Luna's Fall

by Aeleos

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Nightmare Moon, Princess Luna, Tragedy
Length: 2958

The tragic plunge into darkness of the Princess of the Night.

This is the tale of a demigod following her millennial imprisonment. A tragedy; what are the effects of such solitude?

(Written for a ridiculous competition, ha.)

Published 2012-03-01 12:24:02 UTC
Last updated 2012-03-01 12:24:02 UTC

Chapter 1

A/N: My entry into the “Rejected Fanfic Ideas” competition. I know, right?
I was planning on writing comedy, since most of the prompts are ridiculous and therefore hilarious. But instead, grimdark. Funny how that works.
Anyways, the prompt is “rejected pony fic idea #26: Luna killed Celestia right after the pilot and only took her form”.
Enjoy.
(Also, there are two picture links hidden within this story. Hehe)
Also, just learned that "Luna's Fall" is the name of an alt-rock band. :rainbowlaugh:

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Time. Time is a paradox. They say Time heals all wounds. But Time itself, in its infinite iterations, is the source of our most grievous and immutable wound. Its incessant barrage wears upon us all, until the majority of us die in old age; having endured years of battering.

Some, however, have not the luxury of old age.

The tale of Princess Luna is fraught with misfortune. Her story is woven from passion, hatred, and longing. It is the stuff of nightmares, and nightstallions. It is a tragedy of the ages; a story that will be related hence. This is the chronicle of a demigod's fall.

The first domino had been erected and toppled by none other than the Princess of the Sun. Banishing her kin to Earth’s ethereal satellite set events in motion which would forever change the face of their world. Celestia, however, cannot be held accountable. Even she could not have foretold the consequences of punishing her sister so severely for her transgressions. And she did pay dearly for her actions.

Luna, as well, cannot be blamed for her sins. Many would disagree. But the Princess was a victim of fate. The interminable assailment of Time scarred her just as it had scarred the lunar surface.

During the dark ages of crime and punishment, ponies who underwent solitary confinement succumbed to insanity within a few years. With no one to validate their existence, they became hallucinogenic and enraged.

As an Alicorn, gifted with supernatural strength of mind and body, Luna suffered the effects of madness to a much lesser extent. Yet she suffered: more than any Earthly pony would or could ever know. 1000 years, indubitably, is a long period of Time. Craters on the Moon were evidence of outbursts of magic, which had served as an outlet of her anger, and a substantiation of her actuality.

If bitterness had ever resided in Luna’s heart, it paled in comparison to the cold knot of hatred that festered while on her lunar prison.

Luna had known of her release date since year six: a fact that did not make the remaining 994 years pass any more quickly. It was evident through rows of calculations in moondirt that she had foreseen the stars’ alignment. And she had waited patiently. Reigning over the dark, silent portion of the circadian cycle, Luna knew the arts of silence and introspection, She had become a master of her trade. But reflection can only keep one occupied for so long.

On the eve of the Summer Sun celebration, her sister had hoisted her celestial body high into the air. Luna’s dominion, in turn, had shone brighter than ever before. Cloaked in white light, Luna reclaimed her name as Nightmare Moon: a title she thought would once again strike terror into the hearts of the pathetically weak ponies below her. And as Nightmare Moon she broke from her fetters and descended to Earth.

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Luna repossessed her goal to deliver nighttime eternal unto her world. This time, however, malice was her motive. Ponies, she knew, needed sunlight to stay warm and grow their food. Luna eagerly anticipated observing which--cold or hunger--killed her citizens first.

Nightmare Moon’s first goal was the destruction of the Elements. They had been her sole vulnerability. She knew not nor cared where her sister was. After assessing the situation in Ponyville (the plebeians were rightfully terrified) she had set out across the Everfree to reach the Elements before her sister did. Nightmare Moon laughed as she shattered the Elements in front of the purple idiot. But her laugh was hollow: the destruction of that mare’s hope was transitory, and much too easy. But then…

In a disgustingly ironic stroke of fate, that mare and her five equally despicable friends had transformed. They had become the physical apotheoses of those wretched elements. With a brilliant panchromatic light, powerful magic once again wrought its dominance upon the transcendental mare. Nightmare Moon howled during her transformation back to Luna. Not out of pain: centuries lacking equine contact made self-mutilation a pastime for the demigod; it was the only way she could ever feel. No, Luna howled because the only thing she had ever constructed in 1000 years: her Nightmarish regalia, composed of moondust and malice, had been destroyed.

The blinding white decimated her exterior, but even the most powerful magic known to ponykind could not eviscerate the barricade on her black heart.

Luna was, admittedly, surprised at the turn of events, but not unprepared. 1000 years had allowed Luna to ponder and weigh all outcomes to every situation imaginable; in addition to a few that transcended imagination. Verily, her façade was gone, and with it disappeared Nightmare Moon: the evildoer. But Luna had realized in her infant moments on Earth that sipmly allowing the citizens of Equestria to simply die out would not be entertaining enough for the deprived demigod.

