Princess Luna lay burrowed beneath her thick velvet bedcovers, deep in the dreamless slumber of one who has conquered a long and difficult problem. The clock on her nightstand ticked away the endless seconds of her rest, measuring her every serene, easy breath. Only the tip of her muzzle remained unconcealed, poking out into the crisp air of her chamber from under her pillow.
Inside the warm den of sleep, her forelegs encircled her chest in an embrace she would never allow herself while awake. She had fallen asleep knowing that the one pony who mattered most of all loved her. Loved her, and understood the hardships she faced every night after the moon was raised. With her mind free of worry, she had been sure that her repose would be untroubled, rich, and glorious.
An urgent knock rattled the panelboards of the chamber door.
“Whaa? Mmhmm.” Luna was not ready for noise. Luna was asleep. The noise could go away.
She settled back in, concentrating on how soft and warm her blankets were. She breathed in against the sheets, her mane cool and slippery between her face and the sweet starch. The bothersome noise was fading, fading …
The knocking resumed. A voice spoke something from outside, deep and rough like tree bark.
“…your Highness. I have a message from Princess Celestia. She urgently needs you in Ponyville. It’s a matter of great importance, she says, one that could change the course of future events for years to come! Princess Luna!”
Luna peeled her pillow off of her head and looked around. The alarm clock had run down, she thought. It’s totally wrong. It couldn’t be quarter of noon. That would mean she had only gotten six hours of sleep. Not fair. Not after how worn down I was after struggling through all of Sister’s duties.
With a sigh, she rolled up onto her rump and let the covers slide down her back. Matters of national security don’t wait for tired mares. She decided not to bother brushing her mane, and left her coat uncombed.
Let Celestia see me frazzle-headed, she mused. Let her see to what lengths I’ll go to help our subjects. Not that she gave me any time to freshen up anyway.
She put on her public face—stoic and aloof, but not too cold— lifted the door latch, and stepped out into the hall. The guard who had woken her hopped backward, coming to attention in a crackling of armor plates. His face was flushed from exertion, and fear of what it might mean if he failed to rouse Luna from her slumber.
“Please, your Highness!” he blurted. “Follow me immediately! Princess Celestia awaits you on the thoroughfare. If we make haste we can—”
Luna vanished, the blast from her teleportation spell forcing the guard to the floor. He took a moment to straighten his helmet, checked the ends of the hallway to see if anypony had been watching, and continued on his patrol.
She reappeared at the head of the thoroughfare in front of the castle, where she knew she would have a good vantage point from which to spy out her sister. Not that it would be much more difficult from among the throng of ponies out for their noontime meal, she figured. Celestia was not the tallest pony in the land, but she was nearly so, and her coat shone bright as fresh snow on the Canterhorn when she was out in the sun.
And there she was, sitting like a marble statue adorned with gold, watching a throng of ponies gathering in front of her from between two poles that had a banner stretched between them. The crowd seemed eager to reach her, but was being held back by a pair of guards. Luna could make out her sister’s broad smile from two blocks away.
The smile she now admired for how difficult it was to maintain for even a single day. Best to keep that one tucked under the wing, though. Any advantage she might gain from displaying how bedraggled she was would be lost if Celestia caught on, even though they had already come to terms with each other’s hardships. Such were the rules of sisterhood.
She scanned the faces in the ragtag line. All she saw were grins, and lots of hope. There didn’t appear to be any immediate danger, but Luna always preferred to collect all of the information at hoof before jumping to conclusions. She lifted off the ground with a few strong strokes of her wings, and glided to Celestia’s side.
“Sister, what—”
Before she could finish her question, the crowd cheered, long and loud. Some chanted her name.
“Mom! Mom! Princess Luna’s here too!” shouted a colt near the front. By Luna’s guess he couldn’t have been much older than four.
“I know, I know, sweetie. I see her,” replied his mother. She glanced up at Luna, blushing.
Luna looked past her, to the left and right. No pony was injured. No monsters were hiding in the alley between the bookshop and jewelry store. There weren’t even any clouds in the sky.
She turned to Celestia. “Sister, I was awoken by a messenger saying there was an emergency, and that my immediate presence was required. Although I was exhausted, as you can clearly tell by my … appearance …” She trailed off as Celestia smiled and pointed a golden shoe at the banner above their heads.
_
A Once in a Century Event!
Hug Your Princesses for Charity!
All Proceeds go to the Canterlot Elementary Schools Field Trip Fund!
