Author's Note
You will notice that one of the tags of this story is “Dark.” I decided to include this because of the mention of emotional abuse and manipulation (even though neither of which occur between the characters of the story), which is, in itself, a dark topic.
Lunar Lullabies
You sat a large, spruce desk awash with papers and books, furiously scribbling down near illegible letters on a piece of milky white parchment.
“Although, it is one matter to presume that Derelict Passion’s armies could have swept through what is today Vanhoover had he appropriated the proper reserves of ponypower and gunpowder for the operation, but another matter entirely to analyze what the actual result would be if he had corrected the aforementioned mistakes. As we know, Evening Sunlight’s forces had been ordered to stand their ground unto death, and thus, the actual Battle of Vanhoover was a massively bloody assault that lasted well into the winter and resulted in the total destruction of Passion’s Second Corps. Supposing he had the amount of ponypower and gunpowder that we have projected to have been necessary to secure the city, the result still likely would have been dubious at best,”
“How art thou faring?” A familiar voice reached your ears, causing you to smile as you set your quill down.
“Better than yesternight,” you say as you stretch your back, several audible pops filling the air. “The end may actually be in sight.”
“Wouldst thee mind if I had a read?” Princess Luna walked through the doorway to your study with a curious and yet still pleasant look.
“Please do,” you say as you settled back into your seat, silently hoping for her approval.
Luna quickly rushed over to you, snatching the parchment from in front of you with her magic as she sat down onto her haunches beside your seat. With her eyes focused on the paper, she stretched a wing out and placed it around you, its soft feathers feeling heavenly against your body as she pulled you closer.
“Let us see… hmm… mmhmm…” Luna’s eyes darted about the ink-stained parchment with laser focus, taking in and analyzing everything you had written with the speed and accuracy of a computer. Five minutes passed as she did this—an incredibly fast time for one to read one-hundred and three pages of newly written military history of a book projected to contain eight-hundred seventeen, but actually a tad slow by Luna’s standards—and when she did finish, she set the paper down gently back onto the desk.
As she did so, however, her face remained in its same position, staring seemingly blankly off toward the window at the far end of your study. You could not place the look in her eyes, nor the language or her body as she silently stared off into the vast expanse of land that stretched off into the horizon outside of the aforementioned sheet of glass.
“Anon… that… that was…”
“Rushed? Stupid?” You said, suddenly doubting yourself and your abilities as she seemed to be unable to find words with which to respond.
“Incredible!” she almost yelled as she looked gleefully at you. “I have not read such a riveting account of the Second Harmonic War since it was printed in the newspapers! The way you analyze what occurred and what could have been while also still depicting the emotion and impossible indecision of the commanders… simply brilliant!” She pulled you into a tight hug as you attempted to process what she had said.
“So… you think it’s… good?” You ask, looking at her confusedly but also hopefully.
“Better than good, my faithful companion!” Luna gushed, her eyes glowing with excitement. “I do say, thou needn’t be so hard upon thyself! Thou can most certainly write!”
You blushed at her praise, albeit only slightly as a sigh of relief escaped your lips. “Thank you,” you said contentedly.
“I must ask, though,” Luna began in a more serious tone, sending a wave of panic through your body. “Why thou art so critical and uncertain of thy abilities?”
“Well… I suppose I just don’t believe in myself too much, is all.” You said dismissively, only telling half of the truth.
“Thou dost not believe in thyself?” Luna looked surprised. “However would that be?”
You did not expect that question, but you could see as clear as glass as to why she asked it. You had never really shown signs of self-doubt to anyone for as long as you had been here, instead opting to overshadow it with an outgoing energy. A skill you had for the longest time was the ability to initiate or sustain conversation reasonably well, always talking in vivid tones and with great confidence to continuously give the illusion and facade of absolute self-assuredness. It was a skill you taught yourself after many marked failures at social interaction, and also a growing and ever-gnawing fear of what everyone else, particularly those important to you, thought of you.