The ponies had bowed to her sister as she approached. Always eclipsed, Luna was. The Moon can’t shine without the Sun.

Luna hated that.

Her sister reveled in her glory. She remembered when ponies used to bow before her. She too desired worship.

A new plan had been hatched as Luna was rendered down to her knees.

Fear is the bane of deceit. Trembling liars are easily recognized. Luckily for Luna, she had had 1000 years to compose herself.

“I’m sorry, sister,” she said. Her sister had eaten up her apology, just as Luna had predicted. A few tears sealed the act.

In town, the citizens adorned her with roses. But all she felt were the thorns.

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Celestia, the dominant Princess, decided that she and her sister would fly back to Canterlot in order to have some solitary time to talk. Luna glided next to her sister silently, relishing the thought of her sister’s angst. “You know my pain. You hate it. You’re guilty. Say it,” she thought. “Say: ‘So what have you done for the last thousand years?’ And I shall show you, sister.”

Luna had practiced magic for 1000 years. She unobtrusively deployed an anti-teleportation matrix.

Celestia bit her lip. “Are you okay?” she asked quietly. Luna smiled tightly. She was not okay.

With a tremendous flap of her wings she propelled herself at Celestia. The latter barely had time to parry Luna’s first entombment spell before a second was cast.

“Luna, please!” Celestia’s eyes were pleading. She had no precious Elements, not now.

Luna screamed with the pain of an eternity. She redoubled her efforts.

The sky was silent, save for the bursts of magic exploding into existence. A bind hex finally ensnared the Princess of the Sun. She wriggled like a fly in a web.

“Please, Luna,” she begged. “You can- anything- Send me to the Moon. An eye for an eye; have mercy!”

Luna gazed at the captured demigod. “I am being merciful.” And with that she thrust her horn into her sister’s chest. She cast a spell of devour, and Celestia gasped her final, vicious breath.

A solar flare erupted from the sun.

Luna magically tore her sister’s Regalia from her body. The once-majestic body shrunk; and Celestia’s vaporous mane transformed back into her true, cotton-candy colored hair which tossed in the wind as she fell.

Luna donned the tiara and necklace, grew in size, and saw her own mane turn into an intangible, sky-blue manifestation blowing in the ethereal winds of Time. She smiled: she did not enjoy vulnerability. She cast a simple transfiguration incantation and watched in amusement as her coat turned white, mane adopted three pastel shades, and cutie mark metamorphosed into the shape of the Sun.

“Please, Luna,” she mocked.

Far below, Celestia’s body hit the Earth with a thud.

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In Canterlot she used some simple mental spells to extract memories from Celestia’s personal guards. An image of the deceased princess and her behaviors formed quickly.

Luna tried her costume for the first time the next day. She strolled about her castle, speaking to various members of royalty. A smug but ephemeral thrill coursed through her as they were duped.

It did not matter that she hadn’t interacted with ponies in a millennium. Alicorns had adept memory, and she spent much Time poring over the minute details of every interaction she had ever had. She could read ponies like she could read the stars.

Luna abused the monarch's power. She commanded the guards and tried to tarnish Celestia's image. But ponies seemed to love her unconditionally. The smiled whenever she appeared, comforted by the thought of their benevolent, historical ruler. Luna tried to enjoy love. She smiled back at her subjects. But her grin was hollow. 1000 years had stripped her of any and all ability to connect on an emotional level. Especially when the ponies with whom she was trying to connect were so weak. She did not think she was ego-maniacal.

She was simply superior.

Luna had watched in amusement as the Element of Generosity plummeted to Earth, just as her sister had. The agitation when that pegasus had saved her was immense. But the roaring of the audience stirred something in the princess. She vicariously enjoyed the passion of the crowd; was swept up by it—but only for a moment. That emotion, like all others, dissipated like breath on a window pane.

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One day, when conditions were right, she had released Discord. Right in front of some schoolfillies. She grinned. But chaos wasn't her motive. She could cause chaos-if she wanted to. But Discord and she shared something. Both had been imprisoned for a millennium. Maybe he could empathize with her. Maybe he could show her how to entertain herself at the expense of others. Maybe he could join her in philosophy. Maybe, together, they could be happy.

Discord went straight to work after his freedom. Luna played her part as Celestia. Discord would hate the Solar Goddess, and embrace the Princess of the Night. Together they would soar. Luna had teleported the Elemental jewelry to Twilight’s house: the last place she presumed they would look for it. She then awaited nightfall, where she could retire to Celestia’s chamber, discard that regalia, don her own, and soar to meet Discord. But the Elements foiled her once again. He would be imprisoned in stone for the next 1000 years.She wept by him and for him that night.

