The Stars That Circle the Moon

by Swaglestia

Masks

Given her age, Celestia was well acquainted with the fact that life wasn't fair.

She also knew the price of immortality was that this unfairness just so happened to last a little while longer than everyone else's. The path she preferred may not be the right one for another and this was perfectly okay. Existence was a subjective experience, each pair of eyes able to behold a different sight despite gazing at the same work of art, and she had sat through enough rants and expressions to know that her citizen's needs were severe in their distinctions and variations.

What is a miracle to one may be a curse to another. The princess was no exception to the rule.

It was also a matter of selflessness, Celestia's own double-ended blade. Her unabashed, raw willingness to give just for the sake of giving was both what she stood tall for and what brought her down to her knees. Sacrifice was what her universe was manifested from and her own happiness was always forfeit.

So, when Luna had drove a stake right through the core of her heart, all this had become very, very clear. Simple words had been her weapon of choice, reaching Celestia's ears and being brandished in her brain.

'Your student,' Luna had said, uncharacteristically timid for a pony usually so set in their ways. Her eyes were everywhere except on Celestia. 'She is quite the mage, is she not?'

Celestia remained muzzle-deep in her stack of paperwork but ceased reading whatever negotiation or request had been in front of her at that moment, keeping her ears from perking up in curiosity now having moved up on her list of priorities. 'Twilight Sparkle is particularly... gifted, so to speak. Her potential is something even I cannot foresee. '

There was a pause, Celestia almost able to actually hear the gears in her sister's head churning and clashing. 'Has she been your student for long?'

'Oh, yes. For quite some time already.' Absent-minded, she scrawled her signature on a random document, all too obvious that her penmanship was a bit distracted. 'Since she was about eight or nine years old. Even then, she excelled in magical ability.'

'Ahh, I see.' Luna appeared to be gazing at nothing, eyes looking introspectively inward instead of out. Another pause. Her hesitation may as well have been tangible, any ounce of the headstrong Princess of the Moon absent.

Celestia wasn't even moving her eyes to pretend to read this time, her vision cemented downward as anticipation rose.

Luna gave a delicate, polite cough, and continued. 'And are you rather... fond of her?'

'Where is this conversation going, Luna?' Celestia looked up at this point, her quill accidentally freed from its magical grip and plunging to the desk, small droplets of ink spreading out and staining the wood.

'I apologize if I seem to be a bother.' Luna had staggered back a step, an eyebrow cocked at her sister. 'I merely mean to receive your blessing.'

It was Celestia's turn to look baffled. 'My blessing?'

'Yes,' She could tell Luna was battling with the grin that pulled at her lips -- not her coy smirk, but a genuine smile, which in itself was a cause to be celebrated. 'I would not pursue a courtship with Twilight Sparkle without the blessing of the one who is both my sister and her mentor.'

And with a mere sentence, over a thousand years of composure and stoicism came rushing to her aid.

'Of course you have my blessing, sister.'

It had been a lie, of course, but worse ones had been spoken. Even if by some outlandish alignment of fate she had chosen the truth, she wouldn't have been able to say no to Luna. Even if the words she was unable to whisper to her own shadow spewed out, there would have been no resistance towards the younger princess' request on her part. Who was she to deny her own flesh and blood the prospect of happiness?

Even if that happiness should have belonged to her.

But life was not fair.

In recent days it had been hitting her especially hard, the weight of being torn between selfishness and -- there was that word -- sacrifice colliding with her as soon as she rose with her sun. There was an ironic, funny little thought she sometimes had: that her attuned celestial body stood firm and strong in place and had the universe revolve around it while Celestia was the paragon of just the opposite, her life revolving around everyone else.

She enjoyed it, though. Helping brought her joy.

Not the kind of joy she yearned for while alone at night, her bed like a grave, but it was joy nonetheless.

Day Court now waiting for her, Celestia strode down the halls, poise as regal and refined as ever. Besides sacrifice, self-control was her greatest ally, her mask having a millennia worth of crafting and polishing to make it shine brighter than her regalia. The facade, resplendent and immaculate, was the only perfect thing about her and even then, it was the mere illusion of perfection. But that made all the difference in the world.

Just like a handful of others in the castle, the particular hall she was in was adorned in the most impressive stained glass works of craftsmanship and feats of creativity. The walls spoke through these monochromatic windows, acting as bards and murmuring tales and histories to anyone lucky or cultured enough to understand, although they were much more akin to memories for Celestia. They served as tiny reminders, some warm and triumphant that elicited a private smile from her every time she passed, and others that were not so pleas-

The one depicting Nightmare Moon caught her eye.

At one point in time, even before powerful little Twilight Sparkle had entered her world, she would have admitted that experiencing jealousy had always felt strange and out of place for her. She was not prone to it like her sister was and when conflicts between them began to escalate, she had so carelessly dismissed it as a psychological issue of birth order and nothing more.

Guilt ended up strangling her with the truth. She had been a fool back then.

As she swept her gaze away from the blue-tinted battle scene, she assumed she was just getting a taste of what she dished out. In a morbid sort of fashion, she felt as if she finally understood Luna now, her sister's psyche no longer pieces of an enigmatic puzzle that just revealed an even more frustratingly elusive picture.

Luna wanted to be loved. And that was all.

Celestia heard her hoofsteps increase in tempo without her realizing, a sudden urgency to leave dragging her forward to the shortcut through the archives. Distraction was what she craved, her own thoughts becoming poison. Yes, a day of aiding her beloved subjects was exactly what she needed. Things were... safer this way.

Had anyone else been around, suspicion would have been expressed in a shallow 'princess, are you okay?' for how she bolted in, using her magic to keep the door from bashing right through the wall in her haste. The archives contained a respectful silence that lingered thick in the air, as if speaking too loud would disturb the scrolls and upset the books. It was a deafness Celestia was familiar with and it followed her each time she stepped her hoof in a room, every mouth clamping shut in fear of disrespect as opposed to just speaking to her respectfully. There was a difference.

She leaned her frame against a wall in hopes of reclaiming her breath, but it was caught in her throat as soon as she inhaled.

Through the iron bars of the Starswirl the Bearded Wing were two unmistakably familiar dark-coated ponies, their limbs an entangled bulk of blue and purple and their bodies sprawled out on the couch. Scrolls piled around them as if they were snack wrappers from a sleepover and not ancient tomes of knowledge, a chunky leather bound book nestled between them like a newborn.

I suppose it was bound to happen, Celestia thought, swallowing hard despite herself. The redeemer and the redeemed. She continued to Day Court, checking her mask for any cracks along the way.

That could be her, entwined without a worry and mind hazy with adoration.

That should be her.

But life was not fair.