True Harmony

by Saturni_Rose

Part 22: Come back to me.

Before Luna could think up a response, let alone utter it, Celestia changed positions in a split second of yellow solar flashing energies, her body already spun full forward to hammer her rear hooves down upon her brow. Luna bit her tongue as she lurched face first into the snow to taste cold and that sickly, familiar, metallic tang. One eye sprang open as she immediately made to retaliate, jerking her hooves about to spin her tilted body round, aided by diagonal lashes of her wings. As she reared, her flailing hooves caught Celestia across her cheek and jaw in surprise.

Reeling back, Celestia wiped her chin. Her sister hadn’t even hardly broken the skin. But it still smarted. Looking up, she found Luna already up and flinging herself toward her, hooves wrapping around her to knock her awkwardly across her back. So she pulled her hindlegs in and kicked her sister up into the air, horn aimed. A beam, bright as sunflowers dancing on the breeze of a summer’s day, erupted forth.

Luna beat one wing, spiraling off from the sunbeam’s path. She saw the light already beginning to flash around Celestia, and flapped again to turn about in the air. When Celestia appeared at her side, the two had strikes aimed for one another’s heads, but their bucking hooves clashed, sending both of them careening off from one another. As she flipped back, Luna summoned forth a volley of lunar missiles, loosing them only to find Celestia had had the same idea.

The air filled up with magic bolts. A few landed by Pinkie, crashing the snowdrifts like siege munitions, kicking up clouds of frost. She didn’t bother scrambling away. From the magic space behind her wing, she produced a paper bucket of popcorn and began flicking pieces into her mouth using the tiny opposable claws. Several missed, as she was still getting used to these things.

Luna soared down, hooves skimming snow as she and her sister strafed about one another, their eyes locked. When she saw the yellow charge along her horn, Luna thought quickly. With a blink of pale blue, she appeared a couple dozen yards above the rolling, snowy mountain top. Celestia had reappeared where she’d just been, as she figured she was about to. Aiming down at her, the moonbeam lit the space between them in a flash.

Hearing the thrumming energies before she could see them, Celestial erected a warding bubble. Solar and lunar forces crackled as the two glared at each other. One pushed harder against the other, and the opposite sister rose to meet her increased force. To Luna’s chagrin, she felt the first beads of sweat, despite how cool it was. Her sister, meanwhile, was stone faced and seemingly dry as desert bone.

“Curious.” mused Celestia, horn still pulsing with magic. “You wear the Element of Magic, but don’t tap into it. Why do you still hold back against me?”

“Because I don’t want to do this!” growled Luna through the strain.

“And you think I do? I love you, Luna. You’re the only good thing to have come from our royal house.” She disappeared, bubble and all, leaving her spot to be ripped apart by Luna’s beam spell. In that same breath, she reappeared beside Luna and lashed her with solar thread. “But I’m not holding back.”

Luna’s stomach lurched one way as she rose, then the other as she flew back first into the snow. The trip had left her slightly dazed. When a face appeared above her, she first expected it to be Celestia’s. Instead, it was Pinkie’s.

“I can help, you know. Just say the word.”

“I’d rather—” Luna rolled over as several sunbolts crashed into the ground where she lied. Rolling onto her hooves, she saw Pinkie leaping between the same volley. She created a shield above the two of them. “This is my fight. I may yet be the only one who can face her.”

Pinkie was looking up at the thrumming, buckling aural shield. Meeting Luna, she reached up and poked her forehead, right between the eyes. “This is your problem, you know. Still trying to play lone wolf paladin, protecting others. I bet the others think you’re talking this through and would go back for help if that failed. This doesn’t just affect you, though.”

“But…” Luna tried to balk, not wanting to let on Pinkie had guessed so correctly. The thought frustrated her. But then, she supposed few mares knew her better. Glancing up at Celestia, she redoubled her shield.

“You’re more stubborn than Rainbow and AJ combined.” Pinkie tapped the side of her own head. “Get this through your thick skull: you don’t have to go it alone.”

Celestia appeared between them in a flash. A wave of light blasted outward from her horn, sending both of them tumbling back from her. It was only a split second’s hesitation before she decided to fly after Luna first.

That second was all Luna needed to roll back across her shoulders, rise above Celestia’s trajectory, throw herself down upon her hooves first. All four crashed against her sister’s haunches, burying Celsetia with a hearty crunch into the snow her coat nearly disappeared into.

“Cease!” cried Luna as she lurched down to shove her sister’s face back into the snow her body kept melting when she tried to rise. “We can stop at any moment.”

Hooves and wings moved in tandem to shove the ground away from Celestia, even as Luna tried to push back. She tilted, and as Luna began to tumble away, spun herself about faster to grab her and quickly switch positions, Luna’s shoulders slamming down into the slush.

“Where has the forethought afforded by our long lifespans gone?” spat Celestia. As Luna tried to seemingly bite back, she planted her hoof firmly against her cheek and drove her face back to the ground. “What happens seventy years from now when you have to bury her anyway? Will you react as poorly then as you are now?”

Luna kicked her stomach and paid little mind to the flecks of spittle it sent with a winded bellow. Pushing up, she slammed back down as Celestia refused to let her go. A yelp squeaked out of her clenched face as she realized all too suddenly those wounds from Pinkie still weren’t terribly healed. With a cough, she snarled out: “And have you asked that of Cadance regarding Shining? Or are your new favorite pets exempt where I’m not?”

