Mane Brushing in the Morning
The sleek white walls of the chamber the two princesses occupied glowed warmly in the morning sunlight. The weeks after the Summer Sun Celebration had been relatively quiet; this morning particularly so.
Celestia, mane shimmering, hummed a common tune under her breath and she had yet to dawn regalia. She sat on a large cushion that was colored deep purple and was one of the most colorful things in the room beside her and her sister, who also rested upon the velvety surface. Her simple, plain tune hung in the broken silence of the pale room long after she had hummed each note.
At her forehooves, a smaller shape stirred. Lying prone in her older sister's shadow was Luna, a slightly bothered look on her face. There was also a distant, contemplative look in Luna's eyes that had been there long before she had been sealed in the moon. From time to time, her expression would shift to something that looked to be a subtle flicker of apprehension, if anypony were to actually notice it. She would hold this look briefly, and skillfully give her sister an indirect glance, staring at her big sister's serene smile and warm but oblivious gaze. It was as though the elder goddess puzzled her, or she expected that kind look to fall away.
It never did, but Luna would still stare at it from time to time. She would think about the smile long after her gaze dropped back to her forehooves. Whatever mood from her sister Luna had anticipated instead went unvoiced. The relative silence only became heavier because of that nervousness that clung to Luna.
Luna's ears flicked, mostly so that she would be able to hear the humming of Celestia's; the tunes went unrecognized by here, but that was no surprise. There was a millennium of music she still had to uncover.
Her ears also flicked because it was an instinct for this ritual, to know what was said behind corners or when somepony was preparing for an unexpected approach. Their relationship had hammered a vigilance into Luna that kept her lithe muscles ready to leave the room at a moment's notice, without the aid of her magic. She was long beyond the age of squirming as Celestia brushed her mane, her then-little blue form sitting right in front of her—
Luna stopped her roaming thoughts and just let Celestia run the brush through her cornflower colored mane. When the Elements of Harmony had touched her, it had been restored to a length that was shorter than how she usually grew it, and wholly reminiscent of her fillyhood, before Luna's Alicorn divinity had flowed forth as she matured. She had never hated that particular shade of blue but yearned for her fast-growing mane to be longer once more, and for her magic to hurry on the path of restoration at least a little bit. To see herself whole instead of pale would give her heart the reassurance of being able to totally recognize herself in her own mirror once again.
Regardless of the charm her mane currently had, Luna wanted to feel her divinity healed completely — and see the results.
But this — the simple ritual of Celestia wordlessly summoning Luna so she could brush her mane — was something that had ceased centuries before she found herself donning the helm that landed her a place among the stars...
She was also far too old for her elder sister to be brushing her mane like this. It had always been something she liked doing on her own, and the touch of others — be it by family or her subjects — was not something that Luna had ever known as comforting. But Luna let Celestia do so because she knew Celestia was lonely — not because she said so, but because Celestia both didn't and wouldn't. And also because Luna was surprised, of course. This was something a good sister would do.
But good sisters also didn't get sealed in celestial bodies. Luna squirmed just a little and decided to think about that again, just so long as it was later.
"What do you think would be a good breakfast, Luna?"
Luna paused at the sound of Celestia's voice, going as still and cold as an icicle. The brush kept running through her mane.
"Toast," Luna said quietly.
"Toast?" It was hard to tell if Celestia's tone was teasing or she was expecting more. Maybe she was displeased...
Luna swallowed a little. "Yes, sister, just toast with marmalade."
"You don't want any more pancakes?"
They had spent the first week eating nothing but pancakes for breakfast — even though neither of them needed to eat at all, being goddesses and beyond the requirements that sustained mortal creatures. They topped them with anything and everything that they could find. Celestia had laughed so much — and she had even smiled too. Most of the time she had even been smiling at Luna, and that was the most uncanny part of all.
Sometimes, Luna had even laughed, and what a surprise that had been. Sure, it wasn't the mirthful and joyous sound that she hadn't made in over a thousand years, but it was something. So many foal steps with this cautious new happiness would surely lead somewhere.
"No more pancakes," Luna said. "We do not think that We will be ready for eating them again until some time has passed."
They didn't have pancakes one thousand years ago. Or cream that came in cans that made hissing noises. Coffee mugs — especially ones adorned with smiling suns — hadn't exactly existed in their current form either. Celestia's love of vases and cutlery had now expanded to include that new form of modern kitsch, and she had a whole hall to display her mugs.
Luna hated coffee too, but Celestia still drank it by the gallon each dawn. And she really didn't feel like she could refuse the mug Celestia gave her — it was decidedly a very mysterious object. Mostly because Luna had not known what a flamingo was, and had to fetch an encyclopedia, which only confused her further. She had not been able to fathom why such a creature would need special glasses to block out sunlight. But she grew to like her sister's gift. Not nearly as much as she liked the city of Canterlot and the stunning castle she found herself in — both had been built in her absence from the dumpy stone city of dim alleys and mines known as Canterlote.
