Celestia's ears prick forward to catch Luna's words. Her expression is peaceful, a pleasant smile on her face and her eyes glow with warmth. She sits out in one of Canterlot's many gardens with Luna, a cup of tea between her white hooves. Luna's blue ones drifted through the air, with her turquoise eyes looked on, shining with mirth as she went on with her amusing anecdote.
It was usually nice to have a day off, especially with Luna, who always told wonderful stories. All those stories served as a decent distraction from the ever-present nag that days off were just sloth in disguise, which was part of why Celestia rarely permitted herself any. Goodness knows that she managed to get through her whole rule alone without so much as a single new-fangled 'vacation day' so why she would need one now was... puzzling, to say the least.
Celestia paused to take a sip of her tea before Luna's tale would cause her to spit it out in surprise later on. That one of the many reactions they often provoked from her, and certainly one of the more common ones. "Luna, you really have to write down something one day. You can weave an epic of even the dullest of things."
Luna propped her cheek on her hoof, ceasing her current tale as a devilish gleam emerged in her eye. "Is that a challenge, then?"
"No, not at all. I don't think I'd be much of a competitor. I've never had your way with words."
Luna stuck her tongue out and plucked a nearby flower from its home. She twirled the blossom in her magic. "Great storytellers are so hard to come by! There certainly were quite a few I missed out on, like that charming playwright that popped up a few centuries back. Such wit he had! I would have liked to meet him myself."
She chuckled slightly and twirled the flower again, as though neither mare had lived through the age when playwrights and the ponies that brought the words life had seen as naught but low-life. "'A rose by any other name'. That has to be one of my favorites; it can be so profound when spoken by the right pony at the right time, don't you think?"
Good heavens, Celestia remembered when Luna once begged her to shelter an acting troupe in their old castle. Those poor ponies had been chased into the treacherous Everfree Forest — in mostly one piece — and the reputation of their trade alone had made Celestia ready to teleport them out of the woods altogether, be it storm or shine.
"That's not a rose, Luna," she said as the recollection faded.
Her sister shrugged and tucked the flower behind her ear. "But if I called it a rose it would not cease to be what it really is, now would it? Names have power, but wouldn't you say that the quote still retains much merit, even to this day? A name that grows into something new would rarely make anything worse off."
"I'm sure it does, Luna," mumbled Celestia between another sip of her tea. She felt a soft spring breeze roll through the garden and closed her eyes to savor it, the tea's steam tickling her muzzle. As much as she enjoyed Luna's wit, Celestia's heart wasn't in this conversation.
'A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.'
It really was a thoughtful line, and for Celestia, the thorns of this rose dug quite deep. Names did have power and Celestia did believe that they could change ponies — and the faces that one envisioned in their own mind. After all, it was her who, at times, had been torn between admitting that 'Nightmare Moon' was just a mask to cover Luna below, or pretending that they were two separate entities as so many had falsely believed.
She took another gulp of tea before setting the cup down. It helped hide her guilty swallow. Celestia hated this day for so many reasons all jumbled together so carelessly within her mind and heart alike. Hearts were such fickle things. In her earliest years, that heart had told the little filly with a mane of soft pink and a coat of snow that the little blue one was her sister — and that she should love her and play with her since it wasn't as if there was a time when the wide-eyed little one wasn't around. Or, if there had been, it wasn't a time that she could remember. Soon after that long-past youth, the two shadows that loomed over them vanished, but not before they made Celestia promise something.
She had to take care of Luna, and she agreed wholeheartedly, not knowing what would lie ahead. For centuries she protected the little star that was Luna. She shielded her from everything that could be with her own heart. Celestia lived for Luna, and Luna alone. She could never lose Luna and there could be nothing but Luna. As unhealthy as that was according to modern headshrinker blether, Princess Celestia could not bear the thought of changing that.
She even broke her heart for Luna. It was nothing but shards when they had found ponies once again, and because of that, she lost sight of everything.
Celestia laughed lightly as Luna acts out a flamboyant and over-emphasized battle scene from some old drama of ages past, using a chair to fence off foes only she could see. Luna knew that the mare she called her sister would laugh so, for only a former Bearer of the Element could know its intricacies so expertly. Celestia tries to ignore the lump in her throat. That lump is her heart, and it took the loss of her precious star to fix it.
Luna's words barely register to Celestia, who is lost somewhere within herself cradling the wounded pieces that still remain.
Sister.
It was such a strange term to her, only made familiar by Celestia's experience at regulating her emotions. She was so terribly used to warming every word so it sounded familiar and without any distant any rehearsed qualities that would come from most rulers.
This was the word that confused Celestia deeply. What was that word supposed to mean to her? Did it speak of envy, kinship, or something else? How was she Luna's sister of all possible relations?
She couldn't be her sister, and she didn't think of herself as such.
Princess Celestia could only think that she was Luna's mother — and she was a mother who was so proud of how far her daughter had come. She had cared for Luna more than anypony else had, and even when she didn't, there must have been some part of her that worked for Luna's well being. That was a thought she needed to clutch with every bit of strength she had.
She was Luna's mother, it was the only way to describe the benevolence and loyalty she felt toward Luna, who she had given up so much for and would protect from anything.
The sound of Celestia's clapping hooves rang out as Luna took a bow and prepared for her next 'scene' of her little display.
Names had power, and it was a power that Celestia did not dare interfere with.
Nightmare Moon or Luna?
Sister or Mother?
Could Luna's proverb really be true? Celestia was a rose who wanted so desperately to be called by another name, and it was a name that could never be that defined feelings she never dared voice — and especially not on this most dreadful day, when Luna would be imagining somepony else's face instead of Celestia's own. Celestia would never say such things to her little star, who might believe they were still coming back. Even if Luna did not — which Celestia had every reason to doubt — Luna would never do what she believed to be a lie or tarnishing the memory of a mare Celestia cared nothing for. Her little star still viewed her as a sister and would never agree with what she felt. Something would have to be broken to give Celestia what she sought, and once broken, it could never be fixed.
She was doomed to be the sister as much as she wished otherwise, a proverbial rose who just as sure as the saying suggested would be just as sweet under her true title, if not even more so.
During Luna's grand finale, Celestia insisted that the tears shining in her eyes were from laughing so hard.
Celestia could be a good actress too.
Author's Note
Interior art source.
The story of Celestia's promise can be found here.
[Revised for printing on 8/30/2020 and 1/7/2023.]
