When We Took Back the Stars

by Dubs Rewatcher

Rating: everyone
Tags: Sparkler, Dinky Hooves, Derpy Hooves, Twilight Sparkle, Slice of Life, Princess Luna, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 8510

Dinky Hooves has never seen a shooting star. Derpy thinks it’s time to give her daughter a Hearth’s Warming gift she’ll never forget.

Equestria hasn’t seen a shooting star in over a thousand years. Derpy Hooves thinks it’s time to give her daughters a Hearth’s Warming gift they’ll never forget.

Written for the 2017 Obselescence Memorial Jinglemas Twinglemas Secret Santa Sendoff, as a present for the fantastic FanOfMostEverything. Thanks to Posh for editing help, and for being the most lovable hugmuffin around.
Cover art by myself and Amber Spark, with a little bit of help from the Scientific Notebook Company.

Published 2018-01-01 19:50:06 UTC
Last updated 2018-01-01 19:50:06 UTC

"It was really, really cool!"

Dear miss princess luna

Hello. How are you? Are you excited for hearths warming? My name is dinky hooves. I am seven years old and I live in ponyville with my mom and my sister sparkler. I saw you on nightmare night and thought you looked very cool. I was dressed as a firefighter. I was very cool too.

Yesterday miss cheerilee (she is my teacher) told me that you would be coming to ponyvile today for a big party! And she told me too that this is a very old festival because you are very old. Miss cheerilee said that a long time ago when this party happened you used to make the stars dance. She said it was called a star carnival. I love to dance and I love stars! I think it sounds magne magnifa

Dinky spat out her pencil. “Mom!” she called over her shoulder. “How do you spell ‘magnificent?’”

Through the kitchen doorway, Dinky could see into the living room, where her mom was balancing a big golden star on top of their Hearth’s Warming tree. “M-a-g-n...” she said, inching closer to the tree. “I think there’s a C in there someplace.”

“M-a-g-n-i-f-i-c-e-n-t,” said Sparkler from across the kitchen table. She stuck up her nose, flipping a lock of hair out of her eyes. “Magnificent. As in, ‘I look magnificent today.’”

“More like ‘I look like a butt today,’” Dinky said with a smirk.

Then Sparkler stuck her tongue out, then Dinky stuck her tongue out, then Mom poked her tinsel-wrapped head into the room and said, “Hey! Tongues are for eating ice cream, not showing off,” before flying back into the living room and crashing into the tree.

Both tree and pony went tumbling down, but Sparkler caught them both in her magic and righted them. Derpy waved, eyes spinning. “Thanks, Sparkie!” She returned to decorating the tree.

Sparkler turned her attention to Dinky. “What are you writing, anyway?”

“It’s a letter to Princess Luna,” Dinky said, putting her pencil down again. “I’m asking her for my Hearth’s Warming present!”

“Aren’t you supposed to write to Santa for stuff like that?”

“I already wrote a letter to Santa, dummy! I asked him for a time machine.” Dinky gazed down at her paper with a grin. “But he doesn’t have what I really want: to see Princess Luna make the stars dance.”

Sparkler covered up her laugh. “Dancing stars? What, you think Luna’s just gonna fly up and start waltzing with one of them?”

“No, she’ll use her magic!” Dinky said. “Miss Cheerilee told me so. She says that Princess Luna can make the stars dance and sing and even fall through the sky! That’s called a ‘shooting star.’”

“Shooting stars are an old mare’s tale, Dinks.” Sparkler rolled her eyes. “They always try to make the Princesses seem stronger than they are to continue the fantasy that they’re they’re the best ponies ever, and we should listen to them no matter what, even if their economic policies are totally inadequate, and—”

“Mom!” Dinky called. “Sparkler’s doing it again!”

“No anarchy in the house, sweetie!”

Sparkler slumped in her seat and pouted.

“The Winter Moon Festival starts tomorrow night,” Dinky said, grabbing her pencil again. “Once Luna sees my letter, she’s sure to make the stars dance, just for us.”

“I hope so,” Sparkler said. “Otherwise it’s just gonna be books and a sweater from Gramma, like always.”

The tinkling of decorations in the living room stopped for a moment, then resumed again.

The papers had been reporting since summer that, this year, Princess Luna would be holding a Winter Moon Festival for the first time in over a millennium. What they hadn’t reported, until about two weeks ago, was that the Festival would be held in Ponyville.

With ornate banners and brightly colored posters hung up all across town, Ponyville had become a forty-square-mile tribute to Princess Luna. Golden moons and silver stars decorated every building near the center of town, as if a chunk of outer space had come and exploded all over everything. And in front of Town Hall stood a sign, hanging high for everypony to see: “Welcome Princess Louna!!Luna”

Whoever had written it dotted the ‘i’ with a tiny pink heart; Derpy smiled whenever she saw it.

But Derpy didn’t have time for admiration today. Not just because she had to get Dinky’s letter to the post office before that day’s mail went out, but because looking at all the wonderful decorations made her feel sorta sickish on the inside. Especially when she saw the big, beautiful tree in the marketplace, surrounded by shiny gift boxes, and thought back to their paltry tree at home, and—Blech.

Derpy flew fast enough for the wind to roar in her ears, but Sparkler’s comment still rang true. She’d always taught her daughters not to obsess over toys or money, but the fact remained that Hearth’s Warming on a postal worker’s salary was never an easy situation. Every year, she spent the holidays wishing she could make their dreams come true—no matter how wonderfully creative those dreams could be.

