Child of My Blood, Child of My Bone
Child Of My Bone, Child of My Blood
The first thought that Nightmare Moon had when her body hit the lunar soil was don’t scream.
There was one gasp of air left in her lungs. One full breath.
And, she needed that air.
Or, more accurately, the foal she could still feel kicking in her needed that air. The one that she was going to tell Celestia about, before she lost her temper. Before she became the Nightmare Moon. Before she had found one pony that had loved her night, loved the stars, loved the alicorn that had brought the moon across the sky.
Before, when she was Princess Luna.
Hold on to that breath, she thought, my child needs it!
And, in her mind, that thought was something she had held onto with the barest grips of her hooves and sanity.
Grey Stone was not the happiest of ponies.
In all fairness, he tried. But, when you had his Cutie Mark and you had his job, you had to work really hard to hold onto happy thoughts.
Grey Stone was one of the few ponies that did stone carving. For tombstones. And, when you have a tombstone as a cutie mark, wasn’t that just the whipped cream on the Marzipan Mascarpone Meringue Madness? And, he was very good at what he did. Charged reasonable rates. And, helped his clients to get through probably one of the worst times of their lives with as much dignity and respect as possible.
So, the irony of a mysterious pony coming through his shop door on a stormy evening was not lost on him in the slightest.
“Yes, ma’am?” he asked. The cloaked pony was a unicorn-had to be with that horn, and was tall. Grey Stone was not a small earth pony, but even this newcomer was easily a head and a half taller than himself.
“We have heard,” the female voice underneath the cloak, with a voice that even in a whisper could tear itself across the screaming chaos of a battlefield, “that you are one of the best makers of a necessary thing in all of Canterlot.”
Grey Stone adjusted his goggles and looked at the pony in front of him. Something about her sounded and seemed...familiar. “I am. You need a tombstone...I am sorry for your loss, of course…”
“It has been a long time,” the voice said. “I will need a simple tombstone. An obelisk, in a square pyramid form of the standard height. The name on it shall be…” And, here the voice paused, in remembered pain. “The name on it shall be Selene. There will only need to be one date on it.”
Grey Stone kicked himself mentally. A lost foal-dead just after birth or a stillbirth...those were always the worst. The hopes of a parent, the possibility of the child to be born, the dreams...all stolen by death. “I understand. How soon will you need it?”
“Within the week,” the voice replied. She used her magic to take a bag of bits and a slip of paper out of her saddle bags. “This should cover the payment necessary. And the date needed. The stone must be obsidian, or black marble if you have it.”
Grey Stone winced. Obsidian was a tricky stone to work with. And, he had enough black marble, but it was expensive, and…
The bag opened up, and there was a small fortune in bits in it. Enough for a mausoleum in black marble, let alone a simple stone marker. “I can do it in black marble, in the time frame you need...but, even for black marble, this is too much…”
“It will be what is needed,” the voice said. “The end of the week.”
As the unicorn walked out of the shop, Grey Stone realized that he had never even asked the pony her name. Or how to contact her with questions. Or even signed a contract with her for the job. She just assumed that he would take it…
And, when he opened up the slip of paper, he realized that he had no choice at all.
Nightmare Moon held out. She had to.
There was more than her pride and her ego riding on her withers.
For an alicorn, sleep and food were nice, but optional. And, she didn’t have that option for her child. She needed to be awake to maintain her barriers against radiation, against thermal differences, to keep her child fed and warm in her womb. She would trade a million years in Hell for one day where she could rest, knowing that her child was safe.
Safe. Warm. Protected.
In her mind, she remembered their mother. She remembered the little ditty that Faustia, their mother, had whispered to her when she was curled up in her wings, rubbing an imaginary spot of dirt from her muzzle, or tickling her-
Child of my blood,
child of my bone,
next to my heart,
you are always home.
