• Published 2nd Sep 2014
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he. she. we. - Shinzakura



A man, empty. A mare, damaged. A life, lived. A life - loved.

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fourteen. she. film.

Once again, I find myself on a plane, only this time taking me to the supposed land of my birth. The thing is, technically it’s Selene De Lune’s home country, not mine; and again, technically, she doesn’t really exist – it’s just an identity that I’ve been using since my time here. While it’s true that it’s my only identity outside of my pony one and now my de facto everyday life, I have to deal with the basic truth that who I am is a sham, and part of that sham is heading across the border.

Seated next to me is my new bodyguard and ostensible Girl Friday, Arturia Moynihan, or if I want to be technical, Celestia Arturia Moynihan. We got off on the wrong foot at first, but we made up for it quick, and it’s my hope that while we’re on this trip, she and I could get to know each other a little better. It’d be good to have another friend I can rely on, and if nothing else, I suspect she’ll be a good shooting buddy for Pumpkin.

Currently, Arturia’s got her eyes closed and is gently dozing. I envy her that. I hate being trapped in this tin can for hours, but there’s not much I can do. Sure, I could fly on my own here, but I’d still have to bring Arturia, our luggage and other things and come up with both our faked flights, passports, stamps and all that. That’s too many variables for something that’s otherwise a minor nuisance – and this is on the least protected border in the world. I’d hate to see if we were going to, say, Cuba.

“You’re restless,” I hear her say, and she opens a single eye. “I take it you’re not one for flying – or at least with someone else at the wheel?”

I nod. “You could say that.”

She grins. “Yeah, I know the feels. I hate not having control of my life, or being able to allow other variables in. I guess you could say that I have a hard time trusting others, even if I’m completely loyal. It’s just….” She shrugged, and as she did, she dropped what looked to be a manga book. Neither North nor I are big into anime and the like, but Katie and Pumpkin are, so I’m familiar enough with them.

What I’m not familiar with is seeing Arturia on the cover…dressed in armor. “Did some modeling in Japan?” I ask her as I pass her the copy.

She laughs. “I wish; I’d be rich by now. Welcome to the Fate series, the bane of my life – featuring women fighters from various time periods, who all look exactly like me by coincidence, and the most famous of them—” she says, rapping her fingers against the cover, “—is Arturia, better known as King Arthur, King of the Britons.”

That is by far and away the weirdest shit I’ve heard…well, the weirdest thing in about a week, at least. “Seriously?”

Arturia shrugs. “Yeah. Granted, I really never liked my name to begin with, but this just made it magnitudes worse. Especially five years ago, when Taylor insisted on us going to San Diego Comic-Con – and guess who I had to go as? Saved a load on paying for a costume, though.”

“Sorry,” I blurt. I’d had a chance to read our copy of Peter Beagle’s The Last Unicorn, and if that’s what they think of my kind, well, I’d probably be as bothered as Arturia is. Plus, there’s something about Amalthea that reminds me of Celestia, and that is decidedly not a good thing at all.

A few hours and one drive up from Toronto, we arrive in Guleph. We’re both tired from the flight – apparently a huge dislike of flying tends to take all the energy out of a person, go figure – so with a quick magical recharge of energy for me and a huge, friendly hug for Arturia, we drop off our bags at the hotel and drive off towards our destination.

We end up out in the boonies – and by out, I mean mine and North’s vacation home in Big Bear looks like downtown LA in comparison. “You can almost hear the banjos,” Arturia says to me as she’s looking at something on a tablet.

“I don’t get that,” I tell her. Seriously, I hear that comment more often than not, and I just don’t understand it. What, are banjos considered an instrument only rural folks have?

“Seriously?” she asks me and I nod. “Well, it’d probably take too long to explain, but it’s a joke that goes back to some movie from the 70s,” she explains. “Haven’t seen it myself, but the reference is so old that it’s taken on a life of its own.”

“Well, I’ll have to keep that in mind,” I tell her as we reach our destination, a rather out-of-the-way farm; the front of the homestead is filled with cars, trucks and trailers galore. As we slow towards the gate, a security guard approaches our car.