Princesses Celestia and Luna Available
5 bits for one Princess plus forehead kiss for little ones, 9 bits for both Princesses
_
“You had mentioned that there was an issue regarding a fundraiser, left over from your turn at the Day Court,” Celestia said, as if she were explaining that the sky was blue. “I called you here to show you my solution.”
“Your … solution,” Luna spoke, managing not to roll her eyes.
“Yes! Is the sign unclear?”
Luna pouted. “But I was sleeping! I was so tired and …”
“Oh come off it, Luna! How often do we mingle with our subjects? Once a year at that stuffy Gala, twice if you count the Summer Sun Celebration?”
Luna glared. “You are forgetting the Festival of the Winter Moon,” she grumbled almost to herself. She flared her wings. Whispers and murmurs went through the crowd, passed from one pony to another.
“Fair enough,” Celestia conceded. “Three times. Hear me out, sister. During my time in the dream realm, I learned that sometimes our little ponies need us on a … personal level, and not only as leaders who settle their disputes and look after their welfare.”
At this, Luna relaxed, folding her wings and giving the slightest of nods.
“I thought this would be an excellent way to groom two foals with one comb. And,” Celestia continued, a twinkle in her wise, rosy eye, “need I mention how uncharitable it would seem to these gentle folk if you were to depart now for your bedchamber?” She flourished a hoof at the onlookers. Some of the faces were no longer happy. Indeed, more than one youngster was on the verge of tears.
Luna considered these for a moment, weighing the cons of breaking the hearts of foals and disappointing their parents, versus the pros of teleporting back to her room and tucking herself back under her comfortable, warm, most agreeable covers.
It didn’t take long for her to realize that Celestia had bested her. The morning would be spent dispensing hugs instead of getting her well-deserved rest, and there was nothing for it. She could only hope that no pony would be offended by her disheveled look, or the fact that she hadn’t preened or bathed. One comb indeed.
“Fine!” she griped. She plopped herself down next to a donation basket that had been painted with her cutie mark, refusing to smile at the pink hearts some pony had embellished it with. She crossed her forelegs and awaited the first customer. “Fine.”
Celestia smiled anew and motioned to the guards. At once they stepped aside to allow the crowd to come forward. The rough line that had been waiting for Celestia split into two; one for the Princess of the Day, and one for the Princess of the Night.
The first pony in Luna’s line was the colt she had heard exclaiming his excitement to his mother. But now that he was face to face with his Princess, to whom he and his parents said nightly devotions and cheered on from afar every Winter’s Moon, it was a different story. He sat and stared at her long, starry mane, dark and flowing high above his head.
His mother nudged him from behind, speaking gentle encouragements into his ear. Something she said made him grin, and she gave him a coin to hold in his mouth. He trotted forward, and when he had dropped it into the basket, sat and raised his forelegs to be lifted up.
Luna peered down on him. She noticed how the inward curve of his ears was exactly like that of his mother’s, and saw the confidence in his light brown eyes that life had yet to break. He trusted her. Princess Luna cared about him and his family. Princess Luna would never hurt him.
A memory stirred within her, strong but obscured by centuries of wasted time. Daring not to glance to where her sister was busy with her own well-wishers, she reached down and clasped the colt between her hooves, hoping she would be able to keep her voice steady.
To her, an alicorn with an alicorn’s strength, he was as light as a feather. Carefully she brought him close. When she felt his warm bulk nestle against her chest, instinct took over, and she lowered her muzzle to cover the top of his head. His damp mane and the sweet scent of soap told her that he had just been given a bath.
“What is your name, child?” she asked, concentrating on the sky, on the rooftops; on anything but where her memories were taking her.
“Water Bug,” he said into the silky softness of her coat.
“Water Bug,” Luna repeated, searching for the right words to say. She gave him a pat on the back. “Are you a swimmer?”
“Yeah, I’m pretty good, I guess. I’m six and three quarters!”
“Really?” she asked. She wanted to tell him she remembered being that age. She wished she could remember a single game she had played with Celestia in the bright green fields of newborn Equestria. Instead she said, “What a fine young stallion you are. I feel a mighty strength in you. Great things are in store for you if you do your best.”
With that, she lifted him higher and kissed him on the forehead. Those were the instructions.
“There you are, child. May you have peaceful dreams tonight.”
He gave her the biggest smile he could. “Thank you Princess Luna! I’m gonna practice super hard from now on. I’m gonna be the best swimmer in Equestria. I’ll show you!”