Celestia didn’t recoil as Luna’s horn immolated her hooves with pale fire as they pressed and struggled against one another. She let the lunar flames lick and gather up her legs. The burn meant nothing to her. Wry and bitter, she said: “Oh ho ho. Well. As long as we’re airing the grievances, then!” She grunted as she received another kick to the gut. But she was readily clenched this time and lost no breath. “I can’t help feeling like you don’t want the rift between us to ever heal!”

Luna huffed as lunar pale flames danced all around them, a stream beginning to form away. “That’s absurd. What, because we’re having a spat right now? If you’d just—”

“No,” rebuked Celestia, pressing her down again, “because you don’t talk to me—you haven’t said hardly a word to me since the Gala—and I offer you help and it only upsets you!”

Luna whined again as shoving, grappling hooves found her ribs. It took a shuddering breath before she could find her voice again. “You don’t ask me what help I want. Like how you assigned me guards without a word.”

The fury began to fade from Celestia’s eyes.

“That’s why I love my friends—why I love her despite our problems.” Luna shook her head, pushing back far more weakly. “There is no greater show of love than being truly understood and respected.”

A single tear formed at the corner of Celestia’s eye. She just then realized the trail of blood trickling from one end of Luna’s mouth. No doubt her doing. Worse yet, she noticed the red beginning to show through her bandages. What was she doing? “Luna… I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it. I was just upset, I swear. I-I just wanted to help, I—”

“I know. And I’m sorry too.” Luna took a deep breath and let the flames subside. “But I’m finally ready to accept the help of somepony I love. And this time, it’s help I actually want.”

Celestia’s grip loosened and a wavering smile overtook her. At long last, she finally felt like she had her sister back. “Oh, Luna…”

The shake of Luna’s head was full of pain—untold centuries of lingering hurt feelings. “I’m so sorry. But I didn’t mean you. Not this time.”

A regal heart could be a powerful thing. And hers began to sink, along with a single tear splashing her sister’s face. “What?”

“Surprise!” joyously screamed Pinkie as she jumped onto Celestia’s side, hooves wrapping tight around her waist. The queen lurched back with shock as Pinkie’s bat wings gave one hearty beat. The two of them rolled back through the air, and the head of royalty spiked the ground head first. If they didn’t know any better, the ponies present thought they might well have heard a bell ring twice upon the open air. But that was absurd.

Celestia rolled over and sluggishly pushed back onto her hooves. Dazed, she watched Pinkie help Luna up. With a shake of her aching head, she drearily said: “You cannot be serious.”

“I’m not serious, I’m Pinkie.” said Pinkie, far more bubbly than she likely should have.

A soft smile spread across Luna’s face as she watched her snort with laughter, seemingly not mindful of the locks curling back. Just a little more and she’d have her back.

The queen’s head sank, crestfallen. “You spoke before on being alone. I too was alone, Luna. I was alone for so long without you. So many friends and advisors came and went across so many painful centuries. It hurt. It really did.”

Luna and Pinkie’s smiles faded. They looked over at her, good humor fading.

“I was so elated when I realized another pony had it in them to become an alicorn. Cadance meant I’d finally have a familiar face to keep again.” A bitter laugh burbled up from Celestia. “But they’re all like the lost little daughters I never had, all needing constant attention and teaching. I’d hardly call any of them the friends I’d been needing. Maybe it was a mistake. Had I waited just a little longer, you could have told me that yourself. And maybe things would finally be okay between us again.”

“It still can be.” said Luna, stepping forth.

“Then prove it.” Celestia’s purple eyes flashed from behind her drooping aural locks of shifting hue. “Put her in Tartarus. Prove to me you’re capable of doing the hard things you must; for the greater good.”

Luna sighed. “I know this is taking a while, but I can reach her. And what of me? Would you assign me such a fate if you felt it necessary for that greater good? Would you do so, here and now?”

“I’ve done worse to you.” Celestia’s smirk was bitter and rueful and bordering on furious. “Tartarus would be kinder by far.”

“Hardly.” Luna’s frown pulled to one side.

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown, Luna. Of course I don’t want to pick between you and our people. Of course I want to pick you. I love you far more than any stranger I ought to protect. But if you’re going to put their innocent lives at risk, I’ll do what I must. However hard it will be—however much it pains me—however much it pains us.”

Pinkie sidled up beside Luna. “Are you done?”

Celestia rose, standing tall. She flung her hair back behind her. “No.”

The two of them felt a little warmer and turned to see the sun flaring out. It seemingly grew and grew until its fiery tendrils were twice as large as usual. The sky turned mid day blue, despite it still being dawn.

Luna shielded her eyes. Her horn lit with a familiar pale energy, and she said: “Now who’s being ridiculous?”

“Oh,” groaned Celestia, “you’d better not.” Even as she reached out with her magic, she couldn’t stop it. That heavenly body still belonged to Luna, after all. The moon rose upon the horizon and eclipsed the blazing sun. In short order, the pale blue skies went ruddy; perfect for the season. The stars blinked their sleepy eyes in the false twilight. The queen’s cheeks were as flushed as the skies above. “You’d finally take back the moon, and for this?”

“My friend here needed a little help.” said Luna as though it was so small and mundane a matter.

Pinkie meanwhile leapt into the air and dove toward the snow as if it were a pool. Her body sank into the shadow, setting Celestia’s eyes wide. Looking about her, she suddenly realized how dark it had gotten. She looked back at Luna. There was only one recourse. To be rid of the dark, she had to have the moon returned. And there was only one way to do that.