Gliding away from Town Hall, Derpy looked down at the envelope in her hoof, decorated with Dinky’s mouthwriting—one of dozens of letters she’d sent out that month, sent out to Santa, Princess Luna, even Princess Celestia. She’d delivered them faithfully for years, but had never heard of one actually being opened, let alone answered. Assuming they even reached Canterlot before Hearth’s Warming...

She sighed and let herself zone out, eyes drifting over the countless decorations for Princess Luna. I hope she likes these, at least.

Derpy kept that thought in mind for a moment. Then an idea hit her so hard that her eyes snapped straight.

She thrust her wings out flat to brake in the air, and landed on a rooftop. She whipped her head around to look at each and every poster lining the street below, letting the fresh idea set and harden into something more coherent: The longest night of the year started tomorrow, which meant that the Winter Moon Festival started tomorrow, which meant that surely Princess Luna had already arrived in Ponyville.

Derpy could deliver Dinky’s letter directly to the Princess, without going through the post office! It was mail delivery in its purest form! It broke every rule in the book, to be sure—the Ponyville Stamped Mail Enthusiast Club would not be pleased if they found out the letter had been delivered sans postage—but Derpy would do anything for her hugmuffin.

Jumping back into the air, Derpy flew up high and surveyed the town. A few ponies at the marketplace, some foals skating on the lake, Twilight Sparkle and Spike sprinting down the street with a checklist—There!

Five blocks away, just outside of Sugarcube Corner: a massive crowd of ponies, all surrounding a small clearing against a wall. That had to be Luna!

Derpy shot off towards the crowd. Time to find a shooting star—whatever that is!

By the time Derpy reached the crowd, it had doubled in size. Everypony and anypony Derpy knew was there, all craning their necks and rearing onto back hooves to get a look at the pony in the clearing. Derpy joined the flock of pegasi hovering in the air and squinted to get a better look.

Sure enough, in the center of the clearing sat Princess Luna, waving and smiling wider than the big cartoon tooth at the dentist’s office. Every so often somepony would step forward with a notebook, or a picture, or a baby, and Luna would pull out a marker and sign it. Cameras flashed constantly, and Derpy couldn’t keep her eyes straight even if she tried.

Derpy looked down at her envelope, then back to Luna. With all these ponies around chatting with Luna, there was no way she would have time to read Dinky’s letter! At this rate, she wouldn’t be free until next Hearth’s Warming—and then there would be another Winter Moon Festival and the process would start all over again!

She needed a way to get through the crowd, and have enough time alone with Luna for her to read the letter and grant Dinky’s wish. She could cut in line, but that was rude, and what if Dinky were somewhere nearby, watching? She could dress up as Celestia and call Luna away for a sisterly talk—she owned enough flour to paint her coat white—but becoming Celestia meant growing at least three feet taller, and Derpy hated high heels.

She tapped her chin, her face going scrunchy. What else could she do...?

An idea popped up. She didn’t need these ponies gone forever, just long enough to talk to Luna. What if she were to grab a raincloud, give it a kick, and let it pour for a few minutes? Everypony would rush inside, and Derpy would be free to deliver the message. Quick, easy, and safe!

She jotted down a mental reminder to reward her brain with a nice nap later; it deserved it after all the great ideas it had come up with today.

Derpy flew away from the crowd and towards a massive clump of clouds, hanging over the outskirts of town. Gray and puffy, the clouds covered the sky, dimming everything below.

She frowned as she approached. Even on the best of days, all clouds looked similar to her. At the start of winter, when every cloud went dark and bloaty like this, she had no way of telling the difference.

Still, she waded into the cloudfield with outstretched hooves, feeling around for the cloud she needed. It didn’t take long to find a wide and solid cloud, wet enough that Derpy’s hoof came away dripping from a single touch. Perfect.

She grabbed hold of the cloud, and with a wiggle of her tush, sped back to Princess Luna’s autograph signing. Once she arrived, still higher in the sky than any other pegasus, Derpy centered her cloud over the crowd and turned around.

“Sorry, neighbors,” she whispered, winding up for a powerful buck. “I hope nopony catches a cold!”

She kicked, and both hooves connected square with the center of the cloud. She felt a slight tingle—then came the boom.

A millennium ago, Princess Luna had waged a literal war against Equestria because she felt unloved. If only she had known what it truly took to be loved: standing in one spot and letting strangers take photos of her.

Grinning and waving to the endless crowd, Luna held down her screams. She’d given up trying to talk to ponies twenty minutes ago—she couldn’t hear even a sentence above the roar of the crowd. By her count, she’d signed eighty-three autographs and kissed fourteen babies. Only five of those babies cried, and only one spit up on her.

Most ponies, however, were content to simply stare, take pictures, or leave gifts at her hooves. Parents and retirees buying presents for the richest pony in Equestria; the thought boggled Luna’s mind.

This was her first visit to Ponyville since the Nightmare Night fiasco a few months back, as well as the eve of the first Winter Moon Festival in centuries. She’d only returned from the moon less than a year ago. These ponies barely knew her, and they still loved her. Just like she’d always wished for.

No matter how weak you truly are...

She threw the thought away and kept up her smile, kept her hoof raised high, no matter how badly it all ached. Celestia would arrive tomorrow, and she would smile enough for the both of them.

She held her breath as another couple approached and hoofed over two twin boys, each one smelling like some mix of formula and dumpster. Just a few more minutes, then she could end this meet-and-greet and head back to the hotel for some tea, safe in the knowledge that she hadn’t messed anything up, and everypony still loved her.