Luna set him down. He spotted a friend further back in the line, and scampered off to tell him all about what it was like to be hugged by Princess Luna while it was still news. The other colt squealed and started hopping up and down.
Next came Water Bug’s mother. She crossed the distance almost on her hooftips, a modest blush coloring her caramel cheeks. She stopped a pace short and sat down, mimicking by accident what her son had done. Rather than waiting to be picked up, however, she leaned forward, placed two cautious hooves on Luna’s shoulders and pressed her face against the Princess’s cold, black peytral.
Luna cleared her throat. “Come closer, child. You are in no danger.”
The mare’s face grew a darker shade of pink. She scooted ahead on her rump, but slipped off-balance on a tuft of grass. Luna caught her and slid her ahead the rest of the way.
“I’m so sorry, Your Highness. I was clumsy, and now I’ve embarrassed—”
“No pony,” Luna interjected. “I know you to be a good mare, true and devoted to her family. Your name is Crystal Clear, if I recall?”
“Yes, Your Highness! I’m from Ponyville. I clean swimming pools. Do you remember me?”
“Of course, dear one. I visited you two moons ago, or perhaps it was three. You had been troubled by nightmares most severe. You dreamed you were drowning, again and again.”
Crystal Clear nodded. “Again and again. But I put what you told me into practice. ‘Whether your hooves are on the ground or in the water, you’re in control.’ And I’m so glad I did. Water Bug knows his mommy’s okay now, and he’s doing so much better in school. He’s at the top of his junior swimmer’s class.”
It took all of Luna’s energy to fight her emotions down. “I am glad that the night is no longer something to dread, for you.”
Crystal hugged her tighter. “Thank you so much for helping out today, Your Highness. I didn’t believe for a second that you were against the kids’ going on their field trip. As a mom I know how hard things can be. It must be much, much harder for a princess. And the paper makes things seem much worse than they actually are.”
“Why … thank you,” Luna replied. “You are very kind. Hear me. Every mother is the princess of her children. May you have strength when times are difficult, and joy when they are easy. As surely as the night comes at the end of each day, I shall be with you.”
Crystal gave her one last squeeze and went off to find her son.
After her came a stallion, a unicorn whose dull coat was gray and thinned from age, and perhaps something more. He rushed forward and fell against her. The guard lowered his spear, but Luna motioned him back.
As her hooves closed around the newcomer’s gaunt, bony ribs, he lowered his head and began to cry. Luna turned to her sister out of habit, not knowing what to do. The look Celestia gave her in reply said it all.
See?
The stallion hadn’t given a donation, and Luna didn’t ask for one. She rocked him, massaging his wasted back with the round edge of her shoe. She knew of such ponies; ones whom she could not comfort or guide in the realm of dreams, for the nightmares they faced were their very lives. She let his sadness play out before venturing to speak.
“It’s alright, child. All will be well. You are one of our own, and we will tend to you as we would any other. Call on me or my sister when you are able. Tell us your story, and it may be that we can provide some manner of relief.”
He was silent for a time, gathering all the confidence he could. At last he sighed and pulled away. “I will,” he said, avoiding her eyes. “I’ll come to see you soon.” With that he walked quickly away.
Luna watched him go. There were too many like him, she thought. Too many like I was. Trapped by their shame.
“I’d say you’ve got quite the following, sister,” Celestia said, calling Luna out of the gloom of her thoughts. She had missed the next visitor, an older Pegasus filly who looked to be doing her best to display the set of shiny new braces she was wearing. Luna swept the stallion to the back of her mind and reached out once more.
So it went through the whole afternoon, and well into the evening. Many ponies wanted the attention of both princesses. The lines grew to almost three blocks long, but no pony seemed to mind starting over once they spent time with one of them. None remembered receiving one of these rare gifts in their lives, and since it was uncertain whether any would get a second chance, no pony wanted to pass up the opportunity. More than once, one would realize how long it had been since they had held their wife or father or brother standing in line next to them. ‘Better late than never,’ they would say, or, ‘It’s been too long’, and hold them until the line started moving again.
A group of Canterlot elementary school teachers arrived just before the last visitor pitched her bits into Celestia’s basket and nuzzled Celestia’s forelegs. The leader—the same mare who had organized the fundraiser with Luna—peeked at both of the golden piles and gasped.
“With this much money, we could fund the school’s field trips for the next twenty years!” she exclaimed, clapping her hooves as fast as a woodpecker’s beak. Her colleagues cheered, lavishing compliments and gratitude on Celestia and Luna for their help. The last donor giggled her agreement as she detached herself from Celestia. Giving Luna a parting wave, she skipped away with a happy heart.
