Fallout Equestria: Dark Side of the Moon

by Between Lines

Rating: teen
Tags: Crossover, Alternate Universe, Sad, Drama, Dark
Length: 1881

(Parallel asynchronous universe) With the help of Starswirl's magic mirrors, Princess Luna reads the story of Littlepip.

Mirrors can be dangerous things. They can show us sides of ourselves hidden from our sight, sides we never wanted to see. Especially Starswirl's magic mirrors.

There are terrible worlds out there.

Filled with terrible ponies.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2015-12-01 23:40:02 UTC

The Book

I wasn’t sure quite how to feel. Anger was there, definitely, but anger at what? Anger at myself? At fate? At the idiotic book before me? At that insufferable Sunset Shimmer, and her damnably secretive Department of Alternate Affairs? That she’d tried to hide this from me?

That maybe—just maybe—she’d been right to do so?

I glared again at the book, which was still open to the last page; its final words were burned into my mind.

“I should probably start by explaining a little bit about PipBucks…”

I wanted to fling the book out the window, never mind it was big enough to probably kill somepony if it hit them, and perhaps put a hole in the pavement besides. Under other circumstances, I likely would have tossed it, or burst into peals of laughter. In some ways, it really was grossly offensive to the point of hilarity: a book alleging that I’d turned a future Equestria into a twisted charnel house, all while my precious sister got to look on as the innocent martyr. And yet, this ribald jest had me debating whether to jam a spear through its cover or my own face.

I looked over at the box it had come in, the broken seal of the DAA lying beside it on the desk. I’d always suspected Sunset was up to more than she claimed, but never anything like this. Actual artifacts from other worlds—other timelines—fetched from beyond Starswirl’s damnable mirrors. As if the book itself weren’t damning enough, at the bottom of the box sat more evidence, bags full of caps alongside photographs and scouting reports of significant locations. There was the twisted hellhole of Fillydelphia, and, beside it, the melted corpses of Canterlot. I closed my eyes and muttered a quick prayer of thanks that they hadn’t managed to identify my skull. Seeing my own cadaver would have been too much.

“Luna?” There was a quiet rap on my door, and I instantly felt a pang of guilt. I could tell just by instinct I’d left the moon beneath the horizon. “Are you alright?”

“I…” I gave up before even starting the lie. Celestia was so sensitive to my mood these days, she’d have panicked more if I’d tried. “I’m not doing well, sister.”

The door opened with barely a creak and shut without a click. I didn’t look up as I felt her warm presence settle beside me. Again, I felt that twisting, jagged indecision in my gut. All at once, I wanted to bury my head in her shoulder and cry, and, at the same time, I wanted to shove her away. Push until that sweet, stupid, perfect sister stopped loving me, stopped making everything hurt so much.

And then her wing wrapped around me, and I started to cry.

“Luna, what in Equestria happened?” I couldn’t find the breath to tell her, every sob squeezing my lungs like a vice. Even if I could have said—could have explained—I wasn’t sure I wanted to.

She didn’t pressure me. She just held me, even as the night grew later and the moon remained forgotten. I knew she could have raised it—should have raised it—but she’d promised that she would never take over my role again so long as I was able. I knew, in a way, it was a show of faith even as I bawled my eyes out like a foal.

Eventually, somehow, I got my crying down to a modest sniffle, and she wiped my tears away with a wing. “I-I’ll get the moon,” I whispered, hiccuping as I tried to catch my breath.

“Shhhh, it can wait a little longer.” She nuzzled me, and I almost started crying again just from how perfect she was. Damn her. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“I don’t… I don’t know how to explain.” I fell back into soft hiccups, her wings so soft around me. I’m not sure how long I sat there before I spoke again. “Do you know what Sunset’s been doing?”

“No,” she said with a touch of firmness. “And I don’t want to. I want her to know she’s trusted.” I couldn’t see Celestia, but I knew she’d seen my desk and the stolen items upon it. It was hard to miss the DAA's seal. “I take it the feeling’s not mutual.”

“Have you seen the Sunset's latest budget proposal? It’s a joke. You could not run an office with that funding.” I glanced up just enough to glare at the box of impossible items on my desk. “She’s filing patents left and right, bringing in enough private revenue to rival some shipping companies, and turning away every oversight committee that so much as breathes at her department.”

“If she wishes to handle matters privately, that’s her prerogative. She is a princess as well, Luna.” I felt the anger flare up again in my gut, at least until I picked up on her tone. “But… I take it your suspicions were not unfounded.”

“I…” I found myself at a loss for words. “I found something I shouldn’t have.”

