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// Capite uno tantum 
// Story: Luna and the Moon 
// by UnicodingUnicorn 
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	Some say that the Night is the domain of the Lovers, that under the softer shades of the dark sky Love takes on its true form. In the gentler hues of the twilight, gentle caresses are given, furtive glances exchanged, and the coolness and beauty of the otherworldly scenery is taken in in the presence of the other one who matters most in this world. For it is away from the harsh glare of the Daylight Sun and the looks of others that Love can truly blossom.

That is what some say. What I say? I cannot be certain for sure. For a thousand years I have watched night fall upon this beautiful land and for eons more I shall cast the shadow of night time upon this earth. For decades I have been blinded by hate and jealousy and for centuries more my memories have been consumed by burning anger. But for these few short years I have been my true self, I can certainly say that there is some grain of truth in that statement.

To be immortal is something that is misunderstood. Some think that to be immortal is to be powerful, that is a blessing to be seeked. Nay, to be immortal is a curse. I understand not my sister, how she is able to love and be loved by these mortals, who would be gone in but a blink of an eye and to be but dust and a lingering memory in the batting of an eyelid. Maybe that is why she once wielded Kindness, or maybe it is not. 
That is why we are misunderstood. Yes, we can love, but this Love is like a mother looking upon her children, or a mentor upon his charge. To experience Love as a passion burning deep within our hearts, to feel as though another living being means the world and more is torture for us. Though some may say that Love conquers all, the accumulated pain and regret of memories past and the looming future of eternal life without your Other beats the happiness of moments come. For just as we are the sole Immortals upon this planet we too will crumble under such pain.

But for my Subjects I will endure. And for Him. Guards open the two massive double doors to a small balcony looking out to the west horizon. For the moment has arrived, the soft and fading light has crossed the west horizon and has bidden us goodnight. The critical juncture has come, I close my eyes, let the worries and burdens of the present slip away, feel the pulse of things around. And in the rapidly fading light, a horn gently glows blue.

The first touch is a teasing one, light and fleeting, to announce my presence, like the light press of a doorbell that is the start of so many dates. Tendrils of blue quickly withdraw and swirl around me, eagerly awaiting response. On some days he is willing to listen, on others stubborn. Yet, though the adage Love conquers all may not be entirely through, there is a grain of truth in every statement, and the desire to unite with the one whom he adores most holds domain over any last trace of reluctance. In the ether, a tendril of gray magic reaches out.

At first I keep it light and teasing, retreating from his every advance, then shooting out a tendril and poking him in the side. This is the game we play, the game of reunity and relief, the joy of the ending of our daily separation. Throughout the ether tendrils of magic shoot, twirl and intertwine. Though some may say that an eternity will cause the most stimulating of activities to dull to ceaseless boredom, but this a game that would never grow old again, for we have only just begun and the joy of contact again outweighs all else. Still, the needs of a kingdom outweigh the pleasures of one, and we reluctantly separate and take our positions as Watchers of the Night.
The night is deep, and court is dull. Night may be the time for the Lovers, yet ponies still need sleep. Night Court is but a symbol of the equal dominion of night and day, serving no functionality in its place deep in the night. I gaze out at the empty hallways and quiet chambers. This figurehead can wait, there are more important things to attend to.
A brief jarring shift of phase, and I feel the cool emptiness around me. Contact through the ether is one thing, physical contact, to feel the firmness of his body, is another. Beneath my hooves I can feel a gentle thrumming, like the pulse of a living being. I am Immortal, devoid of the needs of mortals. A vacuum holds none to my true power. I lay down on the cold yet warm silver surface, relishing in the close contact and gaze upon the world below. My subjects may be right in many things, but wrong in so many others. They think that it was because I spent the darkest moments of my life here that it means I avoid it like some dark curse? No, in those dark moments, it was the Moon who held me in his sweet embrace, who was loyal when even my dearest Sister abandoned me. He was the one who held on even as I cried and raged, the one who soothed and shushed, the one who remained faithful to the very end, and the one who will and will always remain by my side as I look down upon this world and all that is within it.
In the silence we sit together, each basking in the presence of the other, the mere aura enough to soothe the hurts and pains of the day. Some may wonder how I am satisfied, but we are not like those young, passionate lovers my Night watches over. They are like a match just struck, bright and flaring but at the very end short lived, we are like a piece of charcoal, slow and warm but long lasting. Passion is but a flare to sustain the relationship of mortals. Some may wonder how I can feel as such for what seems to be an inanimate object, but all things contain magic, and it is by this magic that they are alive. 
I could ask the same question of you, "Who are you? Unknown One, who questions me beyond the Border? And what more cause should I have to answer you?"
All you should know is that it takes one who is Eternal to truly love an Immortal and an Immortal to truly love one who is Eternal, and so through the winds of time, our ship will sail on. The Moon and I. Now, leave us in peace.