A sharp bolt of lightning struck a thatched roof across the street, setting it ablaze and earning a cry from the crowd. Luna dropped the twins in shock, but caught them just in time for another arc of lightning to streak down from the sky. It struck the ground nearby with a boom. Another three followed, striking street signs and lamps, and just barely missing the villagers.

As ponies screamed and scattered, Luna looked straight up. Lightning bolts rained down from a single cloud, hanging some thirty feet up. And next to the cloud stood a stocky gray pegasus, kicking away without a care in the world.

Luna zoomed up to the cloud. She knocked the pegasus away with a flick of her wing, then spun around and grabbed the cloud with her magic. Squeezing hard, she crushed the cloud like a tin can until it became a bubble of water, then tossed the water down to extinguish the burning roof.

The ponies on the ground kept panicking for a few moments more, until they realized the danger had disappeared. They roared; their cacophony filled the air louder than thunder, and Luna recoiled at the sound. But that recoil evolved into a smile when she listened closely, and heard the crowd gushing over how “powerful” and “majestic” she was. A smile tinged with a strange sense of unease, but a smile all the same.

Through the sound, she scanned the crowd, and found that psychopath of a pegasus laying on the ground, clapping and whooping just like everypony else. Luna’s face morphed into a deadly scowl, and she descended from the sky.

When she landed, the pegasus matched that scowl with a grin twice as big. “Princess!” she said, jumping to her hooves. “I’m so glad I finally got your attention! I wanted—”

“Stop.”

The pegasus’ smile wilted. “Huh?”

Luna advanced on her, head held high, wings flared. “I do not need to hear your excuses. Do you not think before you act? Or did you think it would be funny to set a thundercloud upon the fair ponies of this town?”

“A thundercloud?” The pegasus looked around the street, her mismatched eyes darting from scorch mark to scorch mark. “Oh, goodness. I didn’t mean to do this!”

“A likely story.” Luna stomped her hoof. “I have no tolerance for troublemakers, and even less tolerance for those who let their own ignorance endanger others.”

The pegasus took a step back. “I’m sorry.”

Luna stood over her. “Remember this: if you do not know how to control a cloud, you should not touch a cloud. Do you understand?”

“But I do know how to control clouds!”

“Do you understand?”

The pegasus fell back onto her rear. Staring at the ground, she said, “Yes.”

“Good,” Luna said. She stepped back, and for the first time noticed that the crowd had gone more silent than the vacuum of space. She closed her eyes and ears to block out their stares and whispers, and walked away, leaving the dejected pegasus behind.

Schedule be damned, she needed a nap.

Even in a tiny village like Ponyville, quiet was hard to come by—especially with two daughters who shared a bedroom together. This was one of many reasons why Derpy took Twilight Sparkle’s move to Ponyville as an act of some higher power. Having Twilight as a neighbor meant not only a new friend, but access to the silence of Golden Oaks Library, which stayed open nearly all hours of the day.

And after today, she needed some silence. Her “meeting” with Luna had left her shaken; she couldn’t walk, fly, or even see straight for an hour afterwards. Luna’s face when she spoke—eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring, teeth bared—Derpy only hoped that wasn’t what she looked like when she scolded her daughters.

So now, when she should have been out enjoying the snow, Derpy sat in a corner of Golden Oaks, surrounded by books about space. She loved the colorful photos of other planets and distant galaxies, sure, but she also kept an eye out for those words Dinky had used: “shooting star.” She’d heard of them as a foal, but never knew what they were.

She skimmed through the book, scanning the pages for anything mentioning shooting stars. When she found nothing, she set the book aside and moved onto the next. Maybe Luna was a big jerk, but that didn’t mean that Derpy couldn’t make Dinky’s wish come true on her own.

Just as she started her fourth book, the door to the library opened, and Twilight entered. She shivered and took off her fleece saddle, but waved when she noticed Derpy. “Oh, hello, Ms. Hooves. How are you?”

“How am I? How are you?” Derpy pointed at the frost on Twilight’s mane. “You look like a grape popsicle!”

“I feel like one. Are Ponyville winters always this cold?” Twilight asked, trotting over. “I should really conduct an investigation someday. There is no reason a valley town should be colder than a city on a mountain.”

Derpy giggled. “Sounds like somepony needs to buy a nice, cuddly scarf.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. After the Winter Moon Festival is over, and Princess Luna is safe and happy back in Canterlot.” Twilight groaned and let herself collapse next to Derpy. “Two weeks. Two weeks notice the castle’s planning staff gave us. I’ve been doing nothing but filling out paperwork for days, renting out event spaces and arranging catering, and I’m just about ready to take a nap until New Year’s.” She lifted her head just enough to gesture to Derpy’s book. “What’s going on with you? Picking out a book for Dinky? I just saw this novel about teenage werewolves that Sparkler might like—she’s in the target age demographic, at least.”

Derpy couldn’t focus long enough to give an answer. Twilight’s stress rant had put the image of Luna’s face back into Derpy’s mind, and her eyes rolled off in opposite directions. “Oh,” she finally said, “thanks.”

Twilight frowned. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes,” Derpy said, looking down. “Luna hates me and because of that Dinky’s Hearth’s Warming wish is never gonna come true.”

Twilight blinked.

So Derpy explained the situation, making sure to emphasize how great Dinky’s mouthwriting was for her age, and how scary Luna had been, and how she really hadn’t meant to set any roofs on fire, really and truly. All she wanted was a favor from Luna.