“Remember the plan,” Arturia tells me and I try not to roll my eyes. I know this is her job, but seriously, I do know what I’m doing. Well, on occasion, anyway.

I roll down the window and as the guard arrives, I flash the credentials that Molloy got us. I have no idea how he does it, and I probably don’t want to know, but I’m told they’ll hold up against reasonable scrutiny. “Hi, we’re from the US CDC. We were asked by the NML to come in and consult on a case. Can we see whoever’s in charge here?”

The guard cheerfully points us to the director’s trailer and a place to park next to it. “Well, that was easy,” I tell Arturia as we head towards the trailer.

“Yes, and that bothers me,” she says as we come to a stop. We get out of the car and knock on the trailer door before going in, where two people, a man who looks to be in his early thirties, and a woman in her early twenties, are arguing. Despite the sandy brown hair and green eyes, the facial and body features clearly indicated this was Taylor Andrews, Arturia’s younger sister.

“Look, Larry, I’m just not sure that it’s feasible right now to keep filming with one of our actors down,” Taylor tells the man.

The guy, whose name I presume is Larry, says to her, “Larissa is on the phone with the studio right now, trying to convince them, but I know those guys, and they won’t bite. Not happy about it either, but until she can get them to back off, we gotta do what we gotta do, okay?”

“What’s going on?” Arturia interjects, and it’s at this point that both combatants turn to finally realize we’ve walked in.

Larry doesn’t seem so happy to see either of us. “Okay, who are you and what are you doing in here?” he asks.

Taylor, however, gets bubblier than Pumpkin on champagne. “Hey, you came!” she says, jumping forward to hug Arturia. I’m not a thymophage like either of them, but even I can feel how much these two love each other. Hell, the smile on Arturia’s face is nearly giddy and half the time she acts like she’s a Klingon.

Why yes, I have seen Star Trek – though for some reason North keeps insisting that I skip Enterprise. No idea why.

“Taylor, who are these two?” Larry asks. Hey, it’s a fair question. I’m guessing he’s not going to want an answer of “Oh hi, I’m an alicorn lunar goddess from another reality and this is my half-human, half-arthropod emotion-eating bodyguard. We’re here on the request of another half-human half-arthropod because someone’s eating people’s emotions and it’s not her.” Call me crazy, but even surrounded by Hollywood types they’re not going to believe that answer, no matter how true it is.

Fortunately for us, Arturia’s kid sister is an actress. “Larry, this is my sister, Arturia. I asked her to give us a hand looking into the issue. She’s a private eye, so she’s trained to do that stuff. I guess this is her partner,” she adds, gesturing to me, “though I’ve never met her before.”

“Actually, Taylor,” Arturia tells her sister, “she’s my boss.”

That’s my cue. “Yes, I’m Selene De Lune,” I say as I offer my hand.

Introducing herself to me, Taylor says, “Well, I’m Arturia’s little sister Taylor Moynihan, though I go by my mom’s maiden name for my stage name. And this is Larry Vandervort, the director for this little shindig.”

That name sounds familiar, but for some reason I can’t place it at first. Pumpkin’s the cinephile of our group, and while I try to keep up, I’m more of a book kind of mare.

A second later, the reminder comes in: a woman about our age, dressed in a polo and slacks, with horn rim glasses and a short haircut despite looking attractive without either, walks in carrying a clipboard. “Hey, Larry, I was right – the suits are not going to give us any more time. We either finish filming by the 18th, or they’re going to pull the plug on our funding.” She sighs. “Fortunately, I’ve got some extra buttons I can push in case of emergency, but I don’t want to do that just yet.”

It suddenly dawns on me who these two are: The Vandervort siblings – the hottest director/screenwriter/producer combo in Hollywood at the moment. If I recall correctly, they haven’t even hit their thirties yet and they’ve already got a string of hits that make the Wachowskis, the Farrelly brothers, and the Russo brothers look like amateurs. Larissa and Larry Vandervort pretty much command the studios’ attention, so to hear that things aren’t going well for them right now just underscores whatever’s going on here.

