1
Luna watched the sunrise from the castle's rooftop garden. The morning air was cool and refreshing on her skin, tinged with the sharpness of wet leaves. She felt out of place in such serene environs: her hoofsteps were jumpy and unsure, and her bedraggled mane spoke of sleepless days and haunted nights.
A week had passed since the disaster that had been Nightmare Night and Luna couldn't find the motivation to leave her wing of the castle, much less act as the sovereign co-ruler of a nation that seemed to be constantly under the attack of mythical and malicious things.
As she pondered, the first sliver of light had peeked out from the distant horizon. Luna couldn’t conceal a breathy, relaxed sigh at the sun’s pure beauty. It was light and hope. Equestria was created under the sun and lived beneath its warm, loving rays.
And what was the moon? A mere reflection? No more of than an imposter and an eyesore, ignored as it hung sullenly and silently in the dark night sky.
There was a tinge of envy in her thoughts, but she vastly preferred it to the other troublesome emotions that stirred in the vestiges of her mind. Desires she could not control. Better to stick with the feelings she was uncomfortable with, rather than the ones that made her retch.
Luna tried to banish the thoughts, trying to focus on the plain, simple beauty of her surroundings. Clear your mind. I should do this more often, she decided. It was oddly energizing, despite the weariness that hung in her bones and clouded her mind.
She idly picked at the cracked cobblestones beneath her, mind beginning to wander as the sun began its slow, graceful arc upwards.
“Luna, are you out here?”
Luna gave a surprised yelp as she was jolted from her daydream. Her thoughts immediately vanished from her mind, replaced by an uncomfortable void. Her mouth fumbled around her words.
She had always felt uncouth and awkward around the eloquent Celestia, and could only mumble out a quick greeting as she ducked her face to the ground, her dark blue mane falling over her burning cheeks.
She felt a warm presence beside her and instinctively shied away, blinking her eyes and blushing furiously.
“Is something the matter, dear Luna? I noticed your missed your meal today and brought something up for you.” Celestia’s voice was soft and sweet and had a musical lilt that filled Luna’s heart with longing. There was a clatter of silverware as she set a steaming tray down between them, gently nudging the meal toward her.
“We ar- I am doing quite fine,” she hastily corrected herself, mind fumbling over the millennia of language changes that had passed in her absence. She hastened a quick, fleeting glance through the thick veil of her mane.
Celestia wore her characteristic smile. One of infinite patience and kindness and understanding. Her pastel mane flowed gently in the summer air, lending her a godlike elegance. Her eyes seemed to be simply affixed to the rising sun, as if she still appreciated its natural beauty after many thousands of years of duty.
“I know it’s been a while. I know it will take some time to adjust, dear sister. Please give it a chance. Your presence in Equestria has been sorely missed by everypony, even if they do not express it outright.”
She reached in to nuzzle the smaller alicorn comfortingly, the sensation sending shivers down Luna’s spine. Celestia’s soft, technicolor mane enveloped her, and Luna sucked in her breath, greedily taking in the delicate scent.
Luna had spent many a sleepless day convincing herself these feelings were perfectly natural. In a physical sense, Celestia was a paradigm of beauty- brilliant eyes, resplendent smile, slim and shapely legs, magnificent wings. She commanded attention, respect, and desire.
She was usually aloof, of course. A monarch must retain some semblance of detachment from her subjects. But, when her guard fell, it was magic. The fiery, glistening light in her eyes. Her soft, thin lips pulled into a joyous grin. Head thrown back in a delighted laugh that sounded like tinkling winter bells. It was enough to drive a pony mad.
And many a pony had been driven to great depths in attempting to describe Celestia’s radiant beauty. Luna thought about the worn diary beneath her bed with some guilt, as she had taken to scribing her innermost thoughts shortly after her unplanned lunar departure.
“T-thanks ‘Tia,” mumbled Luna thickly. The nickname felt awkward and foreign on her lips. It had been many centuries since it had last been uttered, and it sounded more gaudy than casual. “We - I think I shall turn in for the day now. It has been...most tiring. Certainly. Yes.” She faked a wide yawn, standing up and maneuvering her way uncouthly, leaving her food untouched.
“Very well, Luna. Please rest.”
-
The blackout curtains that furnished the windows did nothing to ease the agitated alicorn inside. Luna paced incessantly, her hoofsteps muffled by the carpet. The noon sun beat tirelessly overhead, marking the third day of a heatwave that sent ponies on a mass exodus to Equestria’s beaches and parks.
It was hell. Luna’s horn glowed briefly as the cast the umpteenth cooling spell of the day, bathing the room in a cool, azure light that would briefly banish the creeping humidity. Everything in the room seemed to be sticky, moist, uncomfortable.
A platter of wilting food sat on Luna’s dresser, still untouched from earlier. Her stomach growled anxiously. Luna managed to scarf down half a pastry before immediately retching, overcome by a pounding wave of dizziness that sent the alicorn to her knees.
Something had to be done, she decided feebly. Her mind was ill, and her body was quickly following suit. She managed to drag herself onto her sweat-soaked bed, stealing a look at herself in the mirror. Her once brilliant mane hung in limp, ragged strands. Her deep blue eyes were bloodshot, spider webbed with thin, red veins.
To act on her desires would be impossible. They were to be locked, subjugated, banished to the cold netherworld she had spent her last millennia on. It was a love that violated every social convention, every rule, every taboo.
It was a love that would never be returned, she thought caustically. A bitter, unrequited schoolyard crush. Infantile. Weak.
Her mind wandered to Celestia’s eyes again. Her shimmering mane and her porcelain fur and her defined, elegant features.
But irresistible.
She closed her eyes fiercely, blinking away another tear that splashed on the ground. It fell next to a lovingly framed photograph of two alicorns playing in the sun’s light. They were laughing joyfully as they held each other and basked in the glowing rays.