“I see.” Twilight offered a small smile. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Ms. Hooves. But to be fair, you did almost hit Princess Luna with lightning. I think anypony would be mad if that happened to them.”

“But what about Dinky’s letter? What am I supposed to do?”

Twilight looked away and rubbed her chin. “Well, I do know where Princess Luna is staying. I suppose I could deliver the letter to her. I can’t guarantee that she’ll follow through, though—nopony has ever recorded a shooting star through modern scientific means, so who knows if they’re even real—but we can give it a shot.“

Derpy gasped and wrapped Twilight in a hug. “Oh, thank you, thank you! You’re the best friend a pony could ask for, Twilight!”

“I don’t know about that—but I try,” Twilight said. “Now, do you have the letter with you?”

“Yep!” Derpy opened her saddlebag. “It’s right—oh no!”

Both ponies jumped up to look at the paper Derpy took out. Dinky’s cute pink scrawl had been smudged up, water stains rendering the entire letter illegible.

“I dropped it in the snow when Luna knocked me down,” said Derpy, hooves on her head. “It didn’t realize how wet it had gotten. How am I supposed to get the message to Luna now?”

Twilight spent a moment staring at the letter, then bit her lip. “You know, I probably shouldn’t ask this, but—do you have to get home soon?”

Derpy sniffled. “No, I’m free. Why?”

“Come on,” Twilight said, grabbing her saddle. “You might not be able to deliver the letter, but you can still deliver the message.”

Not even a full pot of tea could help Luna relax, it seemed. Not after she saw a flash out of the corner of her eye, ran to her window, and found a platoon of pegasus photographers outside the hotel, taking photos whenever they thought she wasn’t looking. She gave them a few harsh words and sent them away.

That was all she could do, she felt. These ponies saw her as a paragon of goodness, a goddess made flesh. They didn’t see her flaws, her weaknesses. For the first time in centuries she felt needed, loved. She couldn’t throw that away.

So instead of being mad, she lay down on her bed in her specially prepared Royalty Suite—all the term meant was that she had two bedside tables instead of one—and sipped at her tea. Deep breaths. If it was a good enough coping method for Celestia, it was good enough for Luna.

Then came a knock at the door, and Luna snorted.

She fluttered over to the door. “Who is it?”

“It’s me, Princess. Twilight Sparkle?”

Luna tried to smile. She enjoyed her talks with the young Twilight, but also knew that “relaxing” and “Twilight Sparkle” were not words often used in the same sentence. Still, she unlatched the lock and opened the door.

“Salutations, Twilight,” said Luna, nodding. “It is... good to see you.”

Twilight gave a speedy curtsy. “It’s good to see you too. I—“

The psychopathic pegasus jumped into the doorway, eyes spinning like binary stars. “I’m sorry! The lightning was a mistake, but I thought it would be rain, and I didn’t mean to hit you, I just—ooh, your mane is very pretty up close and when you’re not yelling at me.”

“Sparkle,” Luna intoned, not taking her eyes off the criminal. “Why have you brought this mare to my bedchambers? Look at her eyes: she is clearly out of her mind!”

“I’m totally in my mind,” said the pegasus, pouting. “‘I think, so I know I’m alive.’ A really smart pony said that!”

Both Luna and Twilight stared. Then Twilight sighed. “Derpy,” she said to the pegasus, “can you give us a moment?” Twilight stepped into the suite, and before ‘Derpy’ could protest, Luna closed the door in her face.

“Do you know what this mare did today?” Luna asked as they walked to the window. “She nearly sent half your village to an early grave!”

“Look, I know Derpy Hooves can be clumsy. Unbelievably so sometimes,” said Twilight, scratching the back of her head. “I mean, I haven’t even been here a year and I’ve already seen her crash through at least twelve windows. Usually butt-first.”

“And she hasn’t been arrested why?”

“Because we know she never means to trouble anyone,” Twilight said. “She might be a bit ditzy, but she’s also a wonderful mother, and a gentle soul. All she wants is to ask you for a favor. Turn her down if you have to, but at least hear her out.”

Luna tried to stare Twilight down, but soon enough rolled her eyes and said, “Alright. I will speak to her.”

“Great!” Twilight trotted over to the door, opened it, and let Derpy inside. “She’s all yours,” she said, before closing it again, leaving Derpy and Luna to stew.

Luna gave a weak wave. “Greetings, Miss Derpy.”

“Hi!” Derpy said, her voice like a bird’s chirp. “Can you make a shooting star for my daughters?”

A thick chill ran over Luna, as if the windows had been thrown open. She grimaced and turned away. “No,” she said, and waited for Derpy to leave.

“Why not?” Derpy asked.

Not many ponies would question a princess’ decision, especially not one given as forcefully as that. “Because I said so,” Luna said. She wanted to leave this topic behind as soon as possible. “I can’t just move the stars on a whim, because some mare asks a favor.”

“But what about the Star Carnival?” Derpy ran forward to meet Luna face-to-face once more. “I’ve been hearing about it for days now. You’re going to make all the stars move and dance tomorrow, just like you used to. All the books say so!”

“Books can lie,” Luna said back, her voice nearly a shout. She stomped her hoof, but Derpy didn’t flinch or recoil or anything, which only made Luna’s hackles raise higher. “For your information, the Star Carnival has been cancelled. Forever.”

She immediately regretted letting that bit of info slip, as it sent Derpy into a frenzy. “Cancelled?” the pegasus cried. “But that’s the grand finale of the festival! It’s what everypony is looking forward to! How can it be cancelled? How can you—”

Luna flared her wings and leaned in close to hiss: “Because I have lost control of the stars!”