“Who are these two?” Larissa asks.

“Friends of Taylor’s,” Larry tells her. “They’re investigators looking into Dave’s death and Edwin’s poisoning.”

“Well, we need someone to do it, so…glad you guys are here.” She offers her hand, and as I shake it, I get a strange feeling – and believe me, I know strange feelings. Obviously she’s not a changeling, otherwise Taylor would have already found out.

Still, there’s something there, and it makes me curious. Oh well, it’s something I’ll have to look into later.

“Well, Larry and I need to have another conference with the suits,” Larissa tells Taylor, “so would you mind showing them around? Probably best to talk to Michelle first, since she was with Edwin when it happened.”

“Sure, will do,” Taylor says, ushering us out. As soon as she does, she hugs her sister again. “Arturia, where have you been? I thought you were coming to see Mom on her birthday….”

To my surprise, my friend feels guilty. “Look, I’m still adjusting to what she told us, okay? I mean, yeah, I always wondered why I had the weird names and you got normal ones, and why Grandma and Grandpa practically hate Dad, but—”

“But nothing,” I hear Taylor say. “Mom loves you. She raised you practically since Day One, so it shouldn’t matter if she’s technically your aunt. Does it matter to you that I’m your sister as well as your cousin?”

“Not really,” Arturia murmurs, and to be honest, I’m seeing a new side of her. I have to honestly wonder if one of my big problems is that my circle of friends is composed of nothing but damaged people; my boyfriend certainly was until I came into his life. Then again, we’re not all perfect god-queen alicorns – not even me, admittedly – with a crown and a palace and a too-perfect daughter to clean up your messes.

I wonder if that bitch has somepony to wipe her ass for her, too.

I tune back into the conversation as Taylor continues to admonish her sister. “Look, I’m sure Aunt Galadriel was nice; Dad did fall in love with her after all – you were born because of that. But when push comes to shove, you’re Mom’s kid. You’re the daughter of Gabrielle, not Galadriel. And looking back at it, I’m sure Grandma and Grandpa probably regret having kids during their hippie Lord-of-the-Rings phase, otherwise Aunt Galadriel probably would have had a normal name.”

We’re getting afield here and though I like studying human interactions as much as the next person, Arturia is my friend and I should stick up for her. “Arturia, look, I know this is not going to make you feel better or anything, but during the end of the Discordian era, lots of ponies’ lives were lost, and ponies did what they had to do to survive, so it wasn’t all that uncommon for blended families like that to happen. I actually remember this one pegasus mare that had lost her daughters and had to raise her baby granddaughters; she adopted them and raised them as her own, then married a stallion and had two more with him. The only reason I knew was because she was part of the palace staff.”

Now that I think of it, I miss Soap Bubbles. She was my…well, Luna’s maid, and had been as close a friend as her position allowed her. Maybe if circumstances had been different, she could have turned Luna away from her madness. But then I wouldn’t have been created and…. I honestly have to wonder if this is how children of rape feel about their own existences. Sure, I’m alive for vastly different reasons, but the feeling of whether your life really was wanted or not...that can be a painful thought. Either way, I don’t think I should mention the rest of the story; last thing I need is Arturia blowing a fuse.

“I wasn’t aware of that, Princess,” Arturia snaps at me but gives me an immediate look of apology. I guess we’ll have to have a heart-to-heart once we get back to the hotel. She’s clearly going through something, and as a friend, I want to help her. I don’t even care about the employer-employee part. I just want her to smile and enjoy life.

And now I sound like Celestia. For a change, maybe it’s not a bad thing.

However, we snap back to reality as Taylor asks, “Princess?” Before I can say anything, Arturia excuses herself and her sister and drags her a decent amount away from me, towards a part of the field over by a small copse of trees. I can figure what’s happening and sure enough a second later after Arturia’s whispered something in her sister’s ear – and Taylor screams “WHAT?” loud enough that I’m guessing North can hear it back home – they decide to walk back my way. Arturia’s got a smug older sister look on her face (hated it when it was on Celestia, not liking it now, either) and Taylor looks as though her world has been put through a high-speed dryer.

