Vincent glanced up from the canvas. Tonight was truly the most perfect night for this. He could hear them all. Normally, all he could hear were the voices of the colors of nature shouting at him, daring him-- nay, challenging him to reach out and capture them all. Those voices were often combined with the conspiratorial voices spreading rumors behind his back. It was times like those that would send him into one of his fits. Sometimes, on hard days, he would simply feel all his emotions press down upon him. It was during those times that he could not hold back the tears as much as he wanted to. It was true. He was mad, because no one could understand his problem. Not one single soul in the world could understand him. On nights as beautiful as this, he felt alone.
Tonight was not like that.
Tonight, the colors were speaking softly, delicately, and almost whispering. They were telling him all the mysterious wonders of this universe. He wondered if they were singing. He was lucky if he found a place where their voices were shouting at him at a volume that seemed to motivate him, but that world, that time, that place...
...it all seemed miles away from right here, and right now.
He looked over at his... friend. The word wasn't unfamiliar to him, but the real meaning was truly unique for the painter. Even now, it still didn't seem right. She looked so dainty and beautiful, but then again she was a princess. Her dark blue dress could be called black by many, but to him it was a hue of dark blue. It matched the night sky perfectly. It was simple and straight. The garment reached almost to the ground stopping short of the bottoms of her ankles. Even her feet, in their simple dark blue shoes, each buckled with a metallic silver crescent moon, seemed fragile. Her long, wispy white-light blue tinted hair sparkled and shimmered in the light of the-- no, in the light of her moon. As he studied it more closely, it all seemed to swirl with pale blues and slivers singing in a beauteous chorus. She turned to face him, further adding to the already building choir. Her eyes were like the stars themselves. Slivery blue. They matched the necklace and tiara, bearing her insignia, perfectly. Everything about her seemed perfect. Vincent was so enraptured with her allure, that he nearly forgot he was staring. This enlisted a small, humble chuckle from her. He felt his cheeks flush as he himself let out a sheepish chuckle.
"Art thou finished yet?" she asked in a curious tone.
"Almost, princess," the gingered man replied quickly returning to his work. He had nearly forgot that he was painting.
"Vincent," the princess hummed playfully. "We had thought we had informed you to not address us in such a formal manner." Her pout was adorable, even if he had not seen the entire thing.
"Sorry, prin--" vincent paused, catching himself and mentally swearing. "Sorry, Luna." From the corner of his eye, she watched her move to his side, eyes trying to look upon the canvas. He crouched over it in order to block Luna's vision of it. "Ah, ah, ah," he tutted. "It's a surprise."
"... Very well..." Luna sighed. Only after he heard her footsteps fade farther away did he relax. He smiled. She was so bold, and yet looked so enrapturing. He could only shake his head, remembering the first they had met.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Vincent awoke in a maze. He remembered that he had fallen asleep, but it felt hazy. It was as if his entire life were a dream. It was early night, wherever he was. He got up and brushed the dirt from his clothes. He gazed at his surroundings. It looked like a garden maze at some fancy estate. Was he dreaming this? No. Normally, he would dream of painting well, or at least as well as others would perceive as good. This also felt a bit too real as a cold wind bit the tops of his ears. After a short amount of time, he found himself in a garden. The moon had not fully taken the sky and the dark shrouded all the flowers normally seen in the day. He found a brick laden path and set himself to it. As he walked, something caught his attention. It was a tiny light glowing ominously. Vincent approach it and gasped in awe.
It was pure white and held a golden highlight along the edged of each petal. There were six petals in all and each golden highlight flowed into the next, framing the pure white. What really drew Vincent's attention though was the center. It seemed to just draw him into it. The smallfilaments within radiated a pale blue fluorescence. To Vincent, the flower called out to him, begging-- nay, commanding him to paint it. He fumbled around his pockets in vain.
"What dost think thee are doing?!" an angry voice commanded. It snapped the artist out of his fumbling. He turned to find a woman dressed in a very formal gown.
"I-I was just, uh, just--" Vincent stood from his crouched position he had and stood still fumbling his jacket.
"Doesn't thou know that the royal gardens close at this hour?"
"I didn't know! Honestly" Vincent threw his hands up in defense still stuttering a response. "I don't even know where I am!"
"What..." the woman was puzzled by this response and pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. "Dost thou meanst to say that thou art homeless?"
"What? No!" Vincent shook his head finally finding control of his hands. The woman gazed at him perplexed and angered. "I mean that I have a home, but I don't how to get there from here."
"It matters not," the woman said flatly. The red-haired man reflected his own confusion trying to debate the dream theory when a flash of light behind the woman caught his attention followed by another, and another. He paid her half-attention as he watched larger flowers open up recreating the same beauty of the last one.
"Thou can leave the gardens over there," she said turning away to point the exit out to him. "And then thee can find some alley or shelter to take within the city." she sighed, exasperatedly. "None should be up at this late hour..."
