He scooted closer again, then hesitated. Slowly, carefully, he reached out one arm, and put it around my shoulders. After a split second, I leaned into him.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Cece,” he said gently. “I think you did good. You did and said all the right things…”

I frowned at him. “You were listening?”

He nodded. “Yeah.” He looked down at me. “Is… that a problem?”

I snuggled a little closer. “Maybe,” I said.

He shrugged. “Maybe I won’t do it next time, then.”

I said nothing.

He squeezed me a little. “Either way: I think you did everything you could. But Luna’s a hard case. She’s full of guilt and anger, and she’s let it eat at her for… well…”

“A thousand years?” I muttered darkly.

“Maybe not that long,” he said. “Maybe so. Either way, she’s… not in a good place. And you can’t really expect her to change overnight. Can you?”

I was quiet for a bit. “No,” I admitted, finally.

“But you did get her to open up, at least,” he said. “For the first time since she came back, I think. And she was talking about some pretty sensitive stuff. You should be proud you got her that far,” he added. He lit his horn, then tugged the folded-up handkerchief from the breast pocket of his jacket and passed it to me. I took it, then blew my nose with an undignified honk. 

“I think you did pretty damn good tonight, all things considered,” he said. “Yeah, the ballroom could use a new coat of paint…”

I chuckled darkly. Blueblood shook his head and smiled.

“But I think your friends had fun,” he continued. “Or, at least, you showed them you cared enough to put in a good effort. And you did the best you could with Aunt Luna. Now, all she needs is time, I think.”

He squeezed me tighter, then bent down and kissed me on the forehead.

“Proud of you, Sis,” he said.

I looked up at him and smiled.

“Dammit, Blueblood,” I said, “you’re gonna make me cry…”

He laughed. “Take your time, Sissy,” he said. “After all, that’s what big brothers are for, right?”

I sniffled once or twice, then lit my horn, wadded up his snotty handkerchief, and tucked it back into his pocket.

“Hey,” he cried, dismayed.

I just giggled. “Not like it’s gonna ruin your jacket any more, Bloob,” I said.

He rolled his eyes and gave a dramatic sigh. I leaned a little closer to him.

“So,” I said, “what happens next?”

He rolled his eyes. “Next,” he said, “we get you back to the hospital, young lady. You made a promise.” 

“I know,” I said. “But…” I swallowed. “Could we stop for a doughnut on the way?"

He cocked his head. “A doughnut?” he repeated.

I nodded. “Doughnut Joe’s. Best pastry in Canterlot. He’s open real late, and…” I swallowed. “Well, Twi and I used to go there all the time with our other friends. After something big, like tests or a game. So,” I said, grinning, “wanna commemorate this disaster with a bear claw or something?”

“Actually,” he said haughtily, “I was feeling that hole-in-the-wall curry stand downtown.”

“Curry? Really?”

“Really. Nothing like a late-night eggplant vindaloo." He grinned. "Shiny and I used to see who could eat the most without breaking a sweat.”

I made a face.

“Don’t give me that look,” he said. “It’s good.”

I giggled. “You’re weird, Bloob.”

“Maybe,” he replied, then reached in and hugged me, careful to avoid my bandages. “But, weird or not, I’m for sure your brother,” he finished. “And, from now on, I’m gonna do my best to act like it.”

I wrapped my good arm around him.

“Thanks, Blue,” I said. I hesitated, then grinned. “Thanks, big brudder.”

He groaned a little, and I just laughed.