Luna had been no exception to these tactics and these fears. When the Alicorn Princess of the Night had first discovered you, it had been at a local gathering in Ponyville on the eve of the Winter Solstice. You had initially chosen to live in that small town due to its quiet tranquility and peaceful nature, a life you so desperately desired after having left a world so full of noisy happenings and soul-sucking routines. It had been mostly how you had expected it to be; you found a quaint little home not too far away from the local library (a necessity to you—your love of books threatened to rival that of the Princess of Friendship herself) that was not too expensive and not too close to the hustle and bustle of the everyday citizenry. You found work as a columnist, writing short reviews on local products, restaurants, shops, and coffee houses in magazines and newspapers that tended only to circulate in a two-hundred mile radius. The local mailmare, Ditzy Doo, although a tad odd, had been extraordinarily kind in making sure your short little snippet reviews traveled well across that distance.
One day, you had been invited to the annual Winter Solstice Celebration by a rather eccentric mare named “Pinkie Pie.” Not wanting to look the part of a recluse, you accepted. Things had gone well at the party at first: nothing too crazy but also nothing too boring. Then, with a flash of lightning behind her, she appeared: on the back of an engraved chariot came the Princess of the Night herself, followed closely by one of Ponyville’s more famous inhabitants, Twilight Sparkle. The crowd had cheered ecstatically at their arrival.
It did not take long for Princess Luna to notice you (when you thought about it, it would be difficult to miss a pony in a crowd of humans, too), and immediately did you spark her interest. She asked you all about who you were—what you did, how long you had been here, what your aspirations were—and she had been mesmerized to hear your responses, so carefully crafted and cleverly disguised in an attempt to make yourself look like someone who had things under control.
When the celebration had concluded, Princess Luna bid you farewell with a sweet smile and promise to talk to you again in the future. The gesture had been kind in your view, but you did not believe that it would come to anything. Why would a being akin to a goddess who could control the very movement of the moon and stars take an interest in you?
But it had happened. She wrote to you several times a week, asking any questions she could think to—what your favorite food was, what type of music you liked, why you were so devoid of hair on your body—all of it was on the list of inquiries she sent you. You did not mind the questioning; it actually gave you something to do while you were not writing articles or strolling about the nearby meadow.
There came a day when you published a rather unique article. It was the thousandth anniversary of the foundation of Ponyville, and you decided to write a brief history of the town for publication in the newspaper. It was a simple task, as Ponyville had not had a very colorful history until quite recently, but it was one that you enjoyed doing nonetheless, as you had always enjoyed history, no matter where or when it was. This particular article caught Princess Luna’s eye unlike others had, and in her next letter to you, she praised your historical retelling with adoration that you would normally think would befit only royalty such as her. You soon found her visiting Ponyville again… and again… and again, often staying around you as much as she could. You became quick friends as your shared love of history and biographical accounts spawned countless discussions and even friendly debates as to what happened and what could have been.
Luna had been nervous when she asked you to come and stay with her in the Canterlot Castle, but that nervousness had been wiped away completely when you had let forth an excited “Yes!” followed by a sizeable and lengthy hug. The move was quick (you did not own very much), and when it was completed, you found yourself with the Alicorn Princess day in and day out.
Your relationship had grown stronger and more intimate as time went on. Kisses and snuggles became commonplace, displays of affection slowly but surely beginning to work their way into most situations. You two had become inseparable, scarcely ever leaving each other’s side even in sleep. But as your relationship deepened, so too did a nagging thought within your head: “What if I fail?”
Ah, the destroyer of dreams. That terrible and persistent question that digs in and does not let go, that drags down kings and kingdoms alike. You initially thought that confessing to Luna your fears would be easy, but no such luck was to come your way.