Luna reached out and stomped the ground. A pillar of ice rose just as her sister flew toward her, interrupting her flight. When she landed on the shadow ridden ground, pink hooves rose to greet her. She lurched toward her sister, plowing through the snowdrifts like a train. She smacked the hooves dragging her several times, to no avail.

Pinkie rose from the shadow just high enough to launch Celestia. Luna spun about and bucked her hoof squarely into her chest. While her sister recovered, she hopped, turning again to crack her across her dizzy jaw.

Celestia shook out of it and lowered her horn with a fury. Then, it lowered even further as a hooked cane reached up from the shadow and yanked her down by her neck. Her sunbeam went wide. Teeth gritting, she stomped down hard and pulled the cane with all her might. It came up, but without Pinkie on the other end of it. Growling, she snapped the item in two and tossed the pieces aside.

“Hey,” complained Pinkie, “that was my aunt’s. She needs that to walk.” She was visible only from the chest up, hooves crossed with indignation.

Celestia made to get after her, but heard Luna making a move. She blank away in a flash, reappearing above them, reeling her horn back. Glowing lines of sunshine followed her horns path, carving lines in the snow before they erupted in walled bursts of fire. They appeared this way and that, cutting off their movement before disappearing in smolder and smoke.

Luna couldn’t stop herself, so shielded her leap through a new wall, finally reaching Pinkie. She wrapped her lunar threads about her hoof and pulled up, slingshotting her toward Celestia.

Pinkie kept her wings folded at her side for the initial rise, then gave the air a good lashing before slamming into her queen’s shoulder. As the two rapidly spun through the air, she said: “It’s okay if you get nauseous, we can take a break, haha!”

Celesia barely managed to regain control before they hit the ground. She aimed Pinkie for it this time, hoping for a little recompense. But after the shock washed up her legs, she realized she’d sank right into the shadowy ground yet again. She thrashed her hooves against the snow in frustration.

A moonbeam hit her side, throwing her back. Pinkie arose in her path, widening into a squat stance, one hoof bare and tapping a catcher’s mitt affixed to the other. Right before she could catch her, however, Celestia projected a flare to send her recoiling.

By the time Pinkie was blinking away the spots, the queen was behind her. When she turned at the sound of her, Celestia grabbed the mask and tried to take it from her. “Let’s see how much of a problem you are without this!”

Pinkie stayed attached to it as best she could, rear hooves dragging streaks in the snow and slush Celestia was melting with her temper. Luna had another volley of bolts prepped, but couldn’t cleanly aim with the two of them pushing, pulling, and spinning about. Celestia kicked her in the stomach and yanked again. As Pinkie lurched, the mask pulled away by inches yet. Leaping at Celestia before it could get away, her wings flailed, little claws scratching at her.

The mask fumbled from Celestia’s grasp as she reached for her face. Red streaks ran across her eyes and she let out a curdling scream, only to be quickly silenced when lunar bolts pelted her all along her torso, each new magic strike rocking her back another step as she struggled to keep her footing. By the time she finally placed an aural bubble around herself, massive welts were already forming bruises along her shoulders and ribs and neck. She huffed, wrenching one eye open despite the stinging.

Luna circled one way. Pinkie put her mask back on and circled the other. They surrounded her. Waiting.

Celestia wiped her other eye clear and met Luna’s wary gaze. All her sister’s muscles were tense, her horn aglow, ready for her to try something else and counterattack. Instead, Celestia pointed up at her face and, in as pathetic a tone as she could, told her sister: “She nearly gouged my eyes out. Luna, look at me. Please, be reasonable, she’s too far g—”

“But she didn’t. Did she?” Luna let the charge run along her horn. The instant that bubble was gone, her sister would receive another volley.

“Yeah, ain’t I generous?” asked Pinkie facetiously.

Celestia blinked her eyes clear again and huffed. She frowned at her sister. That she didn’t seem to care hurt more than her eyes did. “Okay.” she muttered. “Fine.”

Pinkie and Luna both recoiled from another flash, Luna’s volley reactively firing off to fizzle out somewhere in the sky. When they noticed the empty space where she’d been in her little bubble, they met in the middle to pit their backs against each other. Looking this way and that, Luna said: “Careful. She could be anywhere.”

“Oui-oui, mon capitan.” said Pinkie, fidgeting in place as she searched.

Luna pursed her lip and glanced back at her. “I didn’t know you were bilingual.”

Pinkie shook her head at her. “Nah, sorry, I only like girls I’m afraid.”

Ears perking in surprise, she said with some consternation: “That is far and away not wh—”

“I command thee, yield!” shouted Celestia above them. From on high, the stars twinkled and glimmered more and more brightly.

Then, they realized those weren’t the stars at all. The ruddy sky burned with yellow flame, a burning rain of magic missiles sailing toward them. Luna conjured the shield again as they were assailed. It clattered like a roof in a hailstorm, buckling and crackling and sparking like it might fizzle out under the pressure.

“Do you trust me say yes please.” asked(?) Pinkie, latching onto Luna as she redoubled her shielding efforts.

“What does—” began Luna.

“Say yes say you trust me quick.”

The first webbing crack appeared in the aura Luna was projecting. Then another. Her shield would never last through this onslaught. “Yes,” she finally grunted, “I trust you.”