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On Nightmare Night she appeared for the first time as Luna to her citizens. She toyed with them: pretended to be a socially inept. The purple one had helped her. Luna had shaken her head. “I did not need help.” The victory was sweetened with hemlock.

She was pleased when she returned to her quarters. She told Spearhead, her personal slave, about it. “I fooled them yet again. And with no magic.” He regarded her with quivering eyes. She sighed.

Sometimes she would pleasure herself in front of the former guard pony. His fretful behavior was at least a validation of her actions. He was like a rat in a cage. She enjoyed a pony’s response to anything she did, though she told herself otherwise.

One day, the pitifulness of her solution manifested itself. She did not need to be judged by mortals. She cloaked Spearhead and threw him from the castle tower.

She told the Elements to go and scare off a dragon. To her disapproval, they all returned.

One week she decided to torture some ponies the old-fashioned way. She tied them up; flagellated and demeaned them; stripped them of any and all of the little dignity they possessed. Some went mad: these only reminded Luna of herself. The others were too weak and ended up broken: defecating and sobbing uncontrollably. Luna was disgusted by their weak constitution. In the end, she killed them all.

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She visited the cities and towns of her land in the guise of Celestia. They all revolted her: especially the towns of stuck-up ponies. Once she had screamed: “Do you think you’re better than me?” and rose into the air in a cyclone of fury. Most of the time, however, the pathetic beings would pronate themselves at her hooves, just as they should.

The worst city was not Canterlot, but Ponyville. The ponies there were happy. So happy. Eternally, damnably, infuriatingly happy. Luna would later call it a decision to end their happiness.

She had a ravage desire to show herself, but her brain was yet drunk with the fermenting anger towards her sister. With remarkable self-control from 1000 years of solitude, she donned the solar regalia and destroyed the Ponyville hospital.

Luna frowned. She was too powerful physically. Thick bandages materialized out of the air, and she bound her wings and legs to her torso. She levitated her restrained body into town square and released an explosion of magic.

Every window in town shattered. She smiled. Police ponies ran to confront her. One was decapitated; another flung miles into the air; the last burned.

Luna screamed with the darkness of all the nighttimes of all the years of a millennium. She saw a pink mare with a pink mane in the distance. The Element of Laughter had been a prime source of Luna’s aggravation. The Earth Pony was flung horizontally and slammed into a tree before falling to the ground.

Wave after wave of energy flowed from her horn. Mountains crumbled; streets cracked; ponies fell to the ground, some never again rising.

“I ‒ AM ‒ SUPREME!”

Birds rained from the sky. The air caught fire in a blazing inferno. Below her, a hairline crack in the Earth formed. With a colossal rumbling the ground opened below her. Houses, trees, and ponies fell into the abyss. With her final strands of power she seized the Sun and threw it into space; she grabbed the Moon and flung it at Earth.

And then she was pierced through the heart with a tree branch. She gasped and released her magical grasp on the world. The deafening bellowing and screeching of her omnipotence subsided. Luna was still. Silence pervaded the town's center; save for the crackling of flames and ragged breathing and sobbing of one lavender mare.

The few survivors left the Princess of the Sun impaled in their street. They would figure out what to do with the body tomorrow, after they attempted in vain to salvage their lives.

The body was not there tomorrow. All that was left were ashes: the remains of the Celestial regalia.

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Luna cried that night. She had thought‒just for the briefest of moments‒that she had died. But mortal ponies cannot slay an Alicorn.

With tremendous effort, she placed the Sun and Moon back into orbit. Unicorns across Earth had managed to prevent lunar collision with their planet. Luna was not disappointed.

Luna had reached a catharsis. She did not want to destroy her world. She did not want to love, nor be loved by the mortals of this world. They had not her intellectual superiority. They had not her experiences. They had not been imprisoned for 1000 years.

Maybe if they had, they would understand the futility of it all. The incessant, overbearing boredom. The unbearable nihilism.

The inability to be happy.

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The next evening, a lone colt saw a blue body hurtling towards the rippling surface of the Elican Ocean. He would retell the story for the rest of his life.

Luna tumbled through the air; a fallen angel.

Some say she refused to come up for air. Others say she died in the sky. Still others believe that the Alicorn is yet biding her Time under the waves, waiting for the release of Discord: the only other immortal who could share her pain.

That was the end of Luna as far as ponies know. A fitting dénouement to a chapter in the life of this Alicorn. An impeccable, inadequate Princess; forever crippled by 1000 years of solitude and suffering.

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Epilogue

Canterlot detectives eventually found the body of Princess Celestia and gave it a proper burial. Luna's body was never located, although the ocean is vast and expansive.The Bearers of the Elements recovered in Time. Time healed their wound, just as it should. The world was right once again.

From the trial arose a new word: a term for one who is mad, insane; hysterical.

Lunatic.