The gift meant something, and that was all that mattered to Luna.
"Do you have any plans for today, Luna?"
It was strange, too, for her to get used to Celestia asking things like this so lightly. Or at all. The subject of these seemingly simple questions used to come in the form of orders and criticism of behaviors deemed too eccentric or sullen, among other things. Now, there was no effort to trap Luna in a verbal bout of fencing where she always had to defend herself from another's words. She could just answer happily, claiming an autonomy that had not been there in the past.
"We were going to continue with our studies of the things We had missed — so many great dramas have been written since the Longest Night."
She had hoped that Celestia might notice her usage of the name that all those who watched the skies gave to that fateful night. It was a less painful term to use on such a nice morning too. Instead, she simply felt Celestia's magic move the brush more. Her mane hadn't even been tangled.
"Anything else?" There was a trace of the expectant tone burnt into Luna's memory. If only she knew what it was she was expected to do. The sister she knew in the past would not hesitate to outline such a routine.
"We were planning for a solitary stroll in the gardens and to practice sketching some flowers. We wish to make such a merry craft into a hobby — and maybe even something We are skilled in with time and practice."
As the silence between them grew, Luna wondered if there was something that she should add. It couldn't be the use of the majestic plural — since foalhood, they had both been taught to use it, no matter how broken their speech might have sounded at such a young age. She'd been speaking in the familiar pattern since her return, so why would Celestia disapprove of it now?
"Is there anything else you wish to do?" Celestia's voice had lost some of its calm, but upbeat tone. Luna still felt her sister keep the brush steadily running through her mane.
"Maybe. We were hoping to begin stocking Our own personal armory. 'Tis been too long since We have had one."
"But Luna—"
Luna blinked at the sudden pleading tone of Celestia. "Yes, sister?"
"Isn't there anypony that you want to see?" She had stopped brushing. Was that a bad sign? Should Luna have said something else, or nothing at all?
"There are none are at all. Unless you wish to join Us?" She knew that the answer was likely to be a no. Since Luna's return, Celestia had only been relieved of so much work while Luna began to delve into the knowledge of Celestia's present and her own future more and more.
"No friends? And no, Luna, I am afraid I cannot join you."
Luna heard herself laugh a little, that at least, she had been expecting to hear. "Of course not! Since when have We ever had a friend? We are quite content — no, more than content — with Our own company. But, you are always welcome to join Us, sister."
"But Luna—" Celestia repeated, this time with more urgency.
"Yes?" Perhaps now Luna should dig up her vintage feelings of worry. An impatient Celestia was not the kind of mare to be trifled with.
"Don't you want to talk to somepony about anything? Or see how anypony is doing? Nopony is going to give you any trouble for being different anymore."
"Of this, We are aware. Sister, why does it bother you so? Is there something wrong?"
Luna heard the unmistakable sound of Celestia sighing sadly. "Don't you want to make any friends? It isn't hard, Luna, but if you feel that it is too difficult to talk to ponies, I could lend you some of Twilight's letters. She's made so much progress since moving to Ponyville and meeting her friends. I'm sure her example could help you. Would you like that?"
"Your offer is kind but unnecessary. Thank you, Tia. We have more important things to attend to and no desire to socialize unprofessionally with any of Our subjects or exchange any unneeded words in social endeavors. Maybe once We have caught up more and Our magic is as it should be, then We could appear at one of the silly dances that you mentioned?"
For Luna, calling a dance or ball held so publicly 'silly' was not the least bit strange. She had never found herself amused at such events unless she made her own solitary entertainment, but the nickname — Tia — that had just barely become accustomed to using again still felt rather foreign to Luna.
"The Grand Galloping Gala?"
"Yes, that is the one. We would not mind lingering in the gardens or giving a short tour of it if pleased Us to go, once the time arrives."
Luna imagined Celestia frowning when she spoke next.
"But you have no desire to make a single friend?"
Luna shrugged. "No, there is no need for Us to keep such company. Are you sure there is nothing wrong, Tia? You sound worried."
"Aren't you going to be lonely?"
"When alone, We can be nothing but pleased. But to be around ponies so much? The both of us know how misery supposedly 'loves' company, but for Us, sister, such company would be misery. To cling to ponies We would not desire to earnestly be around is also cruel. Do you need any planning for your gala? Is that what has you bothered? We would not mind picking out decorations or locating fine musicians and other performers for the celebration."
"No, Luna, it's not that," Celestia said, and she continued to run the brush through Luna's mane in a silence that the younger mare couldn't help but enjoy.