The two stared at one another, quiet.

Luna felt her face burn pink. She growled and turned away again, flicking her tail in the air like a whip.

“Oh,” she heard Derpy say, like a curious child. “I’m sorry. Are... are you sick?”

“No, I—there’s no point in explaining this to you, Miss Derpy.” Luna scowled. She glanced back over her shoulder. “Why should I confide my thoughts in you?”

“Because I know how to listen,” Derpy said, sitting down. “And it sounds like you need somepony to talk to.”

Luna gaped—but soon pursed her lips and faced her fellow mare once more. If nothing else worked, perhaps this would convince Derpy to give up her quest for a shooting star.

“It is my fault,” Luna said, walking to the window. “In ages past, before I fell victim to the Nightmare, I held control over all the heavenly bodies, including the Stars. Their spirits, scattered throughout the universe, obeyed my every word. I built clusters, forged constellations with just a thought, spent every night painting the sky for all the world to see! But now...” She took a long breath. “Now, I cannot even touch them. Their spirits have rejected me.”

“That’s not very nice of them,” said Derpy, frowning. “Are they mad at you?”

“That is one way to put it. Our relationship was built on trust; when I became infected with the Nightmare, I abused their power for my own means and lost that trust.” Luna sighed. “I betrayed the spirits who had been my allies for centuries. There is no way that they will work with me now.”

She felt a wing on her shoulder. “Have you tried talking it out with them?” Derpy asked. “That’s what I do whenever somepony is mad at me. Like we’re doing now!”

“The moment when the moon rises to begin the longest night of the year—the moment when the Star Carnival has always begun—is the only time of year when my power is strong enough to reach out to them.” Luna shook her head. “But there’s no point in trying. I know that they do not trust me anymore. And there’s no point in holding a Star Carnival, either. All it will do will expose to the world how weak I truly am.”

“So you haven’t even talked to the stars since you got back, but you’re just guessing they’re still mad?” asked Derpy. “And since when are you weak? You’re, like, super tall! And you’ve got the biggest horn I’ve ever seen!”

“But how can I call myself the Princess of the Night without the stars?” Luna asked. “Without the power to sculpt the heavens, to call down a shooting star bright enough that the entire world might wish upon it?”

Derpy tilted her head. “No offense, Princess, but it sorta sounds to me like you’re giving up without even trying. I’m sure the stars know you’re sorry for being evil. Tomorrow, why not try talking to them? I’m sure it’ll work out! With a mane like yours, how could they not forgive you?”

Luna ran a hoof through her mane, and watched as the constellations parted at her touch. “Things aren’t that simple. Ponies look to me as a role model. For the first time, they all love me. What would they think if they saw me fail to call upon the stars, up on stage like that? I can’t let them down. I won’t risk it.”

“But wait,” said Derpy, ears going flat. “What about my daughter’s wish?”

“I cannot help.” Luna opened the door. “It has been nice speaking to you, Miss Hooves. But I am afraid that this is a wish that will not come true.”

Derpy wilted. “Oh,” she said, her wings drooping. She walked to the door. “I’m sorry for bothering you, then. See you tomorrow, I guess.” She stepped out the door, but then turned back to wave at Luna limply. “Happy Hearth’s Warming.”

Luna watched as she walked away, then closed the door. When the sound of hoofsteps disappeared, she returned to bed, and returned to her tea, trying to ignore the sudden nausea.

“‘But it was good to think he had this to come back to,’” Derpy read from the book in her hooves, “‘this place which was all his own, these things which were so glad to see him again and could always be counted upon for the same simple welcome.’”

She closed the book while Dinky yawned and snuggled deeper into her sheets. “I’m happy Mole got to have the Hearth’s Warming he wanted.”

“Me too,” said Derpy. “And that Rat got to share it with him!”

As Dinky blinked her eyes slower, slower, and slower, Derpy leaned over and left a tiny kiss upon her forehead, just next to her horn. “Goodnight, my tiny hugmuffin,” Derpy said, reaching for the bedside lamp.

Dinky nodded and turned over onto her side, but before her mother could switch off the light, said, “Did you send my letter to the Princess?”

Derpy froze in place, but made herself smile. “I did.”

“Do you think she’s gonna do it? Give me a shooting star?”

A long pause as Derpy thought over her conversation with Luna. She watched the slow fall of Dinky’s chest with each breath. “I think so.”

Derpy caught just the edges of Dinky’s grin, half-covered by the blanket. She yawned again and settled in deeper. “Goodnight, Mom.”

With a flick of the lamp switch, Derpy turned out the light and left the room. Out in the hall, the carpet swallowed the sound of her hoofsteps, leaving her alone with the silence, her thoughts, and the glow of the moon filtering in through the window.

When she finally forced herself into motion, she headed to the living room, where Sparkler was on the couch with a book of her own. Sparkler shot her mother a raised-brow glance. “Uh, Mom? Everything okay? You look like somepony just stepped on your tail.”

“Of course, Sparkie.” Derpy looked to the window once more, gazing out at the moon and stars.

The unmoving stars. The stars that would stay unmoving unless somepony named Derpy M. Hooves went and kicked Luna’s butt into gear.

“Mom?”

Derpy snapped back into reality, and immediately replied with, “I have to go out for a few minutes.”

“What? It’s past ten o’clock,” Sparkler said, pointing to the clock. “What’s going on?”

“We need...” Derpy let her eyes roll off. “...milk. We’re out of milk, and we need more. More milk.”