Pinkie latched onto her and pulled. A familiar stretching sensation tickled Luna’s mind as her body sank away, the two of them disappearing into the shadows her eclipse provided. It was like swimming, in a way, but with all the weight of your body somehow gone. She’d often wondered, once upon a time, if her mind could become completely lost like this, body never to resurface. It was odd how many magics she toyed with that might be able to do that to her.

For now, that mind was racing along, paying no mind to the errant sprays of snow as the barrage went on and on and on. As Pinkie dragged them along, their thoughts were layered right atop one another’s. They couldn’t help hearing them. It took a moment for them to figure it out and stop mentally muttering over one another. But once they’d gotten to a safe distance, a new plan was concocted.

Panting, Celestia descended to the ruined ground, dust and frost all flitting around her. Her hooves met the ground and she nearly sank to her knees. Glancing one way, and then the other, she found no sign of either of them. So she went to sleep, only for a quick moment—long enough to cast Twilight’s dream spell for tracking nightmares, and have it point the way for her. She then woke up and shook herself out.

“I’m sorry I lost my temper.” she said as she slowly shuffled further up the hill. Her voice echoing back was the only response she got. “Can’t we please talk about this? I just want what’s best for Equestria—really I do. I never wanted any of this.” Again her voice bounced back at her, joined by no others. The wind howled, tossing her mane. She shook her head.

“Luna.” Celestia begged to no avail. She waited. Still no answer. “Please. I’m sorry—I’m so sorry it has to be this way.” On she marched in silence. She began to wonder if she shouldn’t enter the dreams to refocus her direction.

There came a sparking noise behind her, and the queen whirled around to blast it. Her sunbeam destroyed an empty space quite effectively. Pensive, she gawked at the little smoldering crater. And as she began to amble forward once more, something unseen tripped her. She stumbled headlong into the snow.

Luna and Pinkie quickly rose above her. Desperately, Celestia aimed a sunbeam at the first one she could see. And then, absolutely nothing happened. The queen stole a glance at her horn—how it refused to glow—then noticed in those fleeting moments that the stones at Luna’s throat were aglow. The Element of Magic was denying Celestia hers.

She tried to roll up and thrash against them. Her flailing hooves kicked Luna a couple times, but Pinkie held her back before she could land more squarely. She reached over her shoulder and tossed Pinkie to the ground beside where she knelt, leaping to try and crash down on her, but Luna threw herself shoulder first into her, bowling her back over.

Celestia kicked, trying to sit up and buy space, but Luna avoided the attempt, planting hooves upon her shoulders to try and push her back down. She grabbed her sister’s hooves and rolled back, letting her greater mass pull her along. Up and over her own shoulders she rolled, landing on top of the grapple with snarling fury.

“I’m still the big sister.” she cried in anguish as she slammed her struggling sister back down hard. “I’ll always be bigger and stronger—I need to be to protect you—just please let me help.”

Pinkie rolled her wings, desperate for anything she had left. Her hooves reached out for several passing, flipping, and rolling handles. When they were finally able to latch onto one, she jumped at Celestia with the instrument arcing over their heads. Celestia noticed mere seconds before impact. She tried to recoil, but it was already too late.

Wuh-klank!

Celestia bounced up and swayed, dizzy but desperate to stay standing. She wouldn’t pass out—she couldn’t. But then the world turned sideways, blurry, and it all grew dark. She tried to shake it off, tried to push up, but found her head right back in the slush. The queen was unconscious. And in the unreachable distance of the horizon, the snaking tendrils of solar fire ceased their stretching beyond the eclipse. The light faded from the world, the evening-like skies growing darker. The stars twinkled their sleepy eyes down, a thousand distant watchers upon the shameful scene below.

Pinkie’s gaze quickly fell upon the metal baseball bat now bent woefully out of shape, its angle marked by a dent about the exact shape of Celestia’s brow. She bit her lip as it trembled in her grip. Quietly, she muttered: “Oh. I want to make a homerun joke so bad. But I really shouldn’t.”

Luna pushed herself up and gaped dumbstruck at her sister for a looooong moment. The image of her passed out on the ground like that shook her to her core. Partially, that such a sight was even possible was a great shock. Solemn, she reached deep within her and put the moon back in its place. Some small part of her wished she was still up there with it, and that perhaps this could have been avoided. At least the watchful eyes of the stars were gone back to sleep.

A pink hoof entered her field of view. Luna took it. Once stood upon her hooves, though, it wasn’t enough. She pulled back and wrapped herself tightly around Pinkie. “Stars above. Why did we have to do that? Why couldn’t she just listen to me?”

Pinkie rubbed Luna’s back, her own warming a touch as the moon sank back into its proper place. Gone for now until it was time for night to come anew. “I… don’t know. I’m real sorry I ruined things between you and your sister. Again.”

“It’s okay.” Luna held her just a little tighter. She wasn’t quite ready to let go. “Well. Rather, it isn’t okay, exactly, but it’s not your fault.”

Pinkie found that strangely difficult to believe. Resting her chin on Luna’s shoulder, she looked down again at what she’d done. Red ran across white, from coat to snow, as the queen’s still gritted teeth huffed out ragged breaths. Pinkie felt sick to her stomach. Which was strange. She’d imagined it would feel quite good, actually. The way she’d been talking to Luna, Pinkie had wanted nothing more than to take her down a peg. “This… isn’t fun anymore. I’m so sorry I wasn’t strong-willed enough to not get possessed in the first place.”

