Prim Rose's Redemption

by Hope

Chapter 17

Two months passed, and with them passed many unseen barriers that Equestria had been operating under, which had gone unmentioned for hundreds of years.

The guards began planning their patrols and duties together. The guard captains were seen walking together and talking often enough that a rare rumor of her interest in him sprung up that Fury had to denounce, red faced and flustered in a sunset meeting with both wings of the guard.

The clouds over the castle became barely noticeable as the weather pegusi began a late winter, delayed by the violent events that had occurred just days before it was supposed to start, disrupting everything from the agricultural industry to the supplies of workers that transported water-laden clouds from the Canterhorn mountains to the settlements spread around Equestria.

But winter began nonetheless.

As court sessions were moved to Dawn and Dusk to allow Princess Luna to assist Prince Spring in his duties, the shape of work and play itself changed in Everfree City. Many stores and businesses found themselves closing for the latest hours of night and brightest hours of day to allow them to remain open during court hours, and gain the money from the greatest number of ponies.

The small group of Thestrals that were living in the Bricks near the castle’s rear bridge felt safe enough to move to the Puffs, a decided step up from the nervous isolation they’d had before.

In an attempt to placate Princess Luna and gain her favor, Mayor Spectra and the Solar loyalists that had created the petition had a statue made, a statue of the princess in black marble, sitting in a fountain pool and looking up into the sky with a determined gaze, and three white granite spheres in the pool around her. The whole monument was placed where she’d fallen from the sky after deflecting the meteors, and named “Fallen Star.”

The blatant attempt at pleasing the princess gained only an appearance at the unveiling, and a grim nod from Luna, nothing more. The changes she’d made stayed.

Tourists began to arrive from across Equestria, many carrying with them exaggerated or completely false tales they’d heard to explain the sudden absence of their favorite princess. There were stories of how Princess Luna had assassinated her sister, or driven her to madness. There were even more far fetched third-hoof stories of how Princess Celestia hadn’t actually left at all, and how she was simply leaving for an extended vacation at the nation’s expense. There was no attempt to enforce a story, but the more fanciful claims died out on their own.

Then, there was the memorial.

Many had died, not just in the castle but throughout the city. Many ponies had been killed in fires and collapsing buildings, and some were simply missing, presumed lost. As the first heavy blanket of snow lay across Equestria, a grand funeral was held, one the likes of which had not been seen since the griffon war many years before, and would likely never be seen again. Those who’d had family among the missing or dead had gathered since the tragedy, and even more traveled from the nearest cities and towns once the event was announced. Throughout the night, clouds were assembled to seat any pegusi or thestrals, and wooden stands were constructed to hold the rest.

In the blasted churned earth where the three falling stars had finally come to rest, the ground was leveled, and the crater furthest from the city was turned into a field of waiting holes, with stone markers prepared for every known pony. Eleven unknown ponies lay together, their pine boxes side by side next to the larger grave that would be marked with the memorial that would form the centerpiece of the circular graveyard.

Day and night guard in their finest armor stood guard on every side, as Princess Luna, Prince Spring, Prim Rose, and Golden Sparkle walked along the center path, flanked on either side by the stands that were filled with grieving and stunned figures. They were still and quiet in the pre-dawn light that was just beginning to grace the horizon, while the moon remained directly overhead, as though watching protectively over it’s Princess.

The four ponies arrived in front of the monument and the lectern that sat in front of it, facing the crowd. The four sat facing the lectern, joining the crowd and leading it in a way, joining in the mourning.

As the light began to grow, the Master of Ceremonies strode out from among the graves, towards the lectern. He was followed by two dozen of his attendants. In times of celebration, some of these would play music, but now they wore black robes with gold and silver trim, marking whether they served in honor of the sun or the moon. The moon had a scant five representatives among them, as the Solar court had heavily influenced tradition and spiritual belief in the last hundred years as Luna had done relatively little, eschewing pomp and ritual.

Many of the assistants had been weeping, and had pointedly not dried their faces, in fact some of the stallions had marked the track of their tears with ash, making it stand out all the more starkly. This was not just a funeral, this was a funeral held for almost one hundred equines who had been murdered. In opposition to tradition, though, the murderer was not being held in shackles, and the Master would likely not mention her role in the event, as she was still widely considered the most favored Princess there had ever been.

Sometimes it truly was that simple. One does not speak ill of the beloved.