Sparkler squinted, her sharp teenage gaze boring into Derpy—then shrugged and returned to her book. “Okay. See you.”

“Get to bed soon!” said Derpy before grabbing her coat and running out the door.

Derpy jumped into the air and made a beeline not for the hotel, but for the next neighborhood over. She needed to make a stop at Bon Bon’s house first.

Luna flew through the Dream Realm, squinting to see in the dark. Long ago, the Realm had been beautiful—like a little slice of the galaxy transplanted into Luna’s mind, heavenly bodies and all. Without her connection to the stars, however, the Realm had gone dark. But for the glowing spheres representing each pony’s dreamscape, Luna couldn’t see a thing.

Before today, she hadn’t even considered it a problem. She could work in the dark with no issue. Yet, after Derpy, every minute spent without sight made Luna feel like a delinquent student. Like a failure.

Luna tried to tell herself that her sense of self-image was meaningless. As long as the public believed in her, she could go on. But what was once just a tiny seed of doubt had been watered and grown into a tree of worry.

shooting stars

Luna looked for a nightmare to defeat. Decapitating a few monsters would take her mind off things.

super pretty shooting stars

She blinked and looked around. Had she just heard a voice?

super pretty shooting stars that make you go wow

Luna woke up.

A pony hung by a rope and harness above her bed, just a few inches away. Black clothing masked every inch of her body—except her eyes.

“Derpy Hooves, what are you doing in my bedroom?”

Derpy adjusted her harness. “Um. Subliminal messaging?”

“If you do not go home within the next five seconds,” said Luna with a glower, “I will scream, and the guards outside my door will come to throw you in jail.”

“Please don’t,” Derpy said. “Bail is expensive.”

Luna rolled her eyes.

“Can we talk?”

“Perhaps if you remove yourself from my ceiling.”

Derpy flailed her limbs, but with her wings strapped to her side by the harness, just managed to swing back and forth. After a minute of struggling, she went limp, letting her legs hang low enough to stand on Luna’s chest. “Can you help?” she asked. “This harness is really chafing my thighs.”

“Oh, by the Goddess above...” Luna sat up and touched her horn to Derpy’s forehead. The world went dark around them.

Then the glowing spheres reappeared, and Luna lit her horn to illuminate both herself and Derpy, floating in an endless void.

“Welcome to the Dream Realm,” said Luna, watching the pegasus wobble. “There is no gravity here, so do be careful.”

Derpy had already spun upside-down. “Oh, that explains why you’ve gone all topsy-turvy!” She kicked her hooves until she righted herself, and marveled with wide eyes at the dozens of spheres flying past. “Wow. This really is amazing, Princess. You’re amazing.”

“Why have you decided to bother me again?” asked Luna. “To beg for a shooting star again?”

“Yep!” Derpy said, pulling down her mask to show off a beaming grin. “Except I wouldn’t call it begging. More like an urgent request.”

Rubbing her forehead, Luna said, “I admire your persistence, but this isn’t going to go your way. I am not exposing my flaws for all the world to see. Your daughters will have to go without.”

Derpy swam forward, nearly pressing her face to Luna’s. “Can’t you just try?”

Luna held in a curse and pushed the pegasus away. “Unmoving as they are, the stars are just as functional. The world went without shooting stars for over a thousand years; why are they so important now?”

Derpy frowned, pupils drifting off. Then she gasped and shot forward.

Grabbing Luna’s hoof as she passed—“Release me, you madmare!”—Derpy sped towards a bubble that was quickly falling through the void. Within the bubble: a unicorn filly with the same straw-colored hair as Derpy. Derpy tackled the bubble and held it close.

“Be careful with that!” Luna hissed, snatching it from her grasp. “You can’t just take the dreams of ponies you don’t know!”

“But I do know her,” said Derpy, clapping her hooves. “That’s my little hugmuffin, Dinky!”

Luna squinted, trying to translate the nonsense words she’d just been offered. “This is... your daughter, Dinky?” Luna looked into the bubble, watching the small filly play, laugh. She couldn’t help but smile. “I must admit, she is quite cute.”

“I know, right? That’s what everypony says.” Derpy pointed at her daughter. “But look closer. Look at what she’s dreaming of.”

Luna looked again. Even with only the tiny viewport the bubble offered, the subject of Dinky’s dream was clear: the stars. With wings made of the fluffiest feathers, the filly dipped and dived through galaxies and constellations. And the stars flew with her, tracing her path like the tail of a comet, burning in a hundred different colors.

The sight hit Luna’s heart like a sledgehammer. She dragged her eyes away. “Your point?”

“Don’t you see? This is Dinky’s Hearth’s Warming Wish—sure, if she doesn’t get it, it won’t be the end of the world. But if her wish does come true? She’ll remember it for the rest of her life.” Derpy sidled up next to Luna and draped a foreleg over her shoulders. “The stars are so marvelous and magical. Isn’t showing a little filly how beautiful the world can be worth trying your best?”

“The stars aren’t that great.”

“Do you hear yourself? Stars are beautiful, just like you.”

Hot in the cheeks, Luna scoffed. “Even if all this is true, I can’t just make a shooting star for one filly. It would be completely irresponsible.”

Derpy pointed to another nearby bubble, which contained a old mare looking up into space. And another, with a colt jumping from star to star, laughing all the way. And another, with a familiar lavender librarian having a tea party with all the constellations.

“It won’t just be one filly, you silly—ooh, that rhymes.” Derpy spent a moment smiling at her own wordplay, then shook her head. “You’ll be making everypony in the world’s wish come true!”