There it was. It was time to go. Luna pried Pinkie from where she clung to her. Looking her in the eyes, she said: “Then honor our agreement. Give this Nightmare back to me and be free.”

Pinkie pushed the mask back and looked up at her with sad, sad eyes. “I don’t know how.”

“Just say the words.” said Luna. She reached up and brushed curling magenta locks behind Pinkie’s ear. “As you did for me, I offer you my help. Say that you want it, and it’s yours.”

Pinkie hesitated. She fell back a step. “But what about you? I can’t let you be Nightmare Moon again.”

Luna closed the gap. “I promise you I’ll be fine. And I haven’t broken an oath to your witness yet, have I?”

“N-no, I guess not.” Pinkie tapped her chin, pondering.

“Then let me worry about what comes next.” Luna offered her hoof.

It took a long time of Pinkie considering it before she nodded slowly, and finally placed hers upon it. “Okay. Then… I want your help.”

“Thank you.” said Luna with a warm smile, her horn already aglow.

Then, the two of them fell asleep. And where they were laid out in the snow, snoozing all too peacefully after what they’d been through, their hooves brushed past one another as they softly muttered through the dreams. But would the dreams be sweet at last?

---

When Luna rose, she found herself back in the garden. Only, it was the garden from her distant memories. A starry blanket of night sky cozily wrapped overhead, sparkling like a geode of obsidian. The moon itself was massive where it hung motionless, perfectly center above it all. Looking around, she found the flowers alive and well once more, their seemingly ambient petals vibrant in the dulcet glow of moonlight.

As she brushed past them, feeling their delicate bodies bob and sway under her passing hoof, she mused aloud: “A surprisingly pleasant memory, this. Though the stars and moon were never so bright as such. Funny how even Nightmares can be capable of pleasant little lies.”

Not that Luna could blame the thing. She too was apparently quite the accomplished liar. But of course, she regretted lying. And moreso, she hated being any good at it. Moving right along, she figured she had best get this over with before a certain someone woke up from her forced nap and tried to intervene again.

At the garden’s center, she saw not the plinth, nor the marble depictions of her parents as the oh so magnanimous king and queen. In its place, there was a cascading fountain gushing forth a familiar ichor of inky dark. Therein lied her goal. But lying across a stone bench in between her and the fountain was none other than Pinkie Pie. Her hair was frizzed up and a right curly mess. Luna couldn’t help smiling, because it was really her.

Now, then, she just had to find a way to get around her and to the fountain.

Pinkie’s ear flickered at the sound of hooves rustling the floral scenery. She gazed over her shoulder where she lounged, and gave Luna a huge smile. “Hello, stranger.”

Luna winced, pausing in her tracks. “And hello to you. It’s… so good to see you again.”

Pinkie threw her hooves up and hopped over the back of the bench and made her way over. She didn’t care it hadn’t been so long since they’d last hugged. Her hooves brought Luna into her embrace anyway, wrapping tightly above and around her shoulders. “I… can’t wait for this to finally be over, haha…”

She felt Pinkie tremble in her hold, and Luna’s ears folded back. “Oh, Pinkie…” Patting her back, she tried to assuage: “It’s quite alright. We’ll finally get through this. Together.”

As she nodded, chin scraping Luna’s shoulder, Pinkie couldn’t help feeling at her sides. Though she couldn’t see them in the dream, she knew the stitches would leave nasty scars. “I’m so sorry for everything I did to you. I-I can’t believe how much I hurt you.”

The thought occurred to Luna to tell her she’d been hurt worse; that she had survived deadlier things than what she’d done to her. Somehow, this didn’t seem like something that would comfort her. “It’s alr—well, rather, you weren’t yourself, dear. I’m not upset with you.” She took a deep breath and let it go. “I’m going to fix this. It will all be alright.”

Letting her go at last, Pinkie wiped her eyes. “O-okay. What’s the plan?”

“To imbibe of darkness itself.” explained Luna as she slowly made her way over to the fountain. “A symbolic gesture in a land of symbols.” She couldn’t help noticing Pinkie kept pace with her, even as the shorter mare hiccupped. This wouldn’t do. “Ahem, though, the first time, it was a small pond. The, erm, fountain is new.”

Pinkie stopped beside her and the two of them stood before the fountain at last. They observed the liquid gushing into the cascading stone bowls of increasing size. It was absent color or light reflection, a shadow flowing like water. With the gentle babbling, it was almost a peaceful retreat. “So.” said Pinkie, gazing at it with streaked eyes. “I… guess this is it?”

“It would seem that it is.” droned Luna, side-eyeing her. The last thing she needed was for her to interfere. So she leaned over and took Pinkie’s chin. “Won’t you kiss me one last time? As goodbye?”

Pinkie blinked slowly up at her. A few new tears formed and rolled away as she reached up and held that hoof against her flushing cheek. “Does it have to be?”

Luna’s mouth went tight. “Only for now.”

Her eyes closed. She didn’t want to let Luna go. But hadn’t she already accepted her help? Even if it meant this? Finally, Pinkie nodded, and leaned in.

Luna leaned her head to one side and her eyes fluttered shut as well as their lips met in the middle. It was soft. It was delicate. It was warm. It was like lying amid the flowers on a summer’s eve. Heart aflutter, she knew she didn’t want to part. But part they did, locked eyes yet lingering. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” she replied. Then Luna’s hoof was taken out of hers. Her own fell away weakly as she sank to her wobbling knees. Looking on, all she could do was watch as Luna took one step toward the fountain, and then another.