Once the Master reached the lectern, the others took positions behind the eleven unknown coffins, as though standing guard over the bodies. The Master of Ceremonies reared up and put his forehooves on the Lectern, so that he could be seen by all, and his voice would more surely project out into the masses, while the unicorn assistants lit up their horns and directed the magic to the Master’s throat, enhancing his voice to reach out to even the furthest pegusi.

“There are no sure words to heal sorrow,” he began, his voice even and deep.

Prim watched her Princess carefully, as Luna seemed to struggle, her expression hard to read but her eyes becoming glossy and distant, as though she was seeing something beyond the graveyard, beyond the mourning all the other ponies were experiencing.

“So in times of sorrow, ‘tis often not the words said which change us, but the deeds done. Nonetheless, the words I have are meant to give some solace to every pony in mourning.”

The stallion gave a brief glance to Princess Luna, and Prim saw that Luna took note, a tear finally falling, and her jaw tensing as her breathing became rougher and wet at the edges. Prim wondered what she would do if Princess Luna began to weep, or if it was the appropriate response, and she should do nothing. But for the moment, Luna grieved without becoming noticeable to anypony further away than Prim.

“The great mystery of life, is in it’s ending. In all known history, none have breached that barrier and returned. No evidence of what lays beyond has ever been made firm. In this some ponies find dread, it is true. It is only natural to fear the unknown, for a time. But given many years of contemplation I must, by my moral righteousness, come to a different view. The unknown beyond could be anything. But most assuredly it is an absence of suffering. For all that we strive daily and nightly to do good, to be pure of heart and soul, the world is unceasing in its complexity. There is hunger, for as long as there is the will to eat. There are the cries of a foal, for as long as new things are there to be discovered. These things are beautiful in their own ways, but the suffering and complexity of life fades when faced with it’s end, and we can only know that these ponies shall be remembered in gilded light for eternity, and that their suffering is no more.”

He took one hoof off the lectern and drew forth a parchment scroll, which he unrolled carefully.

“Nine of the beloved were guards. Servants of the crowns, who swore their lives to us all, carrying Equestria’s banner proudly. But they were much more than guards alone…”

Prim could not follow the recounting in detail. As much as she may feel ashamed for not knowing the guards who had passed away, she did not know most of the castle staff. Of course she would mourn them, but it was at leg’s length, a hurt that was not so personal. She listened, and let it all flow over her like dark water.

“--So it is with heavy heart that I ask now for the families of the deceased to lay their gifts upon the coffins, so that we may enshrine their memories in the love they are owed.”

The tide reversed, as a slow trickle of ponies left the stands to walk into the graveyard. Soon it became a flood. It seemed like an endless stream of ponies swept out across the grass with precious trinkets and flowers clutched close to their chests, tear-drop-stained and damp in the morning dew as the sunlight began to grace the highest clouds, lending a surreal quality to the scene, as though it were separate from day or night, a liminal space between time and emotion that seemed to drag on and on, until finally the mourners returned to the stands.

Prim wondered idly if the Master of Ceremonies practiced standing on his hind legs for long periods, to stay perched with his fore hooves on the lectern for so long. She wondered how much of this all was a performance, an art form for the stallion that had likely performed last rites for soldiers in the last war, and had taken the last wishes of many of the ponies who were being buried.

The Master of Ceremonies looked to the two royals.

“Your highnesses?”

Spring stepped forward first, with a wreath of daisies he may have actually woven himself. It was simple, but heart-breakingly honest in it’s symbology. Prim wondered if he knew that they symbolized innocence. He laid it down on the middle of the eleven boxes and then bowed ever so slightly to them, before returning to his throne.

A thousand eyes turned to Luna.

In her magic she raised eleven white roses, each bound in silver thread. Prim Rose had prepared them, of course, and they were impeccable. She strode confidently to the coffins and one by one laid the roses out, before inclining her head and closing her eyes in respect.

“Speak!”

Luna’s eyes shot open and she looked up to the pegasus stallion that had shouted. It was one of the relatives, clad in gold and fury, standing on a thin cloud and looking down at her with impunity. Murmuring broke out among the crowd, and shortly more ponies joined in the cry. It was not a desire for absolution, but by the symbols of the sun on his clothes it was an attempt to hold her accountable for the death of his child.

“Speak! Speak!”