She looks at me with a mixture of fear and guilt. “Y-your highness,” she begins in a shaky voice.

I give Arturia a momentary glare for scaring the hell out of her sister and put on my kindest face. “Yes, I am who you think I am,” I tell her. Well, I am, sorta…. “And what happened long ago is not your fault or even the fault of all the generations here on Earth. I am not here to hunt changelingkind, and in fact, I count the new queen here as one of my best friends. So please, Taylor, relax. And here on Earth, I’m Moon, not Luna, okay?”

“But I thought you were just a myth!” she blurts.

“That’s okay, I thought humans were as well, so we’re even, right?” I tell her with a wink and she gets my point. “Friends?” I ask, offering her my hand.

“Sure, though this is probably going to take me a while to get used to,” she admits while shaking my hand.

I can see the mirth-filled look on Arturia’s face. “You’re an actress, sis – fake it. In the meanwhile, your boss said we should go talk to someone named Michelle?”

“Yeah. Michelle Williamson – she was the one filming with Edwin Caldwell when he started vomiting and started turning gray.”

“Lotothosis,” I voice and Taylor nods.

“Edwin’s in the hospital now and I was going to go see him, but as a throwback, I figured that might only make me more suspicious. Part of me considered ascending in order to search for the culprit, but I didn’t know if that was safe.”

“If you do, let me know. I told Molloy that Katie’s under my protection because she’s a queen, and if you decide to ascend, I don’t mind extending that to you as well.”

Taylor blushed. “Thanks. I’ll think about it, though I’ll need someone to help me with magic training.”

“Doing that for Katie; I can do that for you as well.”

“Thanks. Anyway, Michelle’s trailer is over this way.”

“And then I took off my top because it was supposed to be a sex scene, y’know,” Michelle says, recalling that moment. “I remember freezing my butt off, because this is supposed to be in a tent in the middle of the night in the woods, and even though the portable soundstage probably had enough heat to keep me warm, they had to pump in cold air so our breaths could crystalize and I had to lean forward just so the camera could see my half-frozen nip—”

“A little too much detail, Ms. Williamson,” I tell her and Arturia agrees. Granted, I’m not a prude, obviously, but Michelle looks very uncomfortable talking about it. Maybe it’s her background; Taylor tells me that Michelle comes from being the only African-American actress on a Nickelodeon show, where she played the girl next door. She was in need of an expansion to her resume to avoid typecasting, so she’s playing this role in the film, a girl that sleeps around, as well as supposed victim #3 of the demon. Turns out that she’s also playing a double role, that of the villain who summoned the demon to kill all her supposed friends and lover and somehow Taylor’s character, the heroine of the film, manages to kill it and get away safely.

Yeah, absolutely not watching this; the script sounds like crap; from the look on her face when Taylor told us the plot, Arturia’s not going to see it either. I also get the feeling that it wasn’t a role that Taylor would have taken, but she told me that Michelle is an old friend of hers since high school and she’s here both for a paycheck and moral support for Michelle.

“So anyway, Edwin kisses me, then moves to kiss me on the cheek, then down my neck like it’s foreplay, and then he stops and starts convulsing. At first I thought he stopped because he had to, well, act; Edwin’s gay and his partner’s visiting the set this week. But then I get a good look at him and he’s turning gray like an old black and white TV and his eyes are rolling towards the back of his head and I screamed and backed away from him. I must’ve been out of my mind, because Turner Broadwell – he’s a stuntman and is playing the demon – had to stop me and give me his sweater before I ran out into the open, topless.” She shook her head and added, “I don’t remember much afterwards. The medical staff checked me out and said I was okay, but they had to call an ambulance for Edwin. Cops interviewed me yesterday, and my scenes with Edwin are on hold until he recovers.” She turned to Taylor. “How’s he doing?”