Luna paused, mulling over Derpy’s words, and the images of everypony admiring the stars. She sighed. “I must think about it.”

Derpy threw her hooves into the air, which sent her into a spiral. “Woohoo!”

Luna caught her by the collar and pulled her close. “But if this is just a plan to make a fool out of me in front of everypony, then you will regret it.”

“Of course not.” Derpy shook her head. “I never regret anything!”

Derpy tracked the growth of her daughters not by birthdays, graduations, or baby teeth lost, but by how easily she could carry them on her back. Sparkler had long matured past that stage, but Dinky was still enjoying her last few years as a second coat for her mother.

Dinky held tight to her mother’s neck as the Hooves family waded through the massive crowd that had gathered for the Winter Moon Festival. In the hours before moonrise, hundreds, maybe even thousands of ponies, both Ponyville residents and distant travelers, filled the streets to play games, eat greasy food, and be generally merry. The decorations and flashing lights had been doubled since yesterday, and Derpy’s eyes ached just staying open.

Dinky, meanwhile, didn’t hesitate to stare directly into the lighting. “Wow,” she said, beaming. “Can it be the Solstice every day?”

Sparkler blew a raspberry. “It’s not that impressive. Just a bunch of expensive hero worship.”

“Don’t be like that, Sparkie.” Derpy poked her with a wing. “Ponyville only gets dressed up like this once a year. Enjoy it!”

“Well—I guess it is sorta pretty,” Sparkler said as they passed under a massive golden wreath, trying and failing to hide a smile under her scarf. She looked to the side and gasped when she saw a group of her friends passing by. Spinning back, she asked, “Mom, can I...?”

Derpy smiled. “Sure. But find us again soon; I want us all to watch the moon raising together. And keep your scarf on!”

But Sparkler was already gone, leaving Derpy with her youngest. “Are you excited to see Princess Luna raise the moon, hugmuffin?”

“Duh!” Dinky nodded. “Of course I am! And I’m excited to go on the big wheel, and in the bouncy house, oh and I can’t wait to see the shooting stars!”

Derpy kept smiling. “I can’t wait either!”

“Ah, Ms. Hooves?”

Derpy turned to find Twilight Sparkle making her approach, now wearing a nice pink scarf to go along with her saddle, then craned her neck to whisper to Dinky. “Do you see where Pinkie Pie is, over by the bouncy castle? Why don’t you go wait in line with her, and I’ll meet you in a few minutes?” Dinky gave a speedy nod, hopped off Derpy’s back, and scrambled over to the line.

Twilight watched her go with a chuckle. “She looks like she’s enjoying herself.”

“I hope so,” said Derpy dreamily. She glanced over to the massive stage setup in front of Town Hall. “I just hope it’ll last.”

“Did you talk to Princess Luna?” Twilight asked. “What did she say?”

“Well, she’s not so super-scary anymore. But she didn’t make any promises. She seemed pretty scared of trying to make the stars move, honestly.”

“I don’t know about her being scared, but Princess Luna can be stubborn.” Twilight drew close enough to brush coats with Derpy. “Don’t be offended if she decides not to do it. I’ve been doing some reading, and I think I can probably create a shooting star illusion if I concentrate hard enough. That would be fun, right?”

“Thanks, Twilight.” Derpy kept her eyes on the stage. “But I believe in Luna.”

Luna would believe a Klugetown con artist before she believed in herself. She knew in her heart of hearts that the stars had abandoned her. And she deserved it.

She peeked through the curtain to see the crowd that had gathered. If Derpy Hooves knew the stories of the ancient Star Carnivals, then surely everypony in town knew, and was expecting a great show. What would they say if she simply raised the moon and left? Would there be riots? A complete cultural shunning of anything having to do with the night?

No, no. What a stupid thought. She stepped back and let the curtain close. All that would happen is that everypony would realize just how weak Luna truly was, and lose respect for her as a princess.

The silence backstage grew overbearing. She wished that she had asked Celestia to stay with her—

No! Celestia had held a thousand Summer Sun Celebrations by herself. Luna could handle this.

She darted back to the curtain. The shadows had grown long, and the sky had gone crimson. It was time.

She saw Derpy and her daughters standing in the center of the crowd.

Luna ducked back behind the curtain and cracked her neck, refolded her wings, and took a few long, long, long breaths. All she had to do was raise the moon. That’s all anypony is expecting of me.

Dinky’s dream replayed in her head.

She opened her eyes and stepped through the curtain.

As if wax had melted from her ears, the silence of backstage suffocated under the roar of the crowd. Thousands of hooves stomped in unison, shaking the foundations of the town.

Raising the moon went by in a blur of magic and biting winter air. Luna cast this same spell every night—the only difference here was that she had to make a show of flying high into the air, casting a great shadow across the crowd as the full moon rose behind her.

By the time she landed, the crowd’s cheering had quieted, replaced by wide eyed wonder at the moon. Luna watched them with a satisfied smile, and prepared to return backstage.

Then she locked eyes with Dinky Hooves, still gazing at her, smiling, waiting.

Luna’s legs locked. She stared at the filly, silently begging her to look away, to just appreciate the moon.

But then she felt the heat of more eyes landing upon her, more ponies wondering why she was still on stage, what more was there to this show, would the Star Carnival be coming next? Suddenly, the full moon became old hat. Luna landed back in the spotlight, with the whole crowd waiting for more.

She gulped, but found her throat blocked up by curse words.

She needed to leave. But if she left, everyone would know she had lost her powers.