Princess Luna’s horn lit with golden flame, as she halted the rise of the sun for the moment, her sense of proper order demanding that she withhold the sunrise for the proper time in the ceremony.

She then turned to face the crowd, and raised her voice to be properly heard. Prim Rose watched her with adoration that out of place at a funeral, wondering at how calm the alicorn seemed in that moment of blazing emotion.

“Were it that we could give our wings to bring life to the lost, ‘twould be done. Were it that we could turn back the clock of time to attempt a finer solution, ‘twould be done. But in this dawn twilight we find ourself bereft of our sister’s light, and our ponies lives. There is no more painful duty of a royal than the duty to see those buried whom we hath failed. There is no more stark reminder of the consequences of our actions.”

She hesitated, and though all others likely saw a pony in conflict, Prim saw Princess Luna break. She’d let her heart decay in the past days, and she spoke more from the heart than from the crown.

“We are not the princess that wouldst be preferred by thee on this day of sorrow, that we know,” she said in a near whisper. Those in the stands that could hear relayed the message back through the mass of spectators. “If we had the right to demand it of the Fates, we would give to thee our sister in our place, without hesitation.”

She raised her head again and set her stance, finding some firmness in her heart.

“This day, we are but another mourner, another loved of the lost, wishing for our loved one returned. This day, we join thee, and we find ourself without a solution.”

She then turned back to the coffins. After a moment of thought, her horn lit and a thin silver-blue blade of magic appeared. She used it to cut a group of strands from her powder blue mane, and then scattered them among the coffins, before returning to her seat and facing the lectern again, her face an impassive mask.

The rest of the ceremony was swift, and the grinding of stone as the eleven were sealed below the monument matched the sunrise, as it brought light to the graveyard, and the many ponies were laid to rest together, under the dawn light. Princess Luna left as soon as it would be considered appropriate, and Prim Rose had to canter to catch up to her long-legged gait.

“What is contained within our schedule for this day?” Princess Luna asked, keeping her gaze on the castle in the distance as her retinue fell into step around and above her, some pegusi and thestrals flying in formation to protect her from an aerial intrusion.

“We hath received and processed requests for audience sent by many of the family and survivors of the lost, to form a singular court this day. Twere appropriate it seemed as all would be in attendance, all may attend to your Highness then after,” Prim explained. “Then, a lunch to be shared with Prince Spring by his royal Highness’s request, followed by a half length period of rest and sleep before an evening meeting with the dual guard in preparation for the increased traffic of lesser known ponies to repair the solar wing, now that suitable sources of proper stone and glass have been found. Then, dusk court and the beginning of thy proper reign, though I hath taken the liberty of ensuring it is an idle rein to accommodate for this day’s unusual requirements.”

Princess Luna smiled ever so slightly, glancing to the little pony trotting next to her.

“Truly thou art indispensable. Seneschal is a position oft thought of as lesser. Truly, thy persistence hath served us well.”

Prim blushed at the high praise and even managed a trotting curtsy.

“I only wish to fulfill the job I hath been given,” She said proudly. “It is gratifying to hear that I hath done so.”

Princess Luna nodded as they crossed the bridge and entered the castle grounds. The courtyard was empty even of guards besides the retinue that accompanied the princess. To the far left the gate that led to the lunar gardens was closed, and Prim reminisced briefly on the time she spent there, not exactly joyful memories but still connected inexorably to her time and new life in the castle by Princess Luna’s side.

To the far right, the gate that led to the solar gardens was covered with cloth to prevent anyone from looking in at the destroyed section of castle without flying overhead in clear view. The structures of the vaults and tunnels below that had been exposed were considered to be sensitive, and not proper to be viewed by those who did not work on them directly.

The group marched into the great hall and many of the guards immediately split off to take their normal positions around the castle, while the mares in waiting followed Princess Luna up to the throne. They then began fixing her mane and tail, brushing out her coat as Prim Rose sat in front of her, pulling a scroll from her bags.

“I hath all the names of those that shall attend this special session, if your highness would wish to review them.”

Princess Luna chuckled as her mane was pulled out of her eyes and the mares in waiting began fretting over the frayed section of hair that remained after Luna had cut it.

“Only the heads of each household, to be brief.”

“‘Tis still quite a list, your Highness. Perhaps only those whom asked for direct meetings? It is assumed they are most determined to speak to thee.”