She could have called upon the greatest of composers to write the most brilliant of songs. Had them sung by the most beautiful of singers, played upon the most perfect of instruments by the most talented of musicians for her daughters. But their mother would never have considered that for her children in an instant. Faustia would raise her children, with love and care and always making even the slightest moment for them when they needed it-regardless if it was in the middle of a meeting or at the latest hour of night.
An alicorn that could shatter worlds with a single bat of her eye, burn armies with a whisper, make dictators and monsters scream in their sleep with the slightest touch...would cheerfully get into snowball fights with her children. Listen to silly stories. Try not to choke on her children’s efforts at cooking, make them eat their alfalfa. Punish them if they had done wrong, yes, but never capriciously and never without explaining what they had done wrong.
It was a daunting example to live up to.
And, it was one that Nightmare Moon would not fail at. If she had failed at anything-and everything else-this, and her child, she would not fail at.
She screamed telepathically at her sister, every time she could see Canterlot. Every time she thought she could see what used to be home for her. Sister! Of all the crimes I have committed, I am guilty. Yes, guilty! And I will admit to it a hundred times, a thousand times, ten thousand times my guilt to you and to all!
If a voice in the mind could be rough from screaming, torn from pleading, hissing from the whispering bleeding of a throat torn by the worst of all tortures, hers was when she got to this point. Guity, yes, of all my crimes! Sentence me to exile, to the worst of the tortures you can think of, all of this I shall take gladly. But, this, my child, is innocent of my sins! Save my child, whose only crime was that her mother was a fool!
But, nothing but silence.
If Celestia would not save her child, she would.
Nightmare Moon had remembered her lessons. It took time, but she was scribbling the castings and incantations she would need. The child would need some protections-and, her mother would need some sleep. Everything else was optional.
She hummed as she worked. Told stories by the sound of her body’s vibrations.
And, held onto that one last breath of air that she had kept.
She did the best she could for them, in all fairness.
At least they could see their Queen.
Of all of the Four Generals, Kunzite held out the longest. But, Jadeite had done the most damage. Strange, that.
No matter. Their heads, torn from their bleeding bodies, blood bubbling in lunar vacuum, were mounted on four thin stone pikes. Their eyes were looking at their Queen, at the very least.
They looked upon a sight of horror.
By the time Nightmare Moon had finished with Queen Beryl, she had ripped the woman’s ribcage open, and tore her lungs out in the classic blood eagle. The vacuum-burned lungs made ghastly parodies of wings, perfectly pinned like a moth through by three thin stone lances, crucified against a rock wall. Her entrails, freeze-drying over a thousand years, hung like a wedding dress of blood while her head was held up by a thin stone collar driven through the wall.
The blood and flesh of Queen Beryl was touching-and merged-with the broken form of Queen Metalia that had been pinned in the rock wall behind her. At the very least, Nightmare Moon had kept the two lovers together.
And, they had never crossed the ridgeline of a single crater.
The first set of incantations were completed. They were tricky. Nightmare Moon was not as subtle as her sister, so she had to keep the energy levels down. But, if she could do it this…
Her horn glowed. The magic flowed from it into the runes she had casted on the single large crater she had chosen for “home”. Given time, she would do a lot more. But, first things first...and the first thing was to make sure this first shield would work.
The foal kicked. Going to be a runner, Nightmare Moon thought. Maybe a bigger crater. No, first we must make sure that the first shield spell works on a smaller scale. Let’s do this…
She increased the levels of power in her magic. And...the ever-present solar wind stopped.
The crater grew calmer. She could feel the levels of heat, of radiation, dropping down. In a few minutes, only the lack of air would have kept any pony from realizing that they were not standing in a field in Equestria. It works! Nightmare Moon almost was ready to dance a jig. It works! I can keep things out.
Now, I just have to keep things in. And, won’t that be tricky?
The Daleks had never believed in the idea of battle standards. The concept of an object of veneration that was not the supreme creed of the Dalek-destruction of all that stand in our way-was something that was pure nonsense, a thing created by those that were not blessed with the pure, destructive hatred of the Daleks.
