Her new bedroom was an almost exact replica of her old chambers in the Castle of the Two Sisters back when they'd ruled from the Everfree Forest; Celestia had always found the shades of turquoise and lavender to be cold and uninviting, but to Luna's more abstruse way of thinking they'd always represented safety and stability, peace and comfort. Calmness amidst the storm of dark magic surrounding them. The perfect environment, she'd thought, to relax in.
Sleep, however, was proving to be especially hard in coming this evening; every few minutes or so, Luna felt herself starting to drift off, but the sudden pounding of her heart or a strange, pressing sensation in the middle of her head would rouse her once more from the land of fitful dreams that she sought. One minute she was too warm, and the next, after shrugging off the blankets, she would suddenly find it to be far too cold. She twisted and turned, her long, sinewy legs becoming enmeshed within the perspiration-stained covers, desperately wishing that she was actually tired enough to fall asleep instead of being burdened with the crushing awareness that she was only tired enough to realise how tired she was. Every now and then, Luna managed to roll into one of her old pools of congealed sweat, and she grimaced inwardly as the shocking wave of wet coldness that thrilled through her brought out a series of goosebumps along her spine.
An impassioned sigh escaped her muzzle, but Luna suppressed it as best she could by burying her face deeply into the fluffy, silk pillow of her crescent moon-shaped bed; she breathed deeply, inhaling an odd musty scent mixed in with the sweet lemony fragrance of the detergent used to wash it. It took her a moment to realise that the smell was her own body odour.
Makes sense. I haven't showered in a thousand years or so.
Luna sat bolt upright, rubbing her weary eyes with the pointed tips of her hooves; she wanted to cry, but she didn't have the energy, so she settled for rocking back and forth. She wished she could pretend that it was her mother coddling her just as she'd done when she was a filly, but such fantasies were beyond the reach of her imagination at the moment.
Most of her thoughts were fixated upon the distant past and the immediate future.
Getting up off the bed and sinking her hooves into her slippers, she padded in the direction of the window that dominated one wall of the bedroom; she pulled aside the red velvet drapes and looked out on to the night, her keen beryl eyes taking in a few lonely points of light that punctured the otherwise pervading darkness surrounding Canterlot. The worst thing about the tiredness, of course, was that it lowered one's mental defences: all sorts of wayward thoughts – thoughts that she'd rather not have to deal with at all, let alone when she already felt incredibly vulnerable – fought for dominance. Silently, Luna pleaded with them to give her a moment's respite, but they refused to listen.
If only I could put them all in a box and banish them to the Moon!
The Moon was as beautiful as ever, and the ugly black stain that had marred its surface for a thousand years was finally beginning to dissipate. Still, Luna found it difficult to look at it. After having been trapped inside its coiling embrace for a millennium, she actually found herself feeling a trifle uneasy to be on this side of it again. As if … the masquerade might fall away to reveal that it had all been a cruel dream: her escape, Nightmare Moon's final defeat, her sister's desire to reconcile.
Almost as if she'd planning for this exact moment, a voice said, “Luna, am I interrupting anything?”
“Yes, Celestia, you are,” replied Luna, smiling thinly though her sister would not be able to see the expression on her muzzle from her vantage point by the doorway. She twisted her long neck around until she was able to see the outline of Celestia in the threshold: the waxy moonlight wreathed her tall, slender form, surrounding her with a pale aura. The passage of time had affected her – externally, anyway – very little, save the formation of a narrow, cautious cast to her purple eyes. She couldn't imagine what the years alone had done to her on the inside, though she was still as beautiful, as radiantly majestic, and as self-possessed as ever. Her ethereal, multi-hued mane flowed dramatically despite the absence of any prevailing current to affect it.
“I'm sorry, I'll leave you to it. I'd hoped that we might finally talk after you'd had a good night's sleep, but-”
“-But you sensed that I was unable to sleep and thought that I might need your company?”
“Yes,” said Celestia, lifting a foreleg but not moving an inch. She wrinkled her nose as the stuffy aroma reached her nostrils; though her cheeks reddened somewhat, she made no comment.
Turning to face her sister, Luna said, “Do you remember when I was younger? How much I enjoyed being on my own?”
“I remember.” A look crossed Celestia's face, as if a memory that had been buried for a long, long time had suddenly resurfaced. “I remember our parents had to practically kick you out of the house to make you socialise with anypony.”
“It seems like only yesterday to me,” said Luna wistfully, recalling their parents' frustration over her desire to remain safely tucked away in the library.
“I know it must seem very strange to you,” Celestia said, “but-”
“-But?”
Smiling crisply, Celestia discreetly scratched the back of her neck with a golden-shod hoof and said, “Actually, I don't know how to finish that sentence. It's just strange. I can't imagine how you must feel, being so … out of time.”
“I don't know how to feel either, but what I do know is that I don't want to be alone any more,” said Luna quietly, eyes half-closed. “I've had quite enough of that for one … actually, scratch that. For several lifetimes.”
“I can only imagine.” A tinge of guilt shaded the normally-reassuring cadence of her voice, but she forced herself to set her feelings aside: she'd had very little choice, and what was important now to welcome Luna back with open hooves. Changing tacks, hoping to lighten the oppressive mood that was developing, she said, “I thought you'd like to know, by the way, that I've started the legal processes to restore your title of Princess of the Night. There are some, ah, formalities to get through, but they shouldn't be too much of a problem. I don't think.”