“Basil came by this morning and said the doctors hadn’t seen anything like it before, so they’re holding him indefinitely, which could damage the chances of the film being finished. Basil’s offered to take the role if need be, given that Edwin hasn’t filmed many scenes yet.” Taylor then explained to us that Basil, like his boyfriend, was an actor; they met on the set of a previous film where they starred as rivals for the same girl’s affections. Ironically, unlike Edwin, Basil was bisexual, so it would “technically” be easier for him to film said scenes.

“That wouldn’t be fair to Edwin,” Michelle said. “His career took a downturn after that DUI incident last year, and this is his comeback vehicle. If they hire Basil in his stead, that’s only going to cost him future roles.”

“I know,” Taylor told Michelle. “According to Larry, Larissa’s going to fight to keep Edwin – she apparently wrote the role for him specifically, but with two people down from this weird instance, the suits might just can the production and pull us out in case of infe—” There’s another scream and apparently acting on instinct, Arturia rushes out of the trailer towards the direction of the noise. I tell Taylor and Michelle to stay put before following Arturia.

As I get out there’s a crowd of people by the treeline and there’s white smoke rising into the air. As I get there, I see someone setting down a fire extinguisher and the closest trees are clearly burnt. A man in his forties is lying there on the ground with Arturia hunched over him and from the pallor of his skin, he’s in deep, possibly fatal lotothosis. I pull someone aside and say, “Call 911 now.” He rushes off and I tell the onlookers to scatter, that the police and paramedics will be here soon and whoever saw what’s going on to not go anywhere except their trailer or workshop or whatever. They all nod and head their separate ways.

As I crouch down next to Arturia, she says, “Turner Broadwell – the guy in question. He’s alive, but he’ll be comatose once the lotothosis is done. Another person found him when he noticed that there was green fire all around here.”

“Green fire?” I’ve already got a bad feeling about this.

“Yeah. Apparently they’re using a copper-based flammable for the scenes where they need demonfire. Apparently there are some real-world scenes that need it instead of post-production.”

“Yes, but have you ever thought about how you shapeshift?”

“Not really, it just comes naturally, why?” A split-second later, it hit her. “You don’t mean….”

“I do,” I tell her as I hear the sound of sirens in the distance. “You Earth changelings have had to learn how to do it with minimal magic bleed, because it’s not as plentiful here. But changelings back home do it without a care, and guess what color their magic is?” I gave my friend a grim look. “Since I’ve been training her, Katie’s magic is growing in level and guess what color that is, too.”

Arturia sighs. “I really was hoping you weren’t going to tell me what I think you’re telling me.”

“Yes. I think we’re dealing with a rogue queen. And worse, she knows what she’s doing.”

Hours later, the trip back to the hotel is quiet, save for the rainstorm we’re driving through on the way back. We have the radio off, because apparently Arturia wants to stew in her juices. Taylor is asleep in the back seat; she wanted to stay the night with us at our hotel both because she doesn’t feel safe in hers and as a throwback, she’s entitled to know what we know. Both Arturia and I agree that whatever’s going on, Taylor’s not at fault and there’s a different, previously unregistered changeling at work.

“I’ve got the report right here. Mounties on scene really didn’t want to cough up anything; fortunately, I told them I was ex-Bureau and after they confirmed that with the local contact they were much more willing to give me access. Turns out the local farms have been here for generations; I checked with the Toronto office and both families check out – after the first incident they started their own investigation and found that both families are normal human. The nearest throwback that lives around here lives in Waterloo, and she has an alibi: she was on her honeymoon in Europe the day the first incident happened.” She threw her notepad on the dashboard and groaned in frustration. “I know it’s not Taylor, but I have to do something to protect her!”

“You must really love her,” I state as an aside. I wonder what it’s like to have a sibling that loves you unconditionally.

“Of course! She’s my little sister. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because of what’s happening with your family?” I ask, stopping the car at the intersection as we get off the highway.

She replies coldly, “I don’t think that’s appropriate to discuss with my boss. Buy me a few drinks first, then take advantage of me, sure, but I’m not talking.”