Luna made her way to the fountain’s edge and briefly considered her odd reflection in the rippling shadow. It was as though a rough visage of Nightmare Moon was staring back at her from beyond the breach. As she threw her hair back to avoid it getting wet—not that she was even sure it could do that, but instinct was hard to fight—she lowered her head to drink and patiently thought: Just as planned for once.

Then she was yanked back by her tail.

Looking over her shoulder, Luna found Pinkie looking at her with wide, uncertain eyes, as though she herself wasn’t sure what she was doing. Either way, she asked: “Pinkie? What do you think you’re doing?”

Pinkie hesitated for entirely too long for either of their liking. “Um,” she droned, a prolonged moment of consternation, “I think I changed my mind?”

“And why would you do th—”

“Obviously because I don’t want you to turn back into Nightmare Moon—I don’t want to lose you forever, not before I get the chance to make it all up to you.” Pinkie covered her mouth, surprised by her own outburst.

Luna thought back to the waking world. Celestia was one of the toughest mares she’d ever known. She wouldn’t be out in the cold for too terribly long. “Well… you won’t lose me forever. So if you’ll just let go, I—”

“How can you say it, just like that? How do you know you won’t enjoy being evil again? I kinda did, and I never had any dark thoughts like yours.” She grimaced and added: “N-no offense.”

“Because I finally have people in my life worth fighting for again. It’s bolstered my willpower. So let me help you.” She tried again to get to the fountain.

Pinkie pushed in front of her, causing her to step back from the fountain’s edge. “But that’s what your sister just got done saying, isn’t it? That she knows better—that she’s just going to help. And she was wrong, wasn’t she?”

Luna bristled up a touch. She looked past her at the waiting goal. “This is far and away different. A-and you’ve already said you’d accept my help in this.”

“But you accepted my help first.” insisted Pinkie, leaning her head toward the rippling shadow. “I think I’m getting the hang of this, actually—I didn’t even think about stabbing you in that last hug, so, m-maybe I can handle this for you instead.”

Ironclad was the grip on Pinkie’s shoulder that brought her lurching away from the promises they were making to one another. “Listen to me, Pinkie. I’ve done this before, and longer than you. I have the willpower and restraint for it, moreso than you.”

Sneering slightly, Pinkie bat away one of the hooves from her shoulders. “So I’m not as strong as you? What happened to having gained newfound respect for me, to taking me seriously like I wanted?”

“I…” Luna held her tongue a moment yet. Stealing a look up, around, behind, then back again, she searched for any sign they were being watched; and more importantly, listened to. Then she leaned in with a hush and whispered conspiratorially: “It’s a fraction of my Nightmare—far weaker of will. It’s how you were able to push against its desires as much as you did. And I mean not to suggest myself better than you, but I certainly have more experience. Trust me when I say I can handle this without fully becoming Nightmare Moon once again.”

Pinkie watched her look about again, as if expecting the entire dream to crumble around them because she’d just said that out loud. Blinking, nonplussed, she asked: “So that’s it? That’s your plan? Hope this version is weaker than you so you can hold yourself back?”

“Yes?” uttered Luna in a somewhat offended tone. “We can’t eradicate it while it has someone, and you’ve seen firsthand how difficult it can be to shed the shadow.”

“Well, it’s a goofy plan.” said Pinkie, crossing her hooves. “Hardly solid at all.”

“I—mmf.” squeaked Luna as Pinkie reached up to cover her mouth. She narrowed her eyes.

“But it gives me a better idea.” Nodding back at the fountain, she asked: “What if we both drank? At the same time?”

When Luna got her speaking privileges returned, she simply gaped a moment with furrowed brows. “Wwwwwhat?”

“I’m serious.” said the least serious pony Luna had ever met. “If I was almost strong enough to overcome her worst, darkest desires, then between the two of us, it should a piece of cake.” She couldn’t help but smirk and add: “Though I tend to prefer pies. Not that I’m biased.”

A sound coughed up from Luna, almost mimicking the beginnings of a word. The next attempt caught in her throat as well. “This is… what you’re suggesting is unheard of—it’s absurd.”

Pinkie simply shrugged. “I’m a pretty absurd mare. But isn’t that what you like about me?”

“It is, but—rather, that’s not…” Luna shook herself out of it. “If the deal is compromised, don’t you think she’ll rebuke? It’s not how she wants this to end.”

Reaching up, Pinkie cupped Luna’s cheeks and pecked her quickly again. “You said to me over and over again that this isn’t her story, it’s ours. That we get to decide how it ends.” She pulled her down to get her a bit more at eye level. “I don’t have to just help you, and you don’t have to just help me, but we can be glad to help each other. Now hold my hoof, drink this shadow gunk with me, and let’s share weird nightmare powers. Because why not? It makes just as much sense as everything else about this kooky situation!”

Luna gulped. She did say that, didn’t she? Slowly nodding, she said: “I suppose I could give that a try. As long as it’s you.”

There it was. That sunny grin stretching ear to ear seemingly lit up the entire rest of the garden. Hooves joining, Pinkie beamed up at her as the two of them approached the stone lip of the cascading shadow fountain. Their rippling reflections looked so strange.