You have to do it. Take control of the stars—show everypony that you’re a true Princess of the Night. Show them that you’re not weak.

The whole crowd seemed to go silent as Luna lifted her head, pointing her horn straight at the sky. She hadn’t tried to contact the spirits of the stars since fillyhood, but the astral projection spell still came easy, etched into the recesses of her mind like cave carvings.

She lit her horn and sent her own spirit deep into space, past the moon, past the other planets, until she felt the enormity of the stars surround her.

Their magic tore into her chest like a sandstorm. She hadn’t felt this pain in ages. It brought a smile to her face.

“Stars,” she said aloud, eyes aglow with ancient mana. She reared onto her back hooves, shot a foreleg high into the air. “O, you witnesses to the universe, you governors of light! Heed Our call and return to Us, so that We may mold the night sky as We see fit, and prove Our worth as Princess of the Night!”

Her voice echoed across the crowd, across the town, across the universe.

The magic burning inside her chest disappeared.

Luna recoiled as her spirit returned to her, and the mana faded from her eyes. Stumbling back, she heard the ponies nearest her gasp, exchange wary glances.

A thick murmur rose from the crowd. Heart pounding, chest aching, Luna cast the spell again, but this time her spirit didn’t even reach the stars—it bounced right off, as if banished.

She wanted to scream at the stars to let her back in. She had paid for her crimes as Nightmare Moon, and deserved to have her full power restored. She had to show these ponies, her subjects, that their princess was more than just a pony. That she deserved absolute respect.

But the stars stayed still. And the crowd just grew louder.

She lit her horn again, prepared to teleport far away.

But then she saw Derpy and Dinky and Sparkler, all watching her with creased brows, worried eyes. And the realization hit her, as if brought down from the heavens: this wasn’t about her. This wasn’t for her.

This was for them.

Just as the panic in the crowd seemed about to reach critical mass, and Celestia stood up in the back, ready to take the stage, Luna reared back and threw her hoof into the air once more.

And again, she released her spirit, but this time carried a prayer with her: O, stars, you great beings: let Us show them how awesome this world can be.

She lit her horn once more, felt the mana overtake her eyes. Let Us show them wonder, let Us show them beauty! Let Us stop thinking of Ourselves, and instead about the ponies We love—!

The sandstorm in her chest returned.

“Whoa!” somepony in the crowd cried. “Look in the sky—what is that?”

Luna snapped out of her stupor just in time to watch the entire crowd look up in unison. She looked up too.

Long, streaks of silver shot across the sky like javelins. Luna could barely follow one before another would appear in the corner of her eye. The crowd watched with her, gasping and cheering in time with every flash of light. Memories of laying down in the wild countryside grass with Celestia, laughing as shooting stars streaked overhead, filled Luna’s mind.

She reveled in the glee of the crowd, grinning wide. And her grin only grew when she saw the Hooves family huddled up close, eyes locked on the sky, oohing and aahing without a care in the world.

Luna reached out with her magic again, and found that she had regained full control of the stars. She simpered as she moved the Orion constellation overhead, making him ready an arrow in his bow. Time to make them see why all the stories talk about ‘making the stars dance.’

The Star Carnival continued for hours, far past anypony’s bedtime.

A few hours later, Derpy Hooves stood outside on her back porch, drinking hot cocoa and trying not to fall asleep. She would go to bed soon, but after the Festival, she needed some quiet.

“Enjoying the stars?”

But she would never turn away a new friend.

“If I had known how pretty shooting stars were,” Derpy said as Luna landed beside her, “I would have written you a letter myself!”

“And I still would have ignored it, up until the very end,” Luna said with a chuckle. She laid a wing across Derpy’s back. “Thank you for pushing me to do better. Had it not been for your persistence, I would have been content to let the stars stay still for another thousand years.”

“What a shame that would have been!” Derpy said, hoof over her heart. “But the credit should go to my daughters, not me. They’re the ones who push me, everyday. Ooh, I should go wake them so they can say hello!”

Luna stopped Derpy before she could run into the house. “Leave them be. They’re dreaming.” She pursed her lips. “That said—did they enjoy the show?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe. Dinky kept smiling and clapping. Sparkler couldn’t stop talking about it for hours; I haven’t seen her so excited in years! I wasn’t sure either of them would ever fall asleep again.”

Luna nodded, puffing her chest out.

Derpy beamed—but then gasped and pressed her face to Luna’s. “I just remembered: I still haven’t given you your present yet!”

“My present?” Luna asked, one brow raised. “Really, that isn’t necessary.”

“Nuh-uh. After the amazing show you put on, you deserve it. I’ll be right back!” Derpy sprinted into the house. After the family returned home, she had prepared a wonderful present for the Princess, hoofpicked just for her. Snatching it off the counter, Derpy headed back out and threw it to Luna. “Happy Hearth’s Warming!”

Luna opened it up. She then frowned.

Packed into the wrapping paper was a thick red sweater, decorated with dancing cats and flying reindeer and so many Hearth’s Warming trees. When Luna put it on, struggling to get it over her horn, it didn’t cover even half of her back. When she lifted her hoof, she pressed a small button hidden in the armpit that made the cats meow and light up.

“Do you like it?” asked Derpy. “It’s straight from Granny Hooves! A bit snug, but all the better to keep you nice and toasty this winter.”

Luna spent a few more moments staring down at her new garment, but soon let out a tremendous guffaw. “Thank you, Derpy,” she said. She spun around. “How do I look?”

Derpy nodded. “As beautiful as the stars above.”