You remembered the times and places where you had made yourself vulnerable in that way back on Earth. A desperate cry for help had come forth from your lips as your very soul recoiled from the constant suffering that both you and others inflicted upon it. But what had you received in return? Punishment, pain, and emotional suffering. Your closest friends and most beloved family had kicked your fragile existence even while it was down.
You now looked at Luna with pleading eyes, silently begging her not to press further with her questioning. “Sometimes are better than others. I guess I just have some days where I think less highly of myself than others.”
“Anon… why dost thou hide the truth from me?” Her words rang out like a gong in your ear, shaking your brain and rattling your skull.
“...What?”
“Thine eyes, they tell me a different story than the one of thy mouth,” Luna said firmly yet without hate. “And ‘tis the eyes that tell the most truth of any part of the body.”
Why was she doing this? Why did she want to know? “Luna, please… I’m fine.”
“Anon,” Luna’s voice softened, now running smoothly against your ears and comforting your shaken being. “I love thee. Dost thou believest that?”
You did not speak, opting instead to silently nod in affirmation.
“There is something that has been eating away at thee, and it has been evident even from the night we first met. Thy mind is clouded with fear, though I cannot discern what it is rooted inside,” Luna hugged you tighter to her with her wing, pulling your chest to hers and your faces only inches apart. “I need to know, Anon. What eats at thee?”
You opened your mouth to speak, but no words left. Instead, something between a sob and a groan was all that escaped.
“Thou need not speak, if thou so wishest,” Luna whispered. “I can press mine horn against thine head and see for myself. Wouldst thou permit me to do so?”
You silently nodded, a tear dropping from your eye and onto the floor. Luna’s horn began to glow a faint blue as she closed her eyes in absolute focus. Slowly and gently, she touched her horn to your head, the sound of the magic emanating from it now surging across into and across your body.
For a few moments, nothing happened. Both of you sat as still as statues, locked in a seemingly eternal embrace of wings and magic. But suddenly, you were startled by a sharp gasp of pain from Luna’s lips, followed closely by a stream of tears that fell quickly down her cheeks. As the seconds passed, she held you tighter and tighter, choking on sobs and straining her eyelids as she stared into the void of your past. Seconds felt like hours as you witnessed her take in the fullness of your pain, your struggle, and your suffering, sending chills down your spine and worry through your head. By the time she was finished, you were being crushed against her by the brutish strength of her wings as she sobbed uncontrollably, burying her muzzle into your shoulder.
Several more minutes passed before Luna was collected enough to speak. With several deep breaths and a prolonged sigh, she rested her head where her tears had stained your shirt, occasionally rubbing her cheek against you. “M-my lands…” she muttered shakily. “Th-thou hast suffered.”
You did not quite know how to respond. Did you agree? Yes, indeed you had suffered, but had you compared to her? You had never been banished to the moon for a millennium. You had never had to live with the guilt of betraying your sister and your country. You had never had to watch on helplessly as you were shunned by everyone for something that they had every right to shun you for—compared to Luna, you had not so much a reason to complain, let alone cry out in anguish.
“Stop that,” Luna said, the pain of her magic still lingering in her voice.
“Stop what?”
“What you’re doing now.”
“What am I doing?”
“Thinking,” Luna stated frankly as she lifted her head from your shoulder and met your gaze.
With a curious expression and a cautious voice, you asked, “You… can read my thoughts?”
“Only when mine horn is upon thine forehead; even so, that is not the reason I am able to ascertain the nature of thy mind’s wanderings,” she answered, a tired but concerned look in her eyes.
You do not answer verbally, but cue for her to continue with a change in expression.
“Thine eyes tell me a different story than the one of thy mouth,” Luna repeated her statement from earlier. “You think that your suffering pales in comparison to mine.”
“Because it does,” you quickly reply, strangely eager to attack yourself. “I have not suffered as you. I have not known pain compared to you. Compared to what you have gone through, Luna, my life has been a cakewalk.”
“Lies,” Luna said softly.
