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// Remember When You Ran Away? 
// Story: Remember When 
// by Cheesey Microwave 
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To my dearest, most beloved little sister,
Remember when you tried to run away?
Fed up with early bedtimes and constant pastry theft(I'm still sorry!), you packed your bags and bid me a loving farewell that consisted of spitting on my cake and telling me that you'll "sniff me later". I believe the term you were looking for was "smell ya later", but I digress.
I watched you trot out the door, your tail flipping from side to side as it always did when you were deep in thought. Whether you were pondering a new location to settle down in or how you would come across your next cookie since you'd left your bit bag under your pillow, obviously it was quite important. Did you even notice that you left it there? Honestly, my dear, you must've been in such an awful rush to get away from the tyranny that is Ce-Ce! How could you have possibly survived without the three hundred and sixty-two bits you had carefully saved up for over the years?
I'm getting off track, Luna. You must forgive me. Anyhow, I ended up stalking you. Goodness, I wish I were writing in pencil instead of this indelible ink. Stalking seems like such a harsh word. I followed you around in secret. That sounds so much better. Let's pretend I said that in the first place.
During my following, I noticed that you would often stop to check the contents of your bag. You took out a small wooden doll at one point. The one Mother had carved for us just before The Great Ending War. It still makes me cry to think about it, and as I'm sure you can see the water marring the ink, you will no doubt be disappointed in me. You were always so attached to them, but you composed yourself quickly. Your bravery was nothing short of miraculous, I must say.
Curse my mind! Curse my pen! Curse this ink! Luna, you must remind me to keep on track! Being sealed inside the moon is no excuse for ignoring your royal duties!
I will take a final detour and add that, even if the darkness still corrupts your heart, I certainly hope it hasn't clouded your sense of humor.
Now, I watched you take out the doll that looked like me, then the doll that looked like you. That was mine, you little thief! I'm one to talk, though, aren't I? Well, you began to play with them, going along our usual storyline: we were princesses who had made a truce with Discord. You admired that draconequus so much! You thought everything he did was hilarious! Oh, my, but that's another story, one I'll happily recant once you reply.
Gah! So many rabbit trails! From now on, if anything I write starts to get off track, I shall strike it out!
Now, the wooden Celestia told her sister to go to bed. The wooden Luna got angry and hit her sister. Celestia was so shocked and scared, she inadvertently hurt her sister with her magic. Both girls were so angry and scared of each other, they hid behind two separate bushes.
And then you, the real you, started to cry.
Oh, you've always had to most pitiful cry. Most newborns lose their cute, helpless tone around one month, but not you. You've been precious every day of your life. You know, father used to say
I was so heartbroken, but I did have an idea. Using my "yellow shiny", I brought the sisters together and had them make up. You watched in fascination, then pounced on me. Apparently I had been crying a little and it was at that point you heard me. Either way, I gave myself away, and I'm still glad I did. Who knows what would've happened if you didn't find me and I was too stupid to reveal myself? Perhaps my heart would literally break from the weight of your pitiful tears. Oh, I'm quite glad I'll never know.
As you pounced, your little hobo sack broke, revealing the contents of the bag. Several maps decorated with the garish colored wax you were so infatuated by at the time caught my eye, but it also led me to a piece of paper. It was just a tiny scrap, but in your precious hoofwriting was an apology. Begging for my forgiveness, hoping that you'll someday see me again, and if I do read it, then that means you're advanced enough to teleport small objects. There were so many more little details. I have it memorized by heart, but when you later told me just how long the plot had been brewing, I'm sure you do, too. Scratch that. Last time I tried to remind you, your memory failed on the second paragraph.
I believe it said, "Celestia, I should have stayed and apologized but I just didn't want to. I'm really sorry if I scared you, and if you didn't care then I'm sorry to bother you. I hope you have all the cake you could ever want and I hope you always tend to their grave. Last time I checked it had this really bad moss growing all over it and I couldn't remove it with my magic. Try to fix that.
"Anyways, if you're reading this, then I'm finally smart enough to teleport small objects like this paper and I've probably earned my cutie mark. I bet it's just as cool as yours, and you can't brag about your sunny butt anymore.
"I hope I see you again someday. However, if I see you again because there's another war and we're the rulers from opposing sides, I don't think I'd like that one little bit. I hope you wouldn't like it, either.
"By the way, I stole all the teethbrushes. Now you have to have yellow teeth!"
My, weren't you just a little devil? You always stole my toothbrush when you were angry. Wherever did you get the notion that I feared having yellow
Once we got back home, you put the 'teethbrushes' back where they belonged, gave me my doll and hugged my foreleg. Even back then I was quite a bit taller than you, and you hardly reached the top of my foreleg.
Luna, Nightmare Moon, whoever you are, even if your deepest desire is to claim my throne as well as my life, I beg of you to write back with another memory. Even if your heart is fully blackened by the forces that possess you, I still want to bring you home as soon as possible. Comply, I beg of you!
Your loving sister,
Ce-Ce


Celestia looked over the letter a few times, checking for spelling errors or anything else that needed correction. Satisfied, she rolled it up and put her royal seal on it.
The second before she sent it, however, she changed her mind and pried the red wax off. She rummaged through her drawers, tossing empty and broken inkwells, torn ribbons, moth-eaten fancy paper, hideously bright inks from Lady Myrtlethoth of Lacerticanina and bits of who-knows-what aside. 
