Sogni Infetti

Celestia awoke just as the first spasm shook her. Balling and squeezing the bed-sheets between her legs, she rode out the orgasm as best she could. Her hindlegs bucked, kicking the hoofboard with each crest. Even at the height of her climax, the whole experience was as dismaying and repugnant as it was inconvenient.

When the peaks leveled out, she was left with nothing but the sound of her panting breaths, the slick of sweat in her coat, and the pressure of tears against her eyes. She lay there, curled into a knot of self-loathing, until her breath returned and she was able to think past the revolution churning in her stomach.

With care, she used the already soaked sheet to wick away the pungent fluid from between her legs. Each pat, no matter how delicate, touched the border of pain and pleasure, making her twitch and kick. When she was satisfied that she was a clean as she could be without a shower, Celestia held the defiled, bunched-up sheet out in her magic.

Even at a length away, she could smell her… unique fragrance permeating the sheet. It would need to be washed, or better, replaced entirely for what it represented. No amount of detergent could remove that stain from its fibers. She could just burn it, a quick, simple spell would see it reduced to ash in the blink of an eye. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be able to look the maids in the eye for at least a month. No, that would only leave them all the more curious about what had happened…

It wasn’t like they ever met her eyes anyway.

Sighing, Celestia dropped the wad of soiled silk to the floor, laid back down, and closed her eyes. It wasn’t like the sheet mattered. She was a pony and needed release no less than any other. In a way, it would be good for them to see it, to know what it represented. Maybe it would help them see her as something more like a pony instead of an untouchable icon. Yes, that would be nice. Perhaps she could start letting that mask slip a little now that Luna was…

Celestia groaned and rolled over, it was far too soon after… that to think of her sister in any capacity. She needed to focus on something else, to banish the image of her sister muzzle deep between her legs.

Growling and gnashing her teeth, Celestia stood and began pacing.

Two years! For two years she’d managed to put all of that behind her, to bury it in an unmarked grave where she could forget that it had ever existed. Why was this happening now? Luna was back, her sister was home and everything was supposed to return to normal. She was there, in the flesh just down the hall. She was real and strong and she needed her sister, not some… some… Celestia snorted, her pace quickening.

Her door was halfway open before she realized what she was doing and slammed it shut again.

Retreating back to her bed, she fell to her haunches, leaning her back against it as she gripped her head between her forehooves. Tears threatened to burst from the edges of her eyes, so she closed them tight. Memories of the long, lonely nights after banishing the Nightmare surfaced only to add to her misery. Try as she might, every thought turned back to the horrible solitude that had defined her life for so long. Now, with her sister returned, she could no more go to her than she could for the past thousand years.

Fate, it seemed, had a thing for cruel irony.

She huddled herself there, between the floor and her bed as she waited for the feelings to pass. Tears came despite her best efforts, but she never devolved into sobbing or crying out. This was a hole she’d dug all by herself, and she was determined to suffer it in the same silent isolation that had spawned it.

Celestia started out of her half-sleep an hour before she should have woken up at all.

Between her disrupted sleep and the whole ordeal that had followed, she was exhausted. Unfortunately, even if she could call in sick, her own morals wouldn’t allow her to do so unless she was physically incapable of anything else. Because I’m the pinnacle of morality, she thought with a sneer.

Stubbornly focusing on the task at hoof, Celestia dragged herself up and into her bathroom.

Like everything else that was hers, her bathroom was large only compared to a normal sized pony. The sink, level with her collar, was unusable by any other pony without wings or a step-stool. Her toilet could have been used to bath a foal, and her shower was large enough to fit a small family. At best, she could see to her daily needs without dwelling on it, at worst, it was a grotesque reminder of just how far removed she was from everypony else.

Stepping into the shower, her field instinctively grabbed the hot water valve. Before it turned, however, she stopped herself and opened the other instead.

The water crashed into her like an avalanche, shocking ever muscle into a stiff rigidity and expelling the air from her lungs in a single, harsh gasp. She stood there, head level with her spine and wings flared, locking her limbs and fighting the urge to flee from the frigid chill.

It had the intended effect. Every ounce of her mind was either scoured away by the gelid temperature soaking into her fur and feathers, or consumed by the struggle to remain under the frigid fall of liquid ice.

The blessed few minutes of thoughtlessness did not last. Eventually, her body acclimated enough that she regained her mobility and sentience. With this small amount of control, she set about cleaning herself.

The deluge of frigid water had worked to repress the lingering scent of her shame, but that would not last. With the vigor of an irate parent presented with crayons drawings on her walls, Celestia set about to scour away the lingering evidence of her dream.

By the time she stepped out of the shower, she’d managed to put all thought of the night behind her. It was, after all, a single slip. Such things happen to even the best of ponies. And I am proof enough of that, she thought, with more than a little rancor.

Dawn was still some ways off when Celestia finished her daily fomentation. Returning to her suite, she didn’t bother looking about. Her magic picked up her regalia, floating it to her. The peytral and tiara slipped easily into place while the shoes were dropped onto the floor between her and the door, expertly placed so she need make no adjustments in her path, stepping into them without slowing in her steady march toward the Solarium.

By the time she returned, every last speck of evidence would be gone and, she desperately hoped, forgotten.

Immediately upon Luna’s return, Celestia had set aside two hours every morning and evening for them, a chance to eat and enjoy each other’s company away from prying eyes. She’d gone so far as to carve a number of privacy wards into the stone walls, floor, and ceiling to ensure that that privacy was not breached by anypony, even attempting to do such would have very… unfortunate consequences for the offending party. Aside from their private chambers, this was the only room where they could leave their crowns behind and just be sisters.