Which was a pity, as the Dalek 1778th Legion had enough battle honors and victories to be worthy of veneration.
The 1778th Legion had broken the Sontarans on Malveo, in a campaign that the Sontarans still taught as as a warning to generals to not underestimate their foes. Beaten three whole Gallafreian armies. Defeated a Cybermen Attack Unit that threatened to cut off a vital line of approach for the Dalek armies attacking in the Slavern Front. Faced the true Time Lords in the Battle of the Cruciform, and even killed two of their number.
They had survived the Doctor. Twice.
Which meant that this one, solitary world-without any technology of it’s own, should have been easy prey. At most a few days, with the follow-up forces coming to turn the world into a factory for the Daleks.
They crossed the orbit of Equestria’s moon in good order. They had begun the preparation for the initial bombardment and atmospheric entry.
Nearly ten thousand Daleks, one in fifty Heavy Weapon Daleks. Over a hundred warships, capable against any foe and opponent.
They did not survive fifteen seconds past crossing the orbit of Equestria’s moon. Only four Daleks were even able to fire a single shot-and one of those shots was a spasm reflex from a dying Dalek. It’s single shot was like the clenching of a dying man’s finger on a gun trigger.
They never saw who killed them.
The rain of debris burned up in Equestria’s atmosphere, forming a short-lived meteor shower. From the battlements of the growing city of Canterlot, Princess Celestria looked up at the moon and the storm of meteors that came down. She was thankful, to be certain-but she knew there was always a price to be paid for this kind of providence.
More debris rained down on the moon.
Not one piece or speck of the Daleks fell in a single crater on the moon.
Nightmare Moon never remembered being this tired. The incantations to hold air in had taken her longer. And, were trickier. But, she could feel the slowly increasing pressure in the spell-created dome she had made. Getting that pressure to increase was even harder.
Very few ponies knew just how powerful an alicorn was. The great wars that had secured ponykind’s place on Equestra had ended centuries ago. Discord had been sealed decades before her rebellion. Even the fall of King Sombra was a precautionary tale to unicorns learning magic. Moving the Sun and the Moon? Child’s play. Celestia was a subtle master of the magical art. Have a mountain of lead you wanted turned into gold? Celestia wouldn’t miss the single spin of a quark during the transformation. Turn an army of diamond dogs into sea ponies? Celestia would be sure they didn’t suffer a single psychological trauma, without losing a single memory or changing what they were.
Nightmare Moon wasn’t as subtle, but breaking lunar rocks to find ice water? Chemically cracking out oxygen from the stones themselves? Easy enough. Not even a challenge. But, it took so much time, and there wasn’t a lot of that left. She had a few weeks, at most, before the foal was born. She needed air. Water. Food? Clothing? Housing? That could all wait until after the foal was born. She could create it with her magic, if she had to. But she needed air-not just oxygen, but other molecules and atoms. Enough to breathe. Enough so that water would not boil in the partial pressure.
Enough for a child to live on.
Child of my heart, child of my bone, Nightmare Moon whispered to her foal telepathically. Next to my heart, you are always home. Hold on a little longer. The pressure in the dome is nearly enough. You will breathe the moment you are born. You will live. And, I swear it to you, you will walk on Equestria one day.
Even if your fool of a mother, and your slattern of an aunt, have to burn worlds to give you that chance.
She hadn’t tried to contact Celestia for weeks, now. She wasn’t listening. Nightmare Moon was as alone as a mother could be.
She wondered...could she leave a message for Comet Tail? Move the rocks to spell out a word? Even if it was one sentence...I Love You...she could try.
Later. After she had given birth.
After she had gotten sleep.
And, after she had given her child a chance.
The Queen of the Borg wondered what sort of being would be so arrogant to stand here. Her children could take her, assimilate her, and their power and their uniqueness would be a valuable addition to the Collective. Many thought they were that powerful, and they had become a part of the Collective.