Celestia stretched her wings, turning her face so that the sunlight could warm her cramped neck. “My! All of this hugging has put me in the brightest of moods! Isn’t it wonderful, supporting the ponies that depend on us?” she asked Luna. “How are you feeling?”
Luna could barely hold her head up. The lack of sleep and the emotions of the day had overtaken her. “Tired,” she mumbled. “So many faces. So many stories. My joints are sore. I feel like I’m going to … faint. I’m happy to have helped … but … I don’t feel good.”
“Oh stars,” Celestia cried, forgetting her moment of relaxation. “You’re all but spent! And I wanted this to be pleasant for you.”
Luna shrugged. “It … was. Just … tired …” She lay down and put her muzzle between her forelegs.
“My poor sister! If I had just given a second’s thought to how exhausted you must be …”
Luna felt Celestia come to her side. Two coins clinked in her basket.
“I have a small confession to make,” she heard Celestia say from above. “There was another problem I was hoping to resolve today. Do you have the strength for one more?” Two big, golden shoes touched the sides of her neck, inquiring.
Luna lifted her head, blinking and bleary-eyed. Celestia had seated herself, the still-bright sunset shining behind her so that all Luna could see was her shaded silhouette surrounded by a corona of light. With a tired smile, she raised her hooves.
The white forelegs slid down beneath Luna’s own, strong and sure as she remembered them from long ago. Memories awakened anew as the graceful limbs drew her upward. Images and sounds and scents played to her senses like the intimations of a dream: childhood toys, hours spent in sundrenched hills, flowers amid the bleached stone ruins of ancient cities, pale yellow, blue and violet, their names all lost to time.
The dream changed, becoming one of sunlit clouds, for now Celestia was holding her tight against the supple softness of her towering body. One of the golden shoes cradled Luna’s head, so that her ear was pressed into the velvet white coat. There she heard her sister’s heart, its rhythm slow and calm. Her other ear caught the quiet rustling of their manes and Celestia’s even breath. The dream had many facets: ocean, wind and sky, and everywhere the smell of sweet, warm bread.
With her other hoof, Celestia encircled Luna about the middle so that she wouldn’t slip. When she was secure, Celestia wrapped her tail around them both, draping it over Luna’s shoulders like a colorful cloak, letting the ends caress her neck and face.
“Sister, please …” Luna mumbled. “You’ll … put me to … sleep. Must … get back …”
“Shh. Just rest,” Celestia replied. “You’ve earned it.” She spread her wings, their long thick feathers whispering as they expanded to either side. Then, like the mighty doors of the throne room she swung them forward, enfolding Luna until she was wrapped ears to withers.
Celestia looked down, squinting in the softening light. Luna was all but hidden in her embrace, shielded from the noises and cares of the world. Protected, like Celestia had failed to protect her so long ago. She had said, yesterday, that they were closer now than ever before, but still her heart was full. There was so much she needed to say.
She felt Luna relax and grown warm, peaceful at last. The time would come.
Celestia lowered her head over Luna’s, and spoke into the cool evening air.
“My only sister.”
The clouds had turned a soft shade of pink with the lowering sun, and the air had cooled. The school staff had long since taken the donation baskets and left, thanking Celestia for helping the children, and asking her to thank Luna as well when she awoke. Celestia had watched them as they made their way up the thoroughfare, their long shadows reminding her that soon her duties would be done for the day. She hoped Luna would have gotten enough rest by then.
The sun had almost reached the point where she would have to take over and guide it below the horizon when she heard something. There was a tickle against her chest; a brief vibration and warmth.
She must be talking in her sleep, she thought. Not surprising, after all she’s been through. I hope your sleep was deep and peaceful, dear one.
The tickle came again, longer this time, and more urgent. The slender body began to wriggle in her grip. Alarmed, she let Luna work her head free.
“What’s wrong, sister?” she asked, searching for signs of injury out of instinct. “Were you having another nightmare? Was it the one about the schoolchildren and the teeth again?”
Luna’s shining sea-green eyes peered up at her, her sweet narrow face wreathed in white and pink and green, as young as it had been centuries before.
“You’ve perspired a bit. I’m stifling.”
Celestia felt Luna’s fast, short puffs of breath on the bottom of her chin and realized that she had been crushing her. “I’m so sorry!” she gasped, loosening her stranglehold. “Pardon me. Is that better?”
Luna paused to catch her breath, grinning. “So that was your plan? Use the fundraiser to wear me down, then capture me in your clutches?”