And Luna? Well. Luna despised lying. She especially hated being any good at it. So in the moments before she readied herself to shoulder check Pinkie, getting her out of the way so that she could accept this burden for her alone… she…

Luna adjusted her footing. This was it. She just had to throw her greater weight, and Pinkie would be moved aside with ease. Then she could… she could…

Looking down, Pinkie beamed so warmly up at her as she asked: “Ready?”

“Ready.” repeated Luna with a nod. Again she thought about going through with it. Again she thought about sparing her any of this, wishing she could have from them very start. As she hesitated, her friends’ words found her again.

A burden shared is a burden lightened. We should be real with each other and have each other’s backs; that’s what friends are for. Anything you need from us, any day of the week. Our lives are so much fuller and brighter with you in it so please… please come back to us.

As to Luna herself, she hated lying. So maybe this time, it didn’t have to be a lie. Maybe this time, she really could do right by her friends, on their terms and not simply her own. After all, wasn’t that what frustrated them? That she had claimed to want to be better for them, all while keeping them in the dark?

When Pinkie dipped her head, so too did Luna. They lapped at the darkness. It tasted like water. It was, of course, simply a symbolic gesture in the restful land of symbols. And it was a water fountain. What else would she expect it to taste like?

---

When Luna rose once more, her head ached so harshly, she imagined she’d been the one bludgeoned over the head. It was though her mind were fuller, and pressed tightly against her confining skull. If nothing else, certain distant memories—including a few she would have preferred stay forgotten—were now much clearer. Wryly, she mused: “Good to have you ba—ack!”

“Luna!” screamed Pinkie with glee as she threw herself at her. The two of them went tumbling through the snow. How she laughed and laughed.

“Pinkie? Is it you?” Luna sat up and assessed the funny mare. Her mane was all friz and curling locks. The mask had changed back into a necklace. Her smile and nod affirmed, and Luna felt like sobbing. “It’s over. It’s finally over.”

“Uh huh, and look, I even got to keep the wings just like I wanted.” Standing, Pinkie spread them wide to show them off. “Ah ha, this is so exciting! We’re Nightmare pals now, and Elements, and girlfriends, we can have the most weird and wonderful magical dates and—oh, crud, wait.” She let herself sink out of the air she’d leapt into for joy. There was an empty divet in the snow, with a trail leading away.

Luna shared a concerned look with her. “Right. We should… probably go talk to her, at least.”

Mouth tight, Pinkie fiddled with her hooves. “Yeah. If she’ll accept us.”

They pushed onto their hooves and trudged after the trail. At its end, they found a slumping, battered queen sat upon the edge of a steep decline, staring idly across the land stretching far away beneath. Clouds trawled by on the post dawn horizon, fading from funner colors to bog standard white.

Celestia startled somewhat when she finally heard the snow crunching beneath their hooves. She stayed that way, apprehensive yet. It was those eyes; Luna’s eyes had taken on an almost draconic visage to them. She otherwise seemed to be her sister, sorrowful and lamenting, despite those familiar, daunting eyes—the eyes of something that once resembled her sister and nearly spelled doom of everything the two of them had built.

Yet… they lacked that old look of hate she recalled, painfully clearly in distant memories of declarations of ruin. So Celestia’s shoulders sank right back down into place, slack as they were sore. She took a deep breath. “Luna? What exactly did you do?”

Luna gulped, realizing how odd this was about to sound. “I had thought to take on the shadow, thinking perhaps, if it’s but a piece, I might be able to keep it from controlling me. But, well…” She looked to Pinkie, who couldn’t help glancing at the new wings before nodding. “My friends keep insisting I not carry my burdens alone. So here we now are.”

“And this has worked? No other voice is overriding your own?” Perhaps she could not so much help grimace, given the state she was in. Hardly did she mean to be rude.

“I feel more or less like my old funny self again.” said Pinkie hugging herself. When she noticed her hooves and wings were both wrapping around her shoulders, she chuckled somewhat nervously. “Uh, definitely way more than not.”

Drawing a long breath, Luna closed her eyes and tried to feel all around the space behind them. “That familiar other voice is here, but it’s so much quieter. And… in fact, it’s… happier?”

Pinkie rested a hoof on her shoulder. “Yeah, like… it’s like the loneliness is gone? We’re good now. Or, well, better I guess.”

Celestia looked at one, then the other. Shame writ upon her face, she nodded once, heavy as the motion was pathetic. Slowly, she told them: “It… would appear I owe you quite the apology. Both of you.”

Luna couldn’t help feeling at her pulled stitches. But then she looked at Pinkie, then back at Celestia’s bruises and scratches. One of those purple eyes was half shut from a swollen eyelid. She wondered what point it was she’d caught her there with one of her kicks. With a heavy gulp, she said: “I think we’re all owed one here. Even you.”

Feeling at the swelling around the cracked skin of her brow, Celestia frowned. “No, I… I think I brought this one on myself.”

“Still.” stammered Pinkie, gripping her foreleg. “I’m really super sorry I did that, your grace. I’ll, er, make another apology card. A much bigger, fancier one this time.”

Her mouth was still. But as she imagined one with glitter glued to every inch of the inside, Celestia couldn’t help cracking a weak smirk. “I appreciate the thought.” Weak as the smile was, it was not long for this world, however. It faded like snow to her touch. Especially when she was mad. “But I… I nearly resigned you to a fate you could be saved from.”

“But, like…” Pinkie chewed on her lip. “You didn’t know I could be saved.”

“It was, rather admittedly, quite the leap of faith I was asking you for.” Luna cleared her throat. “To be perfectly fair.”