"It's a shame," Vincent blurted out. The woman turned her attention back to the ginger. "It's such a beautiful night."
The woman growled, "First, thou intrude upon the sanctity of the royal gardens..." Vincent looked back at the woman. "And now, thou mock us?!"
Confused, Vincent stated, "What? It is a beautiful night, right?" He stared at the woman.
She took a step back in surprise. She scrutinized the man for a while before asking, "What is thy name?"
"Vincent, Vincent Van Gogh."
After a few minutes of quiet studying she asked, "Dost thou know me?"
Vincent shook his head.
"Well..." she said more softly flattening the wrinkles in her dress. "I am Luna, princess of the night and the nation of Equestria."
"P-princess?" Vincent tensed up. He fell to a kneel immediately seeing the truth and emphasis in the words. He never heard of Equestria, but he could see the royal regalia. "I-I'm so sorry, your highness. I really did not know."
"Rise," she said nonchalantly. "Tis' not your fault." She smiled briefly before saying, "Thou really should go though. Rest so that you may be able to rise without struggle on the coming morn."
Vincent was about to stand and take the offer to do that, but hesitated at the words. They tried to convey forgiveness and happiness, but the sounded... sad, as if she were reluctant to say it.
The red-bearded man stood and said, "But I'm not really all that tired." This caused enough of a distraction from Luna's thoughts. "And even if I don't get out of bed in the morning, I don't mind sleeping in, truthfully."
Luna's royal gaze cracked. "Dost thou speak truthfully?" she asked with obvious shock.
Vincent nodded and said a curt, "Yes."
"A-and what thy said about my nigh-- I mean, this nocturnal sky. Is this also true?" Luna asked hopefully taking a step towards the man.
Vincent smiled warmly and chuckled, "Yes."
Luna smiled. All her anger and contempt for the gingered man snuffed out in an instant. She held back her tears of joy and the urge to embrace Vincent only barely. She wanted to shout to the heavens above her happiness within her. Another question popped into her head and she nearly asked in a very joyous manner before her royal etiquette snapped her back to reality. She stood up straight, swept her hair behind her ear, and cleared her throat.
"Th-then, wouldst thou care to join me this evening?" Luna's royal poker face was still slightly fractured.
Vincent paused, causing Luna to tense slightly. Was she really this nervous? Why would she be this nervous? Dream or not, she had asked and at this point...
"Sure, why not?" he said still smiling as brightly as ever.He decided to just go with it.
Luna sighed in relief, before tensing up again after Vincent asked, "What do you want to do?"
"I-I-- uh... Well..." Vincent suppressed his urge to chuckle at the risk of potentially losing his head. "I do know of this Café..."
"I'll go wherever you think is best, your highness," Vincent said, hoping to ease the tension in the princess.
"Very well then..." She seemed somewhat relaxed. "I shall lead the way..." She began walking out of the gardens with Vincent following closely behind. He stopped at the exit, taking one final look at the strange, but beautiful flowers.
The artist and princess walked down the vacant cobblestone road until they reached the café. It was small, and lit brightly by the orange glow of a single lantern. The tables were lined up with a pair of chairs as their only company and were placed upon a brick red rug. A large terrace hung from the building by thin ropes. Vincent cursed inwardly at not having an easel, canvas, paint, or even a sketchbook.
The two took a seat deep within the café, both of them silent for a moment. Luna tensed once more, having second thoughts about this idea. Vincent took it upon himself to address an elephant in the room.
"So... a princess?" Vincent regarded. Luna only sighed inwardly at a conversation topic, albeit one she wasn't prepared for. "If you don't mind me asking," Vincent paused for Luna's permission to continue. "What is a princess doing at this time of night?"
"Tis' my duty as such," Luna answered.
"What do you mean?"
The princess giggled at the perplexed expression the gingered man bore. "As princess of the night, tis only natural that my duties coincide with the night hour."
"I see. Such as...?" Vincent could only guess at what a princess' work was like.
"Raising the moon and creating the night sky," she stated with a hint of pride.
Vincent stared at her for a moment, mulling over her words carefully. He had heard her correctly, he was definitely sure of that. He found it a little hard to believe at first, but then he began to play with the idea. 'Making the sky at night...' echoed faintly in his mind.
He let loose a hearty chuckle. "Really?" Luna nodded, eyebrows creasing in confusion. Vincent bellowed in laughter.
"Wh-what is so amusing?" Luna asked apprehensively.
"It's just-- well, I mean--" Vincent found it hard to breath when trying to compose himself. "J-Just Look at the sky!" He leaned back gesturing to it. "It's not dark and black and without character. The black is, in fact deep blue a-and it's also lighter blue blowing through the blues and blackness with the winds swirling through the air and then shining, burning, bursting through: the stars!" Vincent became lost within the brilliance of the night sky.