At the very back, where her hoof could just barely reach, was a very old mold she and Luna had made when they were little. It depicted a shining star above two ponies, an earth pony colt with crutches and a majestic female alicorn, who were holding hooves. It lacked many crucial details and wasn't very high quality, but Luna had loved it so much that she insisted it be kept forever.
She put the old seal on it, concentrated as hard as possible, and sent it to the moon. 
"Will it even get there?" she wondered aloud.
"Of course, m'lady!" Rosemary's crooked grin was the first thing Celestia saw when she turned around. "I assume you're sending it to some official or whatnot? Some official whatnot?"
"How long have you been there?"
"Long enough to see you throw bottles of ink everywhere and create a mess for the royal housekeepers. Look at you! You're covered in ink! I'll go get the washcloth!" The old mare turned around, shaking her head. "I swear, missy, you're getting more and more lackadaisy about your appearance!"
"Mom?" A sturdy pegasus stallion peeked his head into the room. "Mom, you're supposed to be in bed."
"Phooey! That zebra's concoction didn't do nothin' to me!" Rosemary slapped the stallion's face with her tail. it wasn't hard, but it obviously agitated him.
"Mommy, Gladys has a cold," he said calmly.
"I'd better make her some soup! Now, Ce-Ce, be sure to take a bath soon!" She waved goodbye as her son dragged her off, grumbling about "her stupid arthritis". 
Celestia watched her leave, then looked over at the mirror on the wall. Ink was splattered across her chest. Her forelegs looked like they'd been dipped in it and shaken off as quickly as possibly. Her face was almost completely grey with a few pure black spots.
I suppose I do need a bath, don't I?



Bubbles were in Celestia's nostrils, she was dripping water on the carpets and floor, her eyes stung slightly from bits of soap that had gotten in them, and she couldn't have been happier.
She had received a letter.
Upon her bed was a piece of pure white paper sealed with a clear wax circle. She hastily opened it, accidentally tearing the paper in the process, and began to read.
Dear Celestia,
I have been unable as of late to find anypony who would host the Gala this year, since it's normally quite a pain to clean it up afterwards. Would you mind holding it at your castle? I'll take care of decorating and everything. I'll pay for the food, waiters, etc., etc. in case you were wondering.
By the way, if you choose to attend(which I don't doubt you will, since it's at your castle), could you please wear clothing for the sake of formality?
Sincerely, Prince Storm
Disappointed, she set the letter down. She quickly wrote a letter back telling him she'd gladly have it at the castle, but she wouldn't have a dress ready for about a month or so.  She almost sent it with the beloved and cruddy seal, but she swapped it for her royal seal at the last moment. 
She thought about it for a moment. The likelihood of Luna writing back only an hour later is rather small. I suppose I shouldn't get so worked up over it. Always expect the worst, Celestia.
With a sigh, she turned around and trotted back to her private bathroom. The bubbles were long gone and the water was cold.
The grey princess looked at herself in the mirror. Her royal bath had only succeeded in dying her fur a delicate grey color, similar to clouds before a light shower. She would have to throw out the old water and reheat some more. 
Distressed, she pulled a bucket out from under the sink and began pouring bucketfuls of dirty water out the window. Once the tub was almost completely empty, she trotted downstairs with a slight scowl on her face.
May Flower, a new servant who had the same cheerful demeanor as a dead rosebush, seemed even grumpier than usual. When she saw the princess, her nose just barely touched the ground before shooting upwards and being held high in the air. "What do you require, ma'am?"
"I require you to fetch water and sufficient wood for burning. You are to use the wood to heat the water, which in turn you shall deliver to the royal washtub. You may not delegate this task to any other servant."
May Flower sighed and trotted off, mumbling under her breath. Many of the poor foals near the castle told Celestia that the bright magenta mare forced them to do dreadful tasks in her stead, and Celestia was absolutely tired of it. She wasn't hired to be a supervisor, she was hired to serve her princess' every whim.
An hour later, her bath was filled to just the right amount: when the tall princess stepped in and let herself sink into the water, none of it spilled over the sides and there was just enough leeway in case she decided to splash around. May had also put in bubbles for her without being asked. 
"Do you need anything else?"
"Yes. Why are you so unhappy?"
The mare scowled. "For the love of- never mind. I'm just pessimistic, that's all. I'm sorry if it bothers you, especially with... you know. I'll try to be happier until the overall atmosphere brightens."
"What do you mean?"
"You haven't noticed? Half of Equestria seems to feel the same way you do, but it's not because they lost Luna. They feel like they lost you. You never come out of the castle, you don't make visits to schools that you had carefully scheduled weeks before, you're continually forgetting to raise the moon at the right time which messes with the children's bedtimes... need I say more?"
The princess paused. "I suppose not. Keep in mind, however, that I'm considering some new ponies to hire, and I'm already overstaffed."
May Flower bowed and briskly trotted away, her blue eyes narrowed.
Celestia sighed and picked up the cake of soap. It smelled strange. She turned it over. Some black mold was growing at the corner. Was it any wonder the original bath had failed to clean her even after an hour?
She tossed it into the nearby wastebasket and bellowed for a new one. She wasn't in the mood for being polite.
The servant who brought it was, once again, May Flower. "Your soap and a letter." She held out a bright green cake, along with a strange black scroll held closed by a white ribbon. She set them down atop the sink and trotted away without another word.
Celestia used her magic to pull the objects over. She put the soap on the rim of the tub and opened the black scroll.
Luna's hoofwriting, her adorably messy yet elegant hoofwriting, stared back at her.