And all the work to cleanse her mind was burnt away like so much morning fog to reveal the repressed imaginings of her sister in situations no sister should ever lust to see.

Celestia forced her mask into place, and it nearly broke her.

Every thought, emotion, and desire was hidden behind an image of calm patience. She stood, alone, in the most private and secure room in the castle, hiding everything that was not ‘Princess Celestia’.

Her stomach clenched. Luna would notice; there was no way she could not. The instant she stepped inside, she would see the mask for what it was and know that Celestia was hiding something from her. At the very least, she would read an inherent mistrust and two years worth of striving to repair their relationship would be lost. But what choice did she have? Either hide herself and cause her beloved to suffer, or let herself be known and destroy everything.

Celestia moved with a calm poise that hid the turmoil beneath and took her seat, pouring her first cup of tea as though it were any other morning.

A few minutes later, the door opened a crack and stopped. Another few seconds passed as Celestia watched the door and waited. When Luna finally stepped through the portal, Celestia’s heart caught in her throat.

Something was wrong.

Luna stared at her hooves and walked with a slow, careful gait, as though afraid she’d trip over her own hooves. Her withers were slumped and head down in a half bow. Closed tight against her sides, Luna’s wings nearly vibrated with a restrained tension that Celestia had only ever seen in terrified pegasi.

No matter how much she wanted to immediately find and fix the problem, Celestia was well aware that broaching the subject head on would get her nowhere. Luna would come around in her own time, but Celestia could hurry things along with gentle prods. “Good morning, Luna. How was your night?”

Luna didn’t pause, or even glance her way. With nothing more than a shrug and a dismissive gesture with her wing, Luna took her seat and cut into her dinner salad.

“Sister?” Celestia asked, a slight tremor creeping through, riding on the sudden, intense desire to hold and comfort her.

Luna glanced up, her beautiful, teal eyes finding Celestia’s for only the briefest second before turning back to her meal. She made no move to resume eating. “Yes,” —a pause and a silent struggle— “Tia?”

Even with Luna’s downtrodden demeanor, the use of her pet name put a flutter in Celestia’s heart. Whatever the damage she had done, there was still hope. “Is something the matter?”

“No,” she relied far too quickly. Her gaze fell to the side and the stained glass doors that led to the balcony. After a breath, she added, “I believe it is time.”

It was not. There were a solid ten minutes before dawn.

“Of course.” Celestia set her half finished cup aside and stood. Luna followed suit a second later.

It was not necessary for them to be outside, or even to see the sky. The Sun and Moon were as ingrained upon their magic as their marks upon their flanks, and touching either took no more effort. That said, it felt more natural to be outside, where the stars twinkled and the sun shined.

Celestia walked up to the banister, her peytral clinking against the cool stone. She let her eyes wander over the heavens displayed above, fighting to maintain her mask and against the nagging desire to glance at the pony standing by her side, to revel in the shape of her, the soft curves and softer—

Celestia squashed that train of thought, but it was too late. And when Luna stepped into her peripheral vision halfway across the balcony, her heart fell into her stomach at the lose. The last time she’d distanced herself so far had been the day before she…

“Luna?” The tremor was back, but, as before, if Luna noticed, she gave no sign.

“Oh,” Luna glanced away again. “Sorry, I was… I was just thinking.”

Before any more could be said, Luna’s horn ignited and the Moon began its descent, drawing Celestia’s attention back to the sky.

It was almost depressing to watch. With every passing second, more and more stars began to fade away, slipping behind the veil of inky black. For those disheartening few seconds, Celestia let the ennui wash over her and drown out the thoughts and desires that she could not repress on her own.

All too soon, it was over, and all of Equestria awaited on her.

The Sun and Moon were as different as the ambiance they brought. Those first few nights after Luna’s… They’d never discussed what it took to shift each other’s charge across the horizon. That first day, the Elements had done the work of bringing forth the day for her, resetting the balance that had been lost during the war. When evening came, however…

She’d spent hours groping for the Moon with her magic, calling out to it with a desperation that approached, but never quite reached, the moments before she brought the Elements to bear. At the end of her rope, and nearly exhausted, she’d been on the verge of collapsing when she noticed the gentle strum along her horn.

If ever asked, Celestia would have described the raising and lowering of the Sun as singing it to wake and to sleep. A pair of operatic arias sung with magic, its meaning carried only through tone and cadence. In both cases, they were loud and boisterous, filled with notes that strove to touch every corner of the world.

In her ignorance, she’d assumed that the Moon and stars would be the same. That night, she learned just how wrong she’d been.

The night sky, as should have been plain as the nose on her muzzle, was a thing of subtle beauty. It was a lullaby sung in the hushed whispers of a mother putting her foal to sleep… or one sister to another.

She’d cried herself to sleep for a month, then at least once a week for many years after.

Celestia closed her eyes and reached for the horizon. Her magic called out with the opening notes of her song, deep and low, building a solid foundation for the highs that were to come. She let herself be swept away by the familiar tune, falling into a light trance that offered another—all too brief—reprieve.

When the last thrum faded, the Sun set on its course, Celestia opened her eyes with reluctance. “Lulu,” she started as she turned, intent on forcing Luna’s troubles to light while she could hold onto her composure. No matter her own difficulties, she could not stand the thought of her sister suffering if she could do anything to lessen it. “Please tell me… what’s…”

Her voice ebbed into the empty space beside her.

She sighed and turned back toward the Solarium and the long, lonely day ahead.