Author's Note
This chapter takes place roughly in the middle of the (proposed) story, and, as such, needs some explanation.
In this AU, Alicorns have normal, mortal lifespans. Alicornhood follows the crown(s), and new Princesses gain their wings and/or horns during a painful magical ritual that takes place during their coronation.
The narrator is a seventeen-year-old Celestia, born a unicorn, and crowned Princess of the Sun at the very young age of twelve. Her best friend in the world is fourteen-year-old Twilight Sparkle; in fact, Celestia sometimes tags along as the seventh member of the Mane Six.
When Celestia, Twilight, and their friends defeated Nightmare Moon, she turned back into an elderly mare. She turned out to be Princess Luna, the Princess of the Moon from a thousand years ago--Celestia's somethingth-Great-Aunt, and (surprise!) Twilight’s direct-line grandmother. This means Twilight and Celestia are distant cousins, and makes Twilight herself the next in line to inherit Luna’s title--though Twilight herself is happy, for the moment, to remain in Ponyville as a relatively anonymous unicorn.
After a short period of readjustment, Luna quickly reclaimed her spot on the long-vacant Lunar Throne, restoring the Diarchy to Equestria--though not everyone is entirely pleased with this fact, least of all Celestia herself.
And so begins our scene…
1: After the Show
“And, once again,” Aunt Luna growled, “We find ourselves having this discussion.”
The three of us—Great-Aunt Luna, Twilight, and I—stood in the larger of the two rooms we’d reserved in the biggest hotel in Ponyville. Luna and I had planned to stay for a week (she was helping archeologists explore the old castle, and I was spending time with my friends while we got fitted for our Gala dresses). It was going to be the perfect week—Loonie and I wouldn’t have to see each other, I could spend as much time with Twilight as I wanted, and not a courtier in sight to tell me what to do—
But here it was, only Thursday, and already we were at each other’s throats.
I watched Loonie pace the room. Her old-fashioned day dress, striped blue-and-white, with billowing skirts and long sleeves, lay draped over a chair, with her flat straw hat, moonflower tucked in the brim, perched on top. Now, Luna herself wore nothing except her ceremonial collar and horseshoes, her steel-blue mane pulled up in a tight bun. She was tall and lean—almost withered, sometimes—but, despite the wrinkles on her face, there was fire in those eyes of hers.
I snuck a glance at Twilight. She, too, had her mane in a bun--a loose, modern one--though she’d been wearing it like that for years. She stood there, head bowed, looking properly ashamed, her square-rimmed glasses slipped halfway down her face. She still had some ash in her mane—as did I, I was sure—but there were more important things at stake now.
I turned to look at Luna again, mustering my fiercest glare.
Suddenly, Aunt Luna stopped and turned to glower back at me.
“Princess Celestia,” she said gravely.
“My name is Cece,” I growled.
Aunt Luna’s eyes flashed. “See-see,” she repeated disdainfully. “I will not call you by such a ridiculous nickname. You are a Princess, not a child,” she snapped.
“Then why do you keep treating me like one?” I shot back.
“Because you insist on being childish,” she snarled. “On top of all your other mischief,today, you had the gall to—” Luna sighed, then put a hoof to her forehead. After a moment, she spoke again. “I cannot rightly apprehend,” she said slowly, “what exactly you were hoping to accomplish by giving your friend Butterfly—”
“Fluttershy,” Twilight interjected quietly.
Luna nodded her thanks. “Fluttershy,” she repeated. “You gave your friend Fluttershy your dear Philomena to take care of, on the eve of her Rebirth, claiming her to be gravely ill. If you weren’t trying to break her heart, then I have no idea—”
“It wasn’t supposed to happen like that,” I pleaded. “It was just supposed to be a simple prank. Philomena always Rebirths about an hour after she molts completely. How was I supposed to know she was going to hold on for another forty-eight?”
Luna shot me a scathing look. “Would it have hurt Fluttershy any less,” she said icily, “if it had happened sooner?”
“Yes,” I growled. But, even to me, the word sounded hollow.
Luna smirked a little, and I snarled back. We both knew the score. Loonie one, Cece zero.
Aunt Luna took a deep breath. “Prank, trick, or outright lie,” she began, “there’s little difference in the end. But be that as it may, that would have been bad enough on its own. But poor Fluttershy was so distressed that she missed Rarity’s fashion show, forcing Rarity to scramble to find another model at the last second. Further,” she added, building up steam, “Fluttershy rushed the stage mid-show, scattering ashes all over the townsponies and yourselves, not to mention all of Rarity’s hard work.” Her eyes flashed again. “To say nothing of the fact that you took shameful advantage of Rarity’s generosity—”
“She volunteered!” I cried out. “She wanted to make us dresses! You have no right—!”
“And you have no right—!” Luna roared.
“Grandmother,” Twilight said quietly.
Both of us stopped and turned to look at her. I shot Luna a glance; buried somewhere deep under the steel and ice in her gaze, I caught the faintest glimmer of warmth. I huffed indignantly.
“Grandmother,” Twilight repeated, “I know it might not have been right to snub her work like we did…” She pushed her square-framed glasses up her nose. “But Rarity was only trying to make sure we were happy with her gifts. That’s all.”