“No, no, I … well …” Celestia stuttered until she felt Luna chuckle. “Yes,” she conceded with a sigh. “We didn’t get a chance to hug properly after we vanquished Daybreaker and Nightmare Moon.”
“Yes,” Luna agreed. “We were interrupted by Twilight’s new pupil. And that wasn’t a hug, by the way. That was a death grip.”
Celestia blushed. “I’m sorry. I guess I wasn’t aware of how much I …”
Luna blinked up at her, her thoughts heavy in the air, but still unspoken. Celestia studied the gleam in her eyes, twinkling like stars beside a lonely moon.
The words came out before she could stop them. “Have I ever told you that you’re precious?” She brushed a swatch of her mane away from Luna’s face with her magic.
Luna smiled. “Only every other day when we were fillies.”
“When we were …” Celestia started. An idea nudged against her thoughts, the gentlest of seedlings pushing up through the earth to find the light. She looked to the darkened sky and realized that nothing had changed; though countless days had passed, with their monsters and sorrows and joys and grinding drudgery, nothing that truly mattered had changed.
“Now that I’ve seen the nightmares—the horrors—that you struggle with every night,” she continued, forcing her voice to be calm and steady, “I wanted you to know that there’s a safe, loving place for you. Of all ponies, I would give that to you first.”
Luna nuzzled her, a soft touch beneath her ear. “I wish I had been here with you all those years, to make your dreams more comforting. To chase your shadows away.”
It took Celestia a long time to reply. When she did, her emotions slipped free at last. “You ended my nightmare when you returned to me.”
Luna’s muzzle darted back to Celestia’s chest. When she felt the warm trails trickling down, she understood why. She rubbed the space between Luna’s wings—the spot she knew was always tight and sore from flying—not needing to ask now whether she was alright.
The crickets had begun their song in the green, giving accompaniment to the breeze and the faint banter of far-off city folk. Celestia listened, and soaked in Luna’s small, but fierce warmth. After a time she asked, “Have you gotten your breath back? Is there anything I can get you before you begin your duties?”
Luna lifted her face once more. She met Celestia’s gaze for a moment before turning to the side. “Actually,” she sniffed as she wormed her foreleg up into the vanishing light, “I wanted to proffer my own donation.” Her horn flashed. Two five bit pieces appeared in her hoof, sparkling in the golden sunset.
Celestia gave a joyful laugh and enveloped Luna anew, careful this time not to squeeze too hard. Luna burrowed into the soft tresses and feathers, deep within the fortress walls of Celestia’s encircling hooves. Only her snout poked through the shimmering wisps and rustling plumage. It would not do to be smothered again.
“When Sister hugs, she shares her whole self,” she whispered into Celestia’s ear. “Easily worth …” she yawned, “a mere ten bits.”
“With you?” Celestia murmured. “Always. When I look at you, I see myself. How could I give you any less?”
“And what would I be without you?” Luna breathed in reply, drifting back into sleep. She wiggled her ear against Celestia’s neck. “I can hear your heart. Tick tock. Tick tock.”
“And what is it telling you?”
“We’re … alive …”
“We are.”
Celestia turned her attention skyward, and with a short burst of magic put the sun to rest. Rather than disturb Luna, she raised the moon as well. She decided that the dream realm would have to look after itself this night. Her sister needed, and deserved, to sleep through until the morning. And she could sleep right where she was if she liked, and that would be just fine.
Celestia whispered toward where Luna’s free ear was hidden by her wings. “I hope I’m not too stale?”
She saw the dark blue lips curve upward in a drowsy smile. “Mmmm? Oh shush. I don’t mind. You smell like a … an old sunny pastry shop … bread … sugar, a little dusty maybe …” She yawned again, shimmying closer. "Did you know that long ago … the other fillies used to call me … blueberry muffin, because of all your hugs?”
“Did they?” Celestia giggled.
“Sister,” Luna went on, “I feel that, now that we’ve spoken … now that we have put so many moons behind us, since my return … that I can … I would like to …”
“Shhh, shhh. Not now,” Celestia pleaded. “Please not now. Let’s just enjoy the moment. We get so few.”
But her request went unheard, for Luna at last had succumbed to sleep. With her gentlest spell, Celestia lifted her little black crown, and tenderly kissed her frizzy forelock.
“Soon”, she murmured like a mother to her slumbering foal, and pulled her even deeper in.
Author's Note
Hope you enjoyed this!! There's going to be a sequel ...