“I’d like to think we’re friends beside the employer-employee bit,” I tell her. “And I’ll bet you haven’t told Aileen.”

“No,” she replies in a sad voice. “It’s not that I think she would tell her brother, but she has enough problems in her own life without me adding to them.”

“You need to get it out of your system before it throws you off your game, Arturia.” A story is called for, both a truth and a lie. “Did I ever tell you why I’m here on Earth?” I then tell her the whole story from the day I was born to the point I arrived here. I debate whether to tell her the truth or not…

…then I tell her. If I expect her to tell me the truth, I should as well. Maybe she’ll believe me, maybe she won’t, but if she’s my friend then I owe her the truth.

“So you’re not really Luna?” she asks me as I finish.

“I am and I’m not. I’m what’s made up of her negative feelings and emotions, given my own body and then stripped of all the anger and accompanying baggage. Think of me as a clone, if that makes sense.”

“Okay. We’re still friends, right?”

“I’m still an alicorn, even if I’m not a princess,” I tell her, “and you’re still my friend.”

“Good. By the way, not telling Molloy about that. He’s an ass, and you don’t need the headache.” She closes her eyes for a few seconds, then tells me what she needs to.

“First off, Taylor’s right. Mom is my mother, regardless of what happened back then, and I love her dearly. She raised me since I was a child and she’s the only mother I know, so… yeah, Taylor’s absolutely right. And maybe it’s just my own hangups bothering me, because the day before I found out, I didn’t know. I know that sounds weird, but it’s the only way I can describe it. I didn’t know and I don’t think I would have cared. Mom was Mom, Dad was Dad, Taylor was my sister, and everything was great. That was until Dad erred in sending me a book. Maybe he didn’t know he sent it to me, or maybe he was confessing in a very roundabout way, but….” She sighed. “It was my mother’s – that is, Galadriel’s – diary.”

“How bad?” I asked her. I already had a feeling the moment she mentioned the diary, but….

“Galadriel found out about her sister’s – that is, Gabrielle, the mother I know now – and her husband’s affair two days after I was born. I hadn’t even come back home from the hospital yet. According to the entries, she didn’t believe it at first and thought that she’d seen Gabrielle – that is, Mom – accidentally kiss Dad. But as the weeks went on, she found it was no accident – and Dad didn’t exactly shun the affection, either.

“The last entry was a hair over two months after I was born. It said that she’d confronted Alexander – my father – over the affair, and that he admitted to it. That once she was done writing this, she was headed off to see a divorce attorney she’d contacted just in case.”

“I take it she never made it,” I ask, feeling guilty. I was right. I hate being right at times like this.

“No. The last page has a news article from the Herald-Examiner talking about a four-car pileup on the Northbound 405. One car had been hit so hard it got knocked off the overpass and landed top first. After reading that, I had to ask my parents about it. The answer I got was like a blow to the gut: yes, Mom is technically my aunt. With Galadriel gone, instead of ending their relationship like they should have, Mom moved in with him. Galadriel hadn’t even been dead a year before Mom and Dad married. Maybe it was because I needed a mother, or maybe it was the guilt; they claim to not really remember and maybe it’s none of my business. Anyway, they ended up having a civil ceremony because when my grandparents found out, they disowned Mom. Took them years to reconcile with her, and that was probably due to Taylor’s birth more than anything else. From what I found out from my paternal grandparents, they just agree not to talk about it.

“But do you know what the hardest part about all this is? It’s not that my mother really isn’t my mother, or that my kid sister was born indirectly because Dad didn’t have the decency to keep his pants on. I’ve forgiven them for all that, even if I can’t face them. No, the hardest part is because I looked up to Mom. She was my role model, so perfect and I wanted to be just like her.” Although my eyes are on the road, I can hear her starting to sob, and frankly, given how Arturia can be, it’s both humanizing and surprising at the same time. “I wanted to grow up to be just like her and now I don’t know what to do. That’s why I quit the FBI last year – Mom used to be an admin assistant for the local office until she had to quit because of everything involving her affair with Dad. She took a job as a secretary for a law firm and that’s what she still does today. But I wanted to be just like her and now I’m afraid of being just like her—”

“Because of what you said to North?” Honestly, I know she was being honest about being attracted to him, but he wouldn’t stray and even though I haven’t known her that long, I know she’s got enough integrity not to give in to temptation, jokes aside.