“I thought that was the case.” I felt the tingle of magic in the air, and glanced up to see her glancing over the photos, a grimace spreading on her face. “I knew she was continuing Starswirl’s work on the portal mirrors, but I didn’t think she’d find any place so… defiled.”

“It’s the future,” I whispered, closing my eyes and nuzzling tighter against her. “A future, I mean. As far as I can tell, Twilight never became a princess there, and maybe that’s why everything fell apart, but…” I felt my throat close up on me. I had to say it. I had to, but I couldn’t.

Celestia gripped me tighter, telling me without words that she’d guessed what I was struggling to say. “Shhhh, it’s okay. You said yourself—”

“No!” I pushed her away, my mirror shattering as her wings flared on instinct, her feathers sweeping the contents of my desk to the floor, everything but that damnable book. I glared at her, at the hurt and surprise in her eyes. And then I finally ripped the thorn out of my heart. “I did it! It was me! It’s always me! I finally finished it! I finally destroyed the world!” My voice rose and rose until I was screaming. My words felt louder than the Royal Canterlot Voice, and yet it was still too quiet for the pain I was trying to cry out. “You should have left me there on the moon where night—”

Her hoof was like a bolt of golden lightning, across my face and gone, taking my thoughts with it. All I could do was stare dumbly at the wall, my cheek stinging like it was on fire, my neck bent at a right angle. Slowly, I reached up to make sure I still had a cheek. And then, I looked at her, and saw the tears in her eyes.

“Never, ever, say that.” Her hoof shook there in the air, shivering with emotion. “Never.”

I felt the tears welling back up in my own eyes. “But… why? Why me? Why is it always me?”

“I don’t know.” Her hoof came out again, but this time it was to pull me close, her wings wrapping around me once more. “Sometimes fate is just cruel to some of us.”

“But it’s not fate.” I started to feel that vice tighten around my heart again. “I always get to choose, and I always choose wrong. I chose to spite you. I chose to continue the war. I keep making the wrong choice.”

“Do you? Because I remember my sister choosing to forgive herself.” She stroked a hoof slowly through my mane. “I remember my sister choosing to give up her magic and trust in an incredibly stupid plan.” She chuckled softly. “I remember my sister choosing to weep for a world she never destroyed.” She tipped my chin up with a wing. “Did this other Luna do any of that? Because that doesn’t sound like my sister.”

The tears overflowed from my eyes, and I pulled her into the tightest hug I could manage. I squeezed and squeezed, until I heard Celestia let out a pained grunt. Carefully, I eased up a bit, but I refused to let go. The way her hooves squeezed me back, I knew she felt the same.

Eventually, I spoke, “What should we do?”

“Do?” Celestia asked, playing her endless games of obfuscation.

“We can’t just leave them like this.” I pulled away just far enough to look at the pictures. “They’re suffering so much over there.”

“That depends.” Celestia levitated up one of the photos, grimacing again as she looked at the soot slathered nightmare of Fillydelphia. “Are you saying we need to make amends?”

I could hear the trap in her words, and I shook my head. “No, not amends, but… it’s the right thing to do.”

“I’m certain Sunset would beg to differ.” Celestia tossed the photo back on my desk. “No doubt why she hid such revelations from us. She acted for what she saw as our own good.”

“What right does she have to judge that?” I felt that hot twist of anger again.

“She has every right,” Celestia said with a sigh. “It is her department, as you said, created under sovereign royal mandate. We could cut her funding at the most, but as you pointed out, the funding is almost ceremonial at this point.”

“I can’t leave them like this.” I reached over and adjusted the photo with my hoof. “Maybe it wasn’t my fault, but what kind of pony am I if I just leave them there? Maybe the other... maybe she chose wrong, but at least she was trying to help. At least she acted.”

“And sometimes that can make things even worse.” I felt her lean in and place a kiss upon my brow. “Think about what you need to do, what you think is right. And know, I’ll be behind you, whatever you choose.”

I sniffed, and wiped one last tear from my eye. “Thank you.”

She gave me one final squeeze, and trotted to the door. “Oh, and Luna?” She stopped and glanced back, a playful smile on her face as she tipped her horn towards the window. “I think ponies are starting to panic.”

“Oh!” I immediately raised the moon, blushing as my sister giggled all the way out. As soon as she was gone, my eyes wandered back to that damnable book, but this time, I felt no anger. In its place bubbled a quiet confusion, simmering as I flipped the book closed at last. Perhaps my counterpart had destroyed the world by refusing to let go, but did that mean it was right to turn a blind eye, when there was so much I could do to help?

Taking a deep breath, I slipped the book into my desk and stood, straightening my regalia. For now, this Equestria needed me. Stepping out into the hall, I offered a comforting smile to the guards outside my door, and started on my way towards the throne room. At the very least, I could be a good princess here.