Of course, the few that truly so powerful that they could be that arrogant...the Queen was forever. Soon enough, they would learn that the Borg truly could assimilate all.
“I have warned you,” the booming voice rumbled. The cube of the fleet that had closed upon this arm of the galaxy rippled with her voice. Odd, the shields weren’t stopping what had to be a very carefully controlled tractor beam. They would adapt, they always would.
“I have warned you,” the voice repeated itself. “Your slaves have been freed-given new homes when they could be, death when that was their only freedom.”
Nightmare Moon always wondered about that. The thestrals, her people in many ways, would never turn away a broken soul that needed a second chance. She could have used that to build an army for when the time was right. She could feel the seal starting to break. A few more years, a few decades at most, and she would return to Equestria. And the night would never end...but, she never thought for an instant about raising an army of her thestrals. Whatever else happened, it was between her and Celestia, and she would not bring them into the field for this argument. Ever.
That might have been why Celestia still allowed it.
The arrogant bitch.
At least she had cause for it, unlike the thing in front of her.
“You have been told, again and again, that you will not be allowed any closer. This line is one that you shall not pass. Send your fleets-with banners high and blazing, or skulking through the night like ghosts. Send your soldiers and your spies. The night is mine. The line will not be breached,” Nightmare Moon said.
“You are so broken,” the Borg Queen said. “I can see your pain here. You should not be in such pain, in such suffering. I can give you peace.”
“You would give us slave’s chains, and make us love them. I shattered the soul of King Sombra for less than what you threaten my world with. I grant you this single, solitary mercy, ‘Queen’,” Nightmare Moon’s voice dripped with scorn. “You now know where you will not pass.”
“Would your child have rejected my same…,” the Borg Queen asked. She never finished that sentence.
Two hundred light years past the line that the Nightmare Moon had drawn, every single Borg Cube...shattered. Every drone was disconnected from the Collective as suddenly as if a switch had been thrown. And, as far as the Collective could determine, this had all happened simultaneously. Interesting. The drone body she used to communicate with the Nightmare Night vanished in a frozen instant of pain and shock.
In the middle of Unimatrix Zero, the Borg Queen reassembled herself. Her new body opened it’s eyes to face…
“DO NOT SPEAK OF MY CHILD!” the voice screamed. Even with her cybernetic ears, pain lanced through her body and the whole Collective. Her eyes burned with the dark glory of the being in front of her. “YOU DO NOT HAVE THAT RIGHT!”
“I AM THE NIGHTMARE MOON! I AM THE POWER THAT EVEN THE GODS FEAR! YOU HAVE BEEN GIVEN A SINGULAR BLESSING, QUEEN OF THE BORG! YOU ARE STILL SANE AND ABLE TO REPENT!”
The voice seemed to be everywhere, the Collective could not escape from it. The Collective had faced the Q before. They had faced beings of such power that even they knew where some lines were drawn, for now.
This line, the Borg Queen suspected, was one that would not be crossed for a long time.
“YOU WILL COME NO CLOSER TO THE LINE. YOU WILL RECEIVE NO FURTHER WARNINGS. AND, NO FURTHER MERCY. EVEN IMAGINE IN YOUR DREAMS THAT YOU WOULD CROSS THE LINE AND I WILL MAKE YOU BEG ME FOR SOMETHING AS SWEET AND AS DELICIOUS AND AS MERCIFUL AS PAIN!”
The voice had stopped. The being had left.
The Borg Queen looked at the records. The Collective never forgot anything. Soon, they would use that knowledge to assimilate this species…
And, for the first time in centuries, the Borg Queen knew what horror meant.
Every record, beyond the simplest of sound and visuals, was gone. Every sensor log. Every piece of data beyond what normal eyes could see, and normal ears could ear.