Princess Luna nodded in agreement, and Prim Rose quickly rolled through the scroll to get to the section of names she sought.

“The largest group of concern is led by Mayor Svelte Dressage, as it consists of all surviving now parentless children of the victims. She shall be representing them all herself, but has listed her assistant as Nova Star, the eldest of the orphans of this tragedy.”

Prim Rose paused as Princess Luna winced, one of the mares in waiting having attempted to tuck the errant strip of mane under the rest of her mane and back toward her neck, snagging it on the edge of her crown.

“Leave it as it is,” Princess Luna sighed. “We shall see to the style of our mane another time. Please, fetch us water and some figs, Ananas.”

The red and cream mare nodded quickly and ducked away into a side tunnel, before Princess Luna looked back to Prim.

“Continue, please.”

“Svelte Dressage shall be assisted by Nova Star, the eldest of those orphaned,” Prim summarized before moving to the next entry. “Steel Shield was one of the most insistent of the plaintiffs, he seems under the mistaken impression that your Highness executed the attack, not D-- Daybreaker.”

Prim hesitated, surprised by her own stutter, but Princess Luna covered the pause smoothly by choosing that moment to speak.

“It seems those rumors may indeed cause us trouble. We must have two day guard present to show joint solidarity, and Golden Sparkle attending to the solar throne.”

She nodded to one of the servants, who quickly ran off to fetch the requested ponies.

“There is also a widow and three widowers that had requested direct audiences. Mint Mortar is a well known herbalist from a small village to the West, who is seen as something of a spiritual leader in the Western forests, and the SouthWestern deserts. Her husband was staying in noble accommodations within the castle by Princess Celestia’s request when the solar wing was destroyed. Her letter mentions requests for a monument, reparations, but the point she seems most earnest on was her request for a body. There is none so far as we have found. She may have asked for money and a monument, but her grief seems to be her driving force, not so much a political grievance.”

“We shall be thankful of that, at least,” Princess Luna sighed.

Ananas returned with Princess Luna’s snack, and she ate slowly after signaling Prim to continue.

“The three widowers have mixed motivations but not much influence to execute their grievances. Joint Crux is a novice inventor and architect who was married to one of the day guard. He seems just to wish for some emotional address, though in his letter there was mention of his inability to care for himself financially, without his wife’s income. Glint Jewel demanded an unreasonable sum of money, title, and land in his letter. He does not seem to have a profession and was married to a guard as well. Finally, Altimus was married to one of the scribes, and wishes only to understand what took place from thy perspective, as he witnessed the fire in the sky but does not understand what caused Princess Celestia to do such horrible things.”

Princess Luna sighed and put her water aside, thanking Ananas for fetching it for her.

“It must surely be what our sister experienced, to hear so many names of importance and barely remember them in the next second. Svelte with little Nova Star, Steel Shield, Mint Mortar, Joint Crux, Glint Jewel, and Altimus?”

Prim Rose nodded, and Luna sat up a bit taller.

“We are ready, then. See them in once they hath all assembled. Any latecomers may come in at their leisure.”

As instructed, Prim headed out the great doors and to the gatehouse, to begin allowing in the crowd of ponies that were still dressed all in black and tears, to see their only remaining Princess.

Comments

[Hope]

8412479
Thank you, these comments mean so very much to me, though I'll admit the driving force behind this story is my wife's enjoyment of it, every comment brightens my day and makes me that much more eager to leap on the next chapter. I went ahead and published another one, and I've got 6 more lined up to be edited, and I'm gradually writing new chapters every week.

[Cander]

Well this is turning out to be an interesting alternate timeline. Will there perhaps be a sequel to this with the mane six? I would love to see your take on Twilight being taught by Luna instead of Celestia.

[Cander]

P.S. We need a Luna in the emotes.

[Hope]

8413485
We definitely do!
I'm thinking that if this story does well and gets featured a couple times, I'll put up a vote on what to do next, in this same timeline.
WWI, the industrial revolution, WWII, the Changeling war (the cold war), or modern (the show's events)
I'd prefer to hit at least one interim period before modern, because it lays a much greater baseline and canon of growth for Luna between the two. Jumping from this Luna to the modern Luna would be jarring, and a lot of readers may cry "OOC"

🌙 That's the closest to a Luna emote I could find, heh.

[Cander]

A Luna doing the Royal Canterlot Voice would be great.
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