“No, I was serious when I said I’m not doing that. Even before all this I was never the type to be a homewrecker and I refuse to be one now in light of what’s going on in my life. The truth is that I’m afraid the one constant in my life isn’t that anymore and I have never lived any other way.”

“Does she know about this? Your mother, I mean.”

“No. I haven’t spoken to her – her or Dad – in months, save through Taylor. Things just got too hard, and…I know they’re probably giving me my own space to figure it out, but….” I gen up a box of tissues and give them to her; she needs them. “Thanks,” she tells me.

“Keep going,” I tell her. We’re already at the hotel, but I don’t mind driving around a little more just so she can get this shit off her chest. Seriously, she always struck me as the stoic, can-do-anything type. Clearly she’s not, and honestly I think I prefer this Arturia to the one I first met.

“Am I Galadriel’s child or Gabrielle’s? Galadriel, my grandmother told me, was a dreamer. That’s why she chose my names: Celestia, a more ornate variant of Celeste; and Arturia, because she loved the Matter of Britain. However, Taylor got her names – Taylor Abigail – because Mom admitted to me that if I had really been her kid, that was what she would have named me. Can you imagine that? I don’t know what felt worse at that moment: that Mom had admitted she’d had an affair with her sister’s husband – while said sister was pregnant with me, like I was some prototype; or that Taylor got ‘my’ names, as if she was a substitute for me.”

“Mom never thought that about you,” I hear a drowsy voice murmur from the back seat, and I’m glad we stopped at the light, because the look of shock on Arturia’s face is both comical and heartbreaking at the same time. I quickly round the corner and pull into a parking space, because these two need time to talk. I’d teleport back to the room, but I need to be here to give support to my friend.

“Taylor,” Arturia says as she turns to face her sister.

“Mom loves you. She can’t help but think of you as her own, because you are her blood! Yes, Mom and Dad feel horrible about what they did to Aunt Galadriel – they have spent our lives making up for it, especially with you because you are Galadriel’s child – both hers and Mom’s! You have never been a disappointment to them, unlike me – remember when they were so adamant about me not going into acting because child actors don’t have long careers? They pointed to you, their older child, as the example of what I should be. Not my cousin – my sister. So please, forgive them – really forgive them, sis. They’ve suffered and punished themselves enough without their older daughter adding to it.” Taylor, despite being in the back seat, reached forward and hugged her sister as much as she could, one sibling comforting another, and while both start crying, I can’t help but do the same.

Damn you, Celestia, for not giving Luna the peace she needed. And ironically, thanks – because I wouldn’t be here if you did.

Once I walk Taylor and Arturia to the latter’s room, I ask the younger sister, “Is everything going to be okay?”

“It’ll be fine, Moon,” Taylor insists. “Thanks for taking care of Arturia. I’m her kid sister, so she doesn’t always listen to me, so it’s good that she has a friend she can rely on.” She grins and adds, “Even if said friend is her boss and a princess.”

In the background, though I can’t see her, I hear Arturia say, “Hi, Mom? Dad?” and I know that’s going to be a long conversation, so I just nod, tell Taylor to give her sister a hug for me and I’ll see them in the morning.

I walk back to my room and debate if I want to fly back home to see North. I know I wiped myself flying back and forth from Chicago, and Guleph is much farther. Still, being away from him makes my heart ache. So much is happening in our lives and it feels like we barely have time for one another nowadays, but I love him and he loves me and this is a lifetime thing. And as I close my eyes and let myself drift to sleep, I think about North’s first wife, Rachel, and what she had with him, and that’s something I want as well.

I just hope that I get my happily ever after instead of a brutal end at the hooves of a bitchy white alicorn.