“Lies? Tell me that emotional abuse and manipulation compares to banishment for a thousand years upon the moon!”
“Lies,” Luna repeated, louder this time.
“I am not lying! Your pain has been greater than mine! You have endured the branding and scorn of a populace for longer than I have known life! You-“
“LIES!” Luna used the Royal Canterlot Voice as she cut you off, ruffling your hair and sending papers to the ground. Her eyes flashed with anger for a moment, but immediately softened after a few seconds had passed.
“What… do you mean… lies?” Your voice cracks as you stare longingly and shamefully into Luna’s eyes.
“Anon,” Luna’s voice was almost a whisper. “The level of pain and suffering we experience is not dependent on the experiences of others. If we could draw the same lessons or feel the same things as everyone else, the world would be a perfect place. But we cannot—and thus, the most dreadfully painful thing we experience that we label ‘the worst occurrence of our existence’ is truly exactly that. If one were to look top down upon the sufferings of all creatures, they would not see levels of sufferings, nor would they be able to gauge the amount of suffering anyone or anything was in. They would only see suffering, and that everyone experiences it. Your trials and darkest hours are just as relevant and just as attention-worthy as mine own, because to you, you might as well have been sent to the moon for a thousand years or have been scorned and rejected by a population of ponies who are supposed to love you; your experiences mark the highest and lowest places of your life, and regardless of what you may think of their euphoria or severity, they are still the very best and very worst experiences you, and no one else but you, have ever had.”
“Dumbfounded” could not describe how her words struck you. “Paralyzed” may have been a better term.
“So please do not be so harsh on thyself, Anon,” Luna cooed. “You have suffered enough as it is.”
With a swift movement, Luna lifted you into the air and through the door, down the hall and around the corner, and into the Royal bedchamber. Here, she gently set you down onto the silky sheets, taking care to ensure your head did not strike the headboard. With another agile and graceful swoop, she slinked underneath the covers beside you, pulling you closer to her with her wings as she wrapped her forehooves around your middle. You could feel the beating of her heart as she embraced you tightly, its thumping putting you at ease and relaxing your tensed muscles. With a happy sigh, you bury your face into her fluffy chest, breathing in her intoxicating lavender scent as you run your hands along the muscles of her wings.
“Anon, I want you to know something,” Luna delicately whispered in your ear.
“Yes?” You ask, but because you did not want to open your eyes and move your face, your word sounded greatly muffled and came out as more of just a randomized noise.
Luna let out a giggle at this, but soon returned to her former seriousness. “Thou canst tell me anything. Anything at all. I will listen. Please do not feel an obligation to keep your emotions locked up inside of you: it will only lead to self-destruction. I am here if thou ever need’st me. I will always be here if thou ever need’st me.”
A short but deafening silence briefly overtook the air. Not a word was spoken, not a noise made: it was simply you and Luna, lying in each others’ tender and loving embraces.
“T-truly?” You broke the quietness.
“As sure as the moon shines in the sky,” Luna smiled as she said those words.
Suddenly, she pressed her soft lips against yours. Her eyes closed, and she pulled you ever more tightly into herself until no space existed between your bodies at any location. Although it had taken you by surprise, you eagerly returned the kiss, gently pushing and pulling against her lips as she was doing with you. Both your and Luna’s lips continued their dance for several minutes before they finally separated, leaving a ghostly and longing feeling upon both of you.
With a quick glow from her horn, all light in the room vanished, leaving the two of you suspended in a seemingly infinite darkness. Luna was still pressed tightly against you, however, and when you opened her eyes, you could still faintly see her thanks to the vague glow of the stars in her mane.
“Sleep well, Anon,” Luna whispered to you before kissing you on the cheek.
“You as well,” you murmured contentedly back. “I love you.”
“I love thee more!” Luna chirped. “Oh, and one more thing.”
“Hmm?”
“I cannot wait to read the rest of your biography.”