Every copy. Every archival file. And, every piece of knowledge that the Borg had gained from every species and world two hundred light years past the line. Gone-not deleted, but gone as if had never existed at all.
The Borg Queen considered this. This was merely a temporary setback.
The Collective would adapt and evolve. It always had, it always will.
But...there was that slightest bit of fear…
Her water had broken.
Half-learned lessons of birthing, a few times where she had been present when other foals were born. She had to remember them all, and hold them all together.
Nightmare Moon had never truly known what tired was until now. She had been awake, with small naps, and brief moments of sleep, for a whole year. She had to hold onto the real world with all her might and all her hooves, she knew and feared that she was hallucinating. Alicorns might consider sleep optional, but it was such a lovely option.
Her body shuddered as the pain lanced through it. Only a few moments longer, Nightmare Moon thought. You’ll see your first Equestria-rise soon, my child of my blood and bone. Soon…
She hadn’t felt the child in at least a week. She was numb, of course-fatigue and waking dreams and the sheer need to keep herself strong enough to keep charging the barriers that kept all the air in and everything else made her tired. Soon enough...she could sleep for a day or two. The foal would need to be fed, of course, but that wasn’t too hard and she might just be so tired that when the foal fed, she would be asleep for it. That wasn’t what Nightmare Moon wanted-she wanted every moment of her child’s life with her. But, the child needed a mother that wasn’t sleep-deprivation crazy.
Her legs buckled, as she felt her body contract. It was pain...but, it was a good pain...she could feel the head slowly pushing through. She screamed from the next contraction-how wonderful and odd to hear those screams, after months of nothing but the sound of her own blood in her ears. She gave the last breath of air from Equestria, a last gift to be given, enough to make the air here feel right through the next scream.
She could feel the head coming out. The nub of the foal’s horn gave her an erotic shiver. The next contraction...shouldn’t the foal be crying now? Or at least making some sound? Ignore the fears, ignore the terror...another contraction, push!
The wings of her child. An alicorn, Nightmare Moon thought. May she be a daughter, as a son might exceed even my will!
Another contraction, and the sound of the foal finally pushing through. She knew soon enough the after-birth would be coming...but, she needed to turn, to check on the foal.
It wasn’t moving. The head rested against one of her short legs, mouth open, a thin line of fluid dribbling out. The foal wasn’t moving. In terror, Nightmare Moon felt a surge of her power. Use her telekinesis to clean out her throat. To compress her rib cage to make her breathe. To massage her heart, to get it going. To make her breathe. To give her foal life.
She could feel it cooling. The body of the foal...wasn’t warm. It was only as warm as her body, and it was losing heat to the air, to the soil.
No...no…
Nightmare Moon looked upon the still body of the foal. She felt her magic surge, trying to drive life back into the body. But...nothing.
“I thought…,” she said in a whisper. The foal hadn’t moved for a week. I had to be numb, I couldn’t feel it, I was so tired…
The body of her stillbirth lay there, fluid pooling around it. The body of her child was there. A body that should have been crying, hungry, wanting to be held, to have affection, to have the first taste of her mother’s milk...was dead.
The tears began, like diamonds carelessly scattered across the regolith. Then, she screamed. Her power, and her magic, exploded in waves. The barriers collapsed, air exploding outward. Water vaporized instantly, boiling away in the newly formed vacuum. The body was tugged and moved by the exploding dome, for just an instant until Nightmare Moon wrapped it up in her power.
There was not a single word in that scream.
But, there were words, a scream towards Equestria. A scream that demanded attention.
FOUL SPAWN! Nightmare Moon screamed toward her sister, tears streaming down her face like a waterfall. YOU WOULD NOT SHOW ANY MERCY TO YOUR NEPHEW? YOU LEFT ME HERE TO GIVE BIRTH TO MY CHILD, WITHOUT HELP, WITHOUT AID! AND, BECAUSE OF THAT, MY CHILD IS DEAD!