“I understand that, Twilight,” Luna said gently. “And I can appreciate that. However,” she added, turning to me again, “be that as it may, that does not give you license to abuse her generosity like you did. She made you, each of you, beautiful dresses, and you just—”
“Mine was awful!” I cried. “Did you see it?”
Luna turned and shot me a withering glare. “I did,” she said.
I stared back at her blankly. “You did?” I repeated.
She nodded. “I have… something of a reputation as a seamstress,” she admitted. “And Rarity wanted my advice. She wanted to know what colors I would recommend. And I was the one who suggested she use that beautiful burgundy…”
I glared at her. “So it’s your ego talking, then,” I hissed.
She glared right back. “My ego has nothing to do with it,” she said. “You could have worn a pillowcase and I would have been happy for you, if only it had been honestly given and graciously received. And wear a pillowcase you very nearly did,” she added, with a little sniff. “In all earnest, your second dress was a travesty. Gray and shapeless—you looked like almost like some feral mustang that had stumbled—”
“I looked normal!” I roared. “I don’t want to be some figurehead to be admired—I want to be like everyone else! I want to be able to live my life, the way I want, and not have anyone try to make me be someone I’m not!”
Luna’s gaze hardened. She lowered her head and stared directly into my eyes. I shrank back, but I could not tear my gaze away from hers.
“Princess Celestia,” she said slowly. “Since the moment you took that crown, you have been nothing like ‘everyone else.’ Now, you are a Princess. That means your life is not your own. And that you will never be normal again.” My gut twisted, and I felt my wings hanging, hot and heavy, by my side. “You had best make peace with that fact,” Luna said, raising her head again. “The sooner, the better.”
Loonie two, Cece zero.
Luna slowly straightened up, watching my expression. I glared back, counting the ways I wished I could make her suffer.
After a moment, Luna sighed.
“Very well, then,” she said, “you are barred from attending the Grand Galloping Gala.”
“What?!” I exploded.
“Grandmother,” Twilight cut in, “I don’t think—”
Luna stood a little taller, looking down at me. “You do not appreciate the gravity of your situation, Your Highness,” she said, her tones dripping acid. “If you insist on kicking against the pricks, then one must make them too costly to kick. And, since it seems the only thing you care about is spending time with your friends,” she spat, “that is the most obvious screw to turn.”
“But you can’t!” I cried. “Rarity—the dresses—”
“I can’t, can I?” Luna crowed. “Well then, the answer is simple.” She sneered down at me. “Fall in line,” she spat.
“Fall in—”
Luna grinned wickedly. “Ever since I returned,” she hissed, “You have done nothing but destroy your own position. Your subjects have no respect for you. Your guards have no loyalty. And if you insist on going down this path, Equestria will burn.” Her eyes glittered. “So,” she said, “If you really do want to be like everyone else, prove it and renounce your crown.”
Twilight let out a little gasp, and I stared at her in frank astonishment. She simply gazed back with a smug grin on her face.
“Since you’re not willing to put your money where your mouth is,” Luna continued, “the choice is simple: either cease this nonsense and act like a Princess should, or I will be forced to remove your temptations to misbehave.”
She stood there staring at me, and I felt a fire building in my chest. Who was she to—? What made her think she could just—?
Luna turned away, then stepped to where her dress lay. She picked up her hat and dusted it off. “If that is all, then,” she said nonchalantly, “I would be much obliged it if you would—”
And suddenly, something inside me boiled over.
“You know what, Loonie?” I growled. “Sometimes--sometimes you’re an absolute Nightmare.”
Luna whipped her head around and stared at me, eyes wide. Twilight clapped her hooves over her mouth. Her hat dropped to the floor, unnoticed. And I took a half-step backwards, my mouth hanging open in horror.
“Great-Aunt Luna,” I croaked, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“Be silent,” she hissed. I closed my mouth so fast my teeth clicked.
Luna stood there, barely moving, save for her expression. She swallowed several times without speaking as the muscles in her face twitched and seized. Half the emotions that I saw there had no names, but those that did—sorrow, rage, disgust, horror—and, yes, even hatred—terrified me.
Finally, after an eternity, she spoke.
“Princess Celestia,” she said, her voice barely audible.
I bowed. “Yes, Your Highness.”
She did not acknowledge my bow. “You will return to Canterlot by the next train. You will not argue this point.”
I nodded, not even daring to glance at Twilight.
“From now until the Gala,” she continued, no trace of emotion in her voice, “you will behave yourself. If you do anything more to compromise the authority and dignity of your office—if you set one hoof out of line—I will order the guards to bar your friends from the Gala, and to detain you in your chambers for the duration.” Finally, she met my gaze, and I quailed. “Is this clear?” she said.
I nodded again. “Yes, Your Highness,” I repeated.
“This will be the last time we discuss this,” she said. She continued to glare at me, and I bowed again, bowed so low my horn nearly touched the floor.
* * *
It was only later, after I had cried all the tears I had left into my pillow, that I realized I had given Luna exactly what she wanted. I had promised her I would act the way she demanded, and had agreed to the punishment that she had set if I failed.
That thought alone almost made me hate myself more than I already did.
Well, I thought, turning over in my bed, screw her. Her, and her ego. She’d got her way—but we both knew that I had won. In fact, she was probably back at her room in Ponyville right now, all alone with her ghosts, bawling her eyes out.
Well. I’d play her game, sure--but only until I could find a way to make her eat her words. And, for all I cared, she could just choke on those tears of hers.