“One I should have granted you. You know of Nightmares far better than I, and…” Celestia’s frown deepened. “And you’re my sister. The only family I’ve left of those awful days we shared, I… Ahem. Look, I don’t expect forgiveness from either of you, simply because you regret wounding me. I was rash, and clinging to my duties rather than sense. I brought this about, so I don’t need your apologies.”

Luna watched her sister’s wistful gaze veer back for the landscape beyond, glowing golden in the rising sun. She found herself approaching. But she hesitated there, even as she wondered what exactly it was she was doing. Right as Celestia glanced, and perhaps thought to ask this herself, Luna gave into the instincts and hugged her.

“Oh.” croaked Celestia. Her own hooves went around Luna’s shoulders as she tried to breathe. The air shook through her and her vision went blurry. A single hiccup escaped and it was over. The tears were streaming, a fresh fall of rain to wash away the blood streaked snow. “I hardly think,” she sniffled, “that I deserve this.”

“Maybe you don’t.” agreed Luna quietly. “And… I suppose you weren’t wrong, about the needs and safety of the many. But you were wrong about her. And you were wrong about me.”

“I’m so sorry.” begged Celestia.

“I just need you to respect me, sister. And trust that I can handle things.” She shook her head. “But look, I’ve been terrible about this myself. I haven’t trusted that my friends could handle this magic guardian arrangement—that they wouldn’t understand the sort of mess I’ve caused. It almost cost me their friendship. I have been such a fool about this from the start. Moreso than you by half, so… don’t feel too bad, I suppose.”

Pinkie had let them be at first. Somehow, she felt it might be somewhat inappropriate of her to join this particular hug. Especially since she’d knocked one of the participants out with a bat. But that last bit drove her mad.

Luna lurched slightly as Pinkie threw into the hug behind her, whining: “Stop blaming yourself for everything already. I wouldn’t have gotten possessed if I hadn’t driven you away and gotten myself so down in the dumps. That was me, it was my fault, so… quit it!”

She couldn’t help wincing because the squeezing hurt her sides. But Luna found she didn’t care, and chuckled as two ponies clung to either side of her, sobbing across either shoulder. “Well,” she coughed, “I suppose we all have something to learn about respecting others. A-about taking them seriously…”

Still crying her eyes out, Celestia peered around Luna and tapped Pinkie’s nearest hoof. “I-I just want you to know there’s no hard feelings if I get a concussion.”

“Aw,” blubbered Pinkie, taking hold of that offered hoof, “and same for me if I have any cracked ribs.”

“You two, hic, are more than welcome to have holiday dinners at the castle.” Celestia blinked her eyes a little clearer. “Cadance for one would love that, a-and the other girls too, I’m sure.”

“That’s really sweet.” Pinkie’s quivering lips pulled into a smile. “But I was hoping Luna would meet my parents this Hearth’s Warming.”

Luna’s gaze snapped around at her and she regretted it instantly. Letting go of Celestia to hold her side, she asked: “Ahem, are we truly at the meeting family stage?”

“Why not?” asked Pinkie, running the back of her wing’s claw to streak the tears across her face. “I’ve met all of yours, even if under weird circumstance.”

“I think it’s sweet!” agreed Celestia. “Have you two given any thought to marriage, or children?”

Luna’s head whirled back around, and she winced again. Holding onto her sides, she said: “I need you two to stop saying embarrassing things now. It’s killing me faster than the actual fight.”

Pinkie giggled. When she noticed Celestia’s guffaw, she waved it off. “Anyway, it’s way too soon for all that. I figured we’d fool around for a year or two before getting too serious.”

“None of this has been all that serious to you?” asked Celestia churlishly.

“I did say I wasn’t that serious a mare, didn’t I?” Pinkie practically beamed when Celestia giggled.

“Oh,” droned Luna, mortified, “my goodness. I think I liked it better when you two were at each other’s throats.”

“Shh.” cooed Pinkie, rubbing her shoulder lovingly. “This is allllllll part of the healing process. Now then,” she said, turning back to Celestia, “I just know you have to have some great stories from when Luna was just a widdle filly.”

“Oh, honey, do I ever?” Celestia’s smile was bright and joyous despite the busted lip.

Luna looked on, chagrined, wondering how exactly she’d gotten here. Perhaps it wasn’t too late to shove the two of them over the ledge. But no, that wouldn’t work; they both could fly. With a sigh, she resigned herself to fate, laying herself back in a far more relaxed manner while they spoke and laughed. It was perhaps at her expense to a degree, but their words were still full of a love she couldn’t deny. She likewise couldn’t lie to herself.

A smile ran across her face. She was more at ease than she’d been since her return to Equestria. And at last, she held some confidence in her heart that it might actually stay this way this time. For the first time all season, she looked forward to tomorrow.

Author's Note:

Okay time's up, let's check those bets.

We'll probably get a short chapter to wrap up the main story proper. But after that, I want to do a short series of little blurb epilogues tying up other loose ends for fun.

Comments

[Carbon]

Nice action here!

[Saturni_Rose]

11288195
I’m really pleased you think so. To let you guys in on a secret since we’re nearing the end, the fights and action scenes always make me the most nervous. Writing them feels oddly very tedious to me so I end up worrying that they’ll be a boring chore to read. I’m very glad for the comments I’ve gotten that suggest they aren’t.

[Witchery]

Celestia and Pinkie? Poor Luna.