"And... and you see how they roar their light. Everywhere we--" Vincent looked down and stopped. He saw a look that made his heart sink. The princess had a smile plastered over her shocked expression. "I-I'm sorry... I just--"
"It is alright," Luna said quickly. She gave nervous, unconvincing laugh. "It's just..." she trailed off trading her nervous look for a bashful one. "No one has ever said anything so... nice about my sky."
Vincent nodded in understanding. He knew what it felt like to be depreciated, and also knew a remedy for it. "Well, to be completely honest..." Luna looked at him nervously. "I think that you are a fantastic artist." Vincent smiled genuinely, for the first time in a long time.
"...Thank-you." The compliment had taken her off guard as she returned the warm expression. A waiter brought the two cups of coffee and left. The aroma pierced the air, filling it with warm smells. Vincent opened his mouth to ask a question, but stopped as the princess began.
"I take it you are not from Equestria?" she asked taking a small sip from the mug.
"Nah, I'm from the Netherlands," he said scrutinizing the cup with confusion. "We... didn't order."
"Oh, yes. I forgot," Luna giggled pointing to the waiter. "He owns the place. I think he is called... Macchiato?" she looked away trying to recollect it, until a loud snore broke the growing silence. "Anyways, he owns this place and suffers from walks of sleep." She giggled watching the dream walker stumble through the doorway of the inner café. "If it is his own desire to brew at night, then we shall not be one to look a gift horse in the mouth."
"No, no we shall not," Vincent proclaimed taking a drink from his own mug.
"So... these Netherlands. Are they the place where you live?" Luna asked taking another soft sip.
"No, but is where I grew up," Vincent answer holding his mug with a single hand.
"Then, where do you live?" The princess inquired.
That night went on as Vincent told Luna about his home, and in return, she told him about her life. She was so interesting. She did not act as pretentious as some others whom he lived near to. After the Cafe, the artist and the princess wandered the streets. They swapped simple stories of their homes and growing up. After a while, he mentioned that he was actually a painter, and, despite his warnings, Luna implored that he paint for her some day. Soon though, they found themselves within the royal gardens once more. His attention was caught again by the pale ethereal glow of the flowers from before.
"What kind of plant is this?" he asked aloud, stooping down to look upon it. "I ne'er seen any like of it."
"They are Moon Lillies," she replied walking passed the man and into the center of the garden. "They were a gift from my... sister."
"Are you alright?" the painter asked aloud. "Did I do something to upset you?"
"Nay," she replied with a gritty sigh. "I... just cannot bear the thought of my sister currently."
"I see..." Vincent said standing up and walking over to the princess. She currently was looking up at the night sky, and more specifically, the moon. "I also happen to have family problems..."
"Oh?"
"Yes, but..." he sighed, looking up at the moon too. "Even if they piss you off and you never forgive them, they're still you're family..."
Luna was silent for a moment. Suddenly, ovder the horizon, the red of dawn broke the night sky.
"It... it seems that it is morning..." Luna said with a hesitant voice.
"That it is..."
"I must go... but..." she began while turning to face Vincent. "Promise me to meet me here tomorrow."
"Uh... well..." Vincent stuttered at the statement. "I... I will try, your highness." To this, Luna smile as brightly as the stars themselves.
Then, he woke up.
As far as he could understand, every night he laid down to sleep, he found himself in this strange and magical place. He always managed to find Luna, and they would spend time in each other's company. When the dawn that world broke, he parted from Luna and awoke in his unforgiving world. It occured to him many times that he should stay with the princess. He was happy here. He didn't have a single fit since he arrived, and Luna doesn't think him mad at all. However, there was no way he could figure out how to stay. Even if he did, he would have no place to stay, and he'd hate himself for inconveniencing Luna.
"Done!" he declared with pride. He picked the canvas up an walked over to the princess sitting upon the grass. He joined her and presented his work. She didn't seem to notice. In fact... she looked as though she were crying.
"Luna, what's wrong?" he asked with worry.
"I... I cannot stand it, Vincent," she said while drying her red cheeks. "My sister, Celestia, she... no one ever listens to me. You are the only one that I can stand, and yet..."
"I am here for you Luna," he spoke softly while gently folding his hand around hers. "Just as I've always been."
"But you are not," she said in a choked sobbed. "I tell her about you, and when I go to find you, you are never around. She thinks I'm mad!"
"I..." Vincent said with a pang of guilt. "I'm sorry. I wish there was-"
"Stay then," she asked with tears beginning to well up in her eyes. "Promise me you will not leave. Prove to me that I am not mad!"
Vincent paused. Luna was looking into his eyes. The colors were shouting at him, pressing and pushing him. The whispers of conspiracy and doubt whispered into his ear. They were telling him that he was helpless. The light of dawn broke over the horizon. Any moment now, he would wake up in his bed, hungover and sore. He would have no control over it, but now, as he looked upon the lovely creature before him with longing, nervous eyes, he knew his answer.
"Of course," he said as the red of dawn and the blue of night created a perfect twilight above.
Vincent Van Gogh
1853~1890