IT IS ONLY NINE HUNDRED AND NINETY NINE YEARS LEFT, DEAR, SWEET SISTER…I WILL GUARD THE NIGHT SKIES FOR YOU, FOR ONE REASON AND ONE REASON ALONE.
I WILL SLAKE MY THIRST FOR VENGEANCE WITH YOUR BLOOD. BEFORE YOU DIE, I WILL SEE EVERYTHING YOU HAVE MADE TORN ASUNDER. I WILL SHOW YOU THAT YOU ARE LIVING ON THE BORROWED TIME OF CORPSES. I WILL DESTROY THE DREAM YOU HAVE MADE.
AND THEN, AND ONLY THEN, WHEN NO STONE STANDS ON TOP OF ANOTHER, WHEN ONLY THE DEAD WIND KEENS, ONLY THEN WILL I LET YOU DIE.
I SWEAR IT! I WILL COME FOR YOU, SISTER, AND YOUR WORLD WILL BURN.
The tears continued...and did not stop for decades.
He had finished the tombstone in four days. She came three days later.
He wanted it gone. The dreams began two days after he started working on it. It was a thing that was wrong, it couldn’t be here. But, it was.
This time...four came in, in cloaks. Three were tall, one was short. But, they all had horns. “You have finished what we have asked for,” the first spoke.
“Yes, I have, Princess Luna,” Grey Stone replied. “Please. Take it.”
“You have had nightmares,” the first spoke. “Of these, I am sorry I could not relieve them. But, relieve them soon, I will.”
A bag was placed upon the table. “Craftspony, I know you donated all but your fee to the local orphanage. And, in kind-beds, blankets, toys, and not money. Take the money. Take some time away from the darkness here, and find time in the sun.” The pony’s voice was so very, very said. “There is so very little time to find it.”
Two of the other ponies picked up the tombstone with their magic and carried it outside. The one that spoke, looked at Grey Stone and said. “Find joy. It is forever fleeting. Misery will drag you down with it.”
The last two ponies left and they walked out into the street. He wondered what they were going to do about the tombstone they carried-thin as it was, it was a heavy weight. He saw the flash of powerful magic. “Teleported it,” he murmured to himself. “I wonder to where?”
He looked at the bag. If it was as full of bits as the previous one...maybe she was right.
He balanced out relative costs. Two more tombstones to finish. So, by the end of the week...he could close for a month, take a vacation, still have money left over.
He would find a place in the sun. There were books to be read that he hadn’t had a chance to do yet. Maybe even flirt with somepony cute.
Looking at the time, Grey Stone flipped the shop sign from OPEN to CLOSED. A few bits of accounting, then he could go home. And, have a drink-have several drinks.
Celestia knew he needed it.
Four sets of hooves set down in the lunar regoloth.
For years, the crater was untouched. It has been left untouched, only trod by one set of hooves.
And a single, small mound in the middle. That, all four noted, not one set of hoof-prints came within one step of. They set the tombstone on the mound, with all the delicacy of a glass ornament. The position was chosen with millimetric precision. Then, the tallest walked towards the crater’s rim. From the inside of the crater, you couldn’t see the surface of the moon at all.
From the rim of the crater, you could see the horror show upon the surface.
The blasted and shattered husks of Space Monsters. Reapers lay like fresh squid at the fish market, their hulls torn by a power that made even their strength look weak. The hulls of flayed Dalek warships, laid out in examination. Thousands upon thousands of kaiju bones, arrayed like a taxonomy exam. The hulls of ten thousand invading warships-name a species, they had at least one ship there. Covenant, Cylon, Draka, Nekron, Vau...all equal in defeat.
One spot of pride was the corpses of Angels. Seventeen corpses, lined up like anatomical examinations. Their organs and viscera laid out with surgical precision. The names carved onto the lunar rock so that all could know who they were-Adam, Lilith, Sachiel, Shamshel Ramiel, Gaghiel, Israfel, Sandalphon, Matarael, Sahaquiel, Ireul, Leliel, Bardiel, Zeruel, Arael, and Armisael. For Tabris, she had taken the head of the human off with a single, clean stroke. Somehow, before the blow landed, he said to the Nightmare Moon, “Thank you.”
