Dear Princess Celestia...
Author's Note
Listen to this before reading. If you're reading on a phone, turn it sideways.
Dear Princess Celestia...
Dear Celestia:
So this is it, huh? This is how it ends? The two sisters torn appart by something so petty as a little moonlight? You want this to be how we part? So be it.
"Luna, what are you writing?"
"Private correspondence"
"To whom, might I enquire?"
"An old friend who lives far away now."
"Oh, well, carry on."
You know that I consider you my closest friend, but we are slipping, fast. Every time I try to talk to you, it's "Procedure" this and "Traditions" that. Are you even a pony anymore, or are you just a mechanical ruler, an automaton set on "bossy" mode?
Stubborn! That's what you are! You refuse to yield even an inch in your archaic ways. Try something new! Try actually letting me do something for once. Try listening. I know being princess is fun, but try lowering yourself to us common pony's level for once. Get off your high horse, so to speak.
"Can we talk?"
"About what?"
"About you."
"Why is it always about me, huh? It's never you, it's always me who needs talking to!"
"Luna, I—"
"''m sorry'? No you aren't! You're never sorry! You do not feel sorry for me. You feel sorry that I do not mold to the shape you want. You're sorry that things aren't fitting your clockwork form. I'm not your minion! I'm a princess, your equal! Sometimes I feel like your superior!
I know our negotiations are not going well. Your refusal to listen to me has driven a wedge between us. You're stubborn and I'm steadfast. I can't help what I want. I only seek justice for myself and my nocturnal domain. But now, you act as if I'm evil, as if I'm possessed. I'm no longer a friend it seems. Am I only a political advisory in your eyes now? Is that all I am to you? An obstacle?
Very well then. If you seek to impede me, you give me no choice but to take matters into my own hooves. It's not what I'd like to do, but it's what I have to do. The glory of night mustn't be overlooked any longer. I will force our little ponies—and you—to finally acknowledge it, to bask in its bespeckled glory.
"Luna, there are traditions for a reason! You can't just go around changing how things work. I have offered you a myriad of ideas for how we can constructively address this problem, but frankly, I don't think you want to listen."
"I don't want to listen? I don't want to listen? You throw little trinkets of remedies at me! They don't work! Nopony comes to my night education classes! Nopony cares about daylight savings. They just sleep in longer! Nopony cares that I've added twelve new constellations this month. The only ones who notice are drunk revelers stumbling home. You know how many copies of Starswirl's Guide to the Stars, 12th Edition have been taken since we made it free? I checked. Fifty-six. Fifty-six! These are not panaceas. These are crummy band-aids. You know what I want: More night!"
Every day, there is a shadow at my back. It is at once my own fears and something else. It follows me everywhere. Everywhere. There's no escaping it. I'm tired. Tired of fighting it. Tired of fighting you at the same time. I can't fight both, and frankly, it's more persuasive. I want peace. I want sleep. I just want to let all this fighting go. This voice... this thing, it promises me that. It tells me I don't have to think, to feel anymore. That sounds nice. It really does. I just want to let go, let someone else fight my battle. I think I will. All I have to do is let go.
You've said it's like I'm having a bad dream. This is worse. This is a nightmare. Sometimes I feel like I'm dying, then wonder if I already am dead. Is this what it feels like? To just give away living? I suppose I've been dead for a long time then, living under you. No longer though.
"Luna, what is happening to you? You won't even talk to me anymore. It's like you're not even yourself. Where's the little sister I used to know? I want her back. Come back please."
"I'm not your shadow, Tia. I'm my own mare. I can make my own decisions. I can be my own pony. And you can't stop me."
"I don't want to stop you! I just want to understand! What's happening to you? Why won't you let me in?!"
"I have others, you know. I don't need to rely on your company. Unlike you, I have friends. Friends who care about me, who love me for who I am, not who they want me to be."
"You're lying to yourself, Luna!"
"Like you aren't?"
I don't want to let go. Sister, if you love me, you will stop me. I can't stop myself anymore. Celestia, I'm losing myself, and I'm scared. I don't even know what I am anymore. I'm not sure who I am anymore. I don't want to be a monster.
Help me, please.
Please
Your Sister, Luna
"Did you really expect me to sit idly by while they all basked in your precious light?
There can only be one princess in Equestria! And that princess will be me!"
"Luna, I will not fight you! You must lower the moon! It is your duty!"
"Luna? I am... Nightmare Moon! I have but one royal duty now: to destroy you!"
"Oh, dear sister. I am sorry, but you have given me no choice but to use these."
Celestia held the tear-stained letter in her hooves. The ink had bled to the point of being unreadable, but she had long ago memorized the words. She looked up at the sky, staring longingly at the moon—her moon. This was no different than any other night, save one thing, the one thing that gave her any sort of hope. That number she hated and loathed herself for—172,231 days—was now just a little smaller.