Sagely, Luna replied, “Such a decision does require much time and thought. One imagines, however, that certain events will count against me. I would go so far as to say that particular individuals might never fully trust me again, and-” she stroked her chin thoughtfully, scrutinising her sister's expression for some kind of a reaction “-perhaps that would be for the best? One does not simply walk back into a position of power after … such a calamity as befell me.”
“It might help,” said Celestia carefully, not rising to Luna's bait, “if you were to speak to the ponies of Equestria. If they were to get to know you, see that you are not the monster of legend that Nightmare Moon has come to be regarded as, it would certainly help your case.”
“Dear sister, no amount of honeyed words would be enough to sway them, in my opinion,” Luna said sluggishly, her eyelids feeling heavy. “I could spend another thousand years convincing them that Nightmare Moon is no longer a part of my psyche, but it would only take one mistake, one misstep, one accident to undo everything. It would be better for all concerned if the affairs of state were to be left in your capable hooves.” She flashed a quick smile at Celestia. “From what I've heard, you haven't done so badly in my absence.”
“I think you're being a little bit unfair, Luna. They believe in me and I will tell them what I think: that you're more than capable of resuming your duties. Twilight Sparkle and the other Element-Bearers may also wish to speak out on your behalf having been responsible for your safe return. The ponies of Equestria will have no reason not to trust you.”
“Fear,” said Luna simply, offering her sister a slight shrug. “Fear itself has always been a justification to not trust somepony. I may have been out of touch for a while, but something tells me that equine nature won't have changed that much over the years.”
With a grim look, Celestia conceded the point with a sharp intake of breath. “Is fear also the reason why …? No, actually, let's not go into it right now.”
“Is that not why you really came to my chambers this evening, Celestia?” asked Luna a little too forcefully. She strove for calm, taking a deep, cleansing breath in order to relax herself. She didn't want to fight with her sister, but she did not want to be patronised by her either. “Yes, I may be a little fragile still following my return, but please don't hold back on my account. As it happens, the answer is, in part, yes.”
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean-”
“-I was afraid of being forgotten,” Luna said, carrying on as if her sister hadn't spoken. “Fear of never being appreciated, of never being seen as my pure, perfect sister's equal, led me down a very dark, very twisted path and the truth of the matter is that my recovery – should it happen at all – will not be swift. The shadows adopted me as one of their own, lending me their power, unity and sense of purpose, and I freely admit that it was such an attractive prospect to see myself lording it over you, Celestia, but-” she felt the prickle of tears forming behind her drained, empty eyes “-what I did was so terribly wrong that no amount of apologising, no amount of talking to the ponies of Equestria, will ever make up for it. I deserve to be punished for what I tried to do to you and to the land I'd sworn an oath to protect at all costs.”
“It wasn't you,” Celestia said, “and I think you've been punished enough for what Nightmare Moon did.”
“Is that what you truly believe, or only what you wish to be the case?”
“It's what I believe.”
For a long moment, silence reigned between the two sisters; finally, Luna could stand it no longer and she sat back on her haunches, releasing a long-held breath as she did so. It would take time to process everything – doubtless, she would have to talk to somepony to unload her many conflicting thoughts and get them into some semblance of order – but the simple fact of the matter was even she wasn't sure that she knew what the truth of Nightmare Moon's existence was any more. Or of the events leading up to her battle with Celestia that had so thoroughly destroyed their old castle and resulted in their long parting. “All I remember is so much anger, so much bitterness and resentment.” She looked at her sister again, a reproving look creasing her muzzle. “Please, Celestia, will you stop lurking in the doorway like a servant awaiting one's leave. Come in. Sit down. The bed's quite comfortable.”
“I wasn't sure if you'd welcome my intrusion,” Celestia said, doing as her sister had requested. With a certain amount of trepidation, she sat down on the bed, placing only the minutest fraction of her pale rump on the mattress. Even sitting like this, looking for all the world like a mischievous filly sent to the principal's office, she still managed to retain some of her regal and imposing air. “I hope you like the room. It was difficult recreating it from memory, and some of the details may not be as you remember-”
“-It's fine.” Luna approached the bed at a slow crawl, suddenly unable to meet her sister's inquisitive gaze. “I've endured ten centuries without your presence, dear sister, and I can bear it no longer.” Once she was close enough, she threw her forelegs around Celestia's slender, alabaster neck and held on for dear life. “Could things ever be as they once were between us? Even if I am unable to, for whatever reason, stand at your side as I once did?”
As Luna's head pressed against her breast, listening to her heartbeat as she'd done on occasion as a filly when she'd needed comforting and hadn't wanted to go to their parents, Celestia recalled their formative years; nothing had made her happier than those rare occasions when they'd be together, whether it was exploring the castle or the surrounding forest, or testing out their newly-acquired magical powers on each other, or driving their parents to distraction by staging food-fights at meal-times. Or even quarrelling tempestuously as even the closest of sisters did once in a while.
“My dearest Luna,” Celestia said soothingly, stroking her chin and guiding her head upwards until their watery eyes met, “nothing will ever be as it was, as life is a continual process of change. But the most important things, such as my feelings for you, will always remain the same.” With that, she wrapped her forelegs tightly around her sister, determined to never let her go again.
In Celestia's strong yet tender legs, Luna was finally able to fall asleep. Celestia brushed her sister's matted blue hair softly, making gentle cooing noises as she did so. “Welcome home,” she said softly.