She never understood why he was thanking her. For some reason, she had preserved his head, and made sure it’s eyes were looking up at Equestria. At least he deserved this sight for his death.
One, then two, then finally a third alicorn stood beside the midnight-black one on the rim of the crater. They said nothing, could not say anything.
And then, they vanished.
They sat around the table, nursing cups of hot chocolate and tea, all of them taking a sip from the cups.
Of the four, Princess Twilight Sparkle was the most quiet. And the most shell-shocked. She might not have even noticed that her hot chocolate had gotten cold.
Princess Cadence considered her cup of tea. She could feel the love, like another could feel sunlight on their skin, radiating off of Princess Luna. Lost love, which was even worse.
Princess Celestia, sipping at her tea, considering her next words.
And, finally, Princess Luna, silent ever since she had returned from the moon.
Celestia broke the silence, “Luna, I did not know you were with foal that night. I did not hear you on the moon, or at any time during the thousand years of your exile. And, sister, believe me in this-had I known, I would have done anything to have saved your child.”
“‘Tis true,” Luna replied. She took another sip of her hot chocolate. “I suspect that the Nightmare made sure that I couldn’t speak to you at all. I wonder, seriously, if I can claim that it slew my child as well, to ensure that my rage would never die against you. That I would never forgive you.”
“It is...a tragedy,” Cadence said, looking at Luna. “I wish I had better words than that.”
“They come from your heart,” Luna nodded. “That is all I ask for.”
“To have that happen…,” Twilight Sparkle said, in a low whisper. “That had to have truly been madness for you, Princess Luna. I...I don’t know what I would have done, had that happened to me.”
“It was, and it was madness,” Luna said, her head hung low. She finished her hot chocolate and considered them all.
“May I have a few moments?” Luna asked. “Alone, on the balcony? We are at least two hours away from bringing down the moon, yes?”
“More like three,” Celestia replied. “And, we’ll be here, if you need us.”
“Thank you,” Luna slid away from the table, and walked to the balcony.
Luna considered the stars. And the moon.
How long did such pain last? For alicorns, maybe forever. Maybe you had to live with the emotional scar tissue, all of it.
And, still have space to love.
“May I come up?” Celestia asked from the doorway.
“Yes, thank you,” Luna replied. Her sister had a box balanced in her wings, standing there, considering.
“I remembered Comet Tail. After the Night That Never Ended...once a week, he came, pleading for mercy for you. I think for years, the Court of Day whispered that he was mad, insane,” Celestia spoke. “You never told me…”
“He was...special,” Luna replied. Remembering the long nights under the stars. The telescope to pick out details in the moon. Lilies in her hair, as he had braided a crown of them to give to her. The kissing, the hugging, the sharp sigh, the final release...the feeling of a new life beginning.
In horror, she realized, she never told him, did she? “I wanted it,” Luna whispered, “to be a surprise to you all. The Court of Day and Night was a nest of vipers back then. To inflict that upon him, without your aid and help...it would have been more merciful to slit his throat.”
“I don’t think he ever knew. And, I don’t know if that was a kindness or a torture,” Celestia nuzzled her sister’s cheek. “My guards found him in a field, just behind the mountains there. He had died with his telescope set up. I think he was looking at the moon when he died. After that...he had no family. Never married. Worked odd jobs as much as he could, and I think he went out every night to look at the stars. My guards found his notebooks, and I kept them.”
Celestia set the box down between them. “He was very complete. And...I read them all. The very last one, the very last page...may have been the last thing he ever wrote. I suspect it was,” Celestia hung her head low, and shook it. “And, I suspect that I should have never read it. It was for you, and you alone.”
Luna opened up the box. Trust Celestia to make sure she knew which book of the many notebooks in there was the last one. And, she opened it up to the last page, his notes still in the tiny, neat handwriting that he always used.
Think this might be my last time to see her, the notebook said. Doctor says it’s luck that I haven’t died yet. I can see one crater on the moon, I think I still see her walking along it, around it, in circles. I wish I was walking along with her, even now. Even with every painful joint, even with every sore muscle.
I miss her, I miss her so much...and, I’m sorry I couldn’t bring her home.
Luna’s tears began to fall again. She carefully moved the notebook away, he wouldn’t want to let his observations get smudged, after working for them so hard, she remembered in painful joy, of one day when they got hit by a sudden rainstorm, and they had to protect his recently-made notes.
I knew, that day, it was love, Luna thought. Even thought I would lose him, by an eyeblink of time for our kind, I couldn’t deny it. Ever.
“Luna,” Celestia said. “It hurts, I know. Please...don’t hurt alone in the dark. We’re here for you. All of us.”
“Thank you,” Luna replied. She cleaned off the tears, and nodded to her sister. “I will be ready to speak to you about it, and dealing with the moon, soon. A few minutes?”
“Yes, of course.”
Celestia left, closing the door behind her. Luna took a deep, deep breath and said to the open air, “You can come out now.”
From under the rafters of the roof, a thestral uncurled it’s hooves and landed with a soft clatter beside Princess Luna. His dark indigo fur was barely two shades lighter than his night-black mane, and his wings were dark and leathery, with the faint discoloration of scars. He looked at Princess Luna with calm, huge green eyes. “Ye have had loss,” the thestral said, letting his fangs peel past his lips slightly. “A hard thing, aye. Have ye decided yet?”
Yes,” she said. “How soon can you gather up, oh...three hundred to three hundred and fifty soldiers that clean up well and have the patience and skill to survive Canterlot?”
“A nest of snakes still,” the thestral replied. “But, I can find the right ones. Three weeks, I think. Plumbing might be internal as much as external, but I don’t think ye mind that.”
“Competence,” Luna said, drawing herself up into a regal pose that she had seen Celestia do so many times, “is the only thing that determines in my mind who serves in My Guard. And, it has long since been time, Night Prism, for the court to remember that for the Day, there shall be a Night.”
Luna looked at him, every inch the Princess she was. “I owe my child that much. I would do everything in my power to give her the world that I would have given her, had she lived. And, in three weeks, I will reopen the Court of Night. My sister promised me that we would be equal again-and I will start from here.”
Night Prism looked up at the sky. “Long flight back home to the nests, I think. With ye permission, Your Grace, I will get started now.”
Luna nodded. “My prayers of good winds and open skies go with you, Night Prism.”
The thestral opened up his wings, and with four powerful strokes was in the air and flying west, chasing the moon. Luna watched as he departed, and started to pack away the notebooks at her feet. Royal Carpenter, she thought, putting the notebooks away, I will have him make a bookshelf for me, for all of Comet Tail’s notes. And, I will read them, and remind myself that everything is fleeting-but love and the memory of love is eternal.
Luna took one last look at the box and put the lid on it. Even with the pain. It is worth it.
She took one last look at her moon for the night. Child of my blood, child of my bone, next to my heart, you are always home. You are home for me, my child. And, I will make Equestria a home worthy of you. You have aunts that love you. And, I promise you this-I will be worthy of the mother that I should have been for you.
Luna sighed. “Good morning, Selene. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”
One last look. One last tear. And, Princess Luna held her head high and walked into the future.
Author's Note
It's a sad story. It also ties into the core portion of a longer set of stories that I plan on working on soon.
The little ditty/saying that Luna repeats is something that if I didn't create...it stuck with me in my brain very well indeed.
And, yes, in my mind, alicorns are THAT scary. Alicorns never threaten, they promise. And they always keep their promises...