For all of her sister’s help, Luna’s reintegration to Equestria was not exactly smooth over the first few years.
There was only so much one could do in a day to catch up with evolved societal norms, not to mention the leaps and bounds of technology after her disappearance. Even if her office, filled with the warm familiarity of her things from before, gave her refuge from the modern age, change was inevitable. New technology would adorn old—ancient wood.
Luna had been more than a little anxious of the adjustment, if she was honest.
Far more stressful to her mind had been the constant attempts at fostering more social relations from her sister. Celestia meant well, she knew, but being thrust into a myriad of gatherings across Equestria—and what an Equestria it had become—did not bode well for her learning of the many different standards they held themselves to.
But, as with all things, there were a few constants in the mannerisms and the crowds.
Most commonly in Canterlot, though still at a few other ‘upper crust’ gatherings, was a white unicorn with a long, pink mane.
Fleur de Lis. Or, to those close to her, Fleur.
The first time they had met, Luna had been incognito in Canterlot, donning the look of a pegasus and going by ‘Star Gazer’, trying her hand at her own reintegration. In all honesty, the disguise didn't hold up beyond introductions, but Fleur kept the secret all the same.
Luna saw her often enough amongst the crowd over time to start to catch on to the unicorn's dress patterns.
She only ever had one cane. Collapsable, but magically reinforced, and acquired after a leg injury that left her in its need. Fleur always dressed formally, but soon, Luna caught on to what made her change styles. In most events, the unicorn was clad in some light, flowing dress, maneuvering between talking partners around the stallion she entered with, Fancy Pants.
Friends, Fleur had said they were. And even if she had wanted Fancy for herself, the man was pitifully dense in that regard.
In stark contrast to her dresses, when Fleur donned her dress uniform, the flowing socialite vanished. In her place, a tense mare of the Guard kept a sharp eye over everything. Something worked her nerves up, and she felt the need for her suit's protective embrace.
It was no suit of armor, Fleur had lamented to Luna once, but it would do in its place.
Admittedly, Luna admired the shift in mood in some ways. Time away from active service and playing the part of an unaware, pretty face hadn't dulled any of her senses. Fleur became curt and short, sure, but that was more an outward mask slipping than a true shift. The unicorn had a protective streak a mile wide, and though her nerves had yet to be founded, she never took the chance.
Luna thoroughly enjoyed ignoring the rabble of entrepreneurs and self-minded fools in favor of her talks with Fleur and even Fancy Pants.
The two truly meant well, and were happy to help advise on her reintegration. More than a few bad actors had been pointed out by one or both, and Luna thanked them heartily for their service.
This time was one where Fleur donned her suit.
Luna hadn't heard anything from her yet, regarding her nerves. Fancy Pants merely mentioned it offhandedly. He hadn’t seemed worried, and neither would she.
On the other hand, Fleur standing alone on a balcony, overlooking a float parade across Manehatten, jaw locked with so much tension Luna swore she could hear it, did not bode well.
So, she wouldn’t let it get worse.
Some excuse slipped out of her muzzle, boring conversation with some corporate salesmare, anyway. Why would she need a generated, digital pet? Tiberius was real, and he was an opossum.
Still, Luna had her opening and made her way over to Fleur. Even with the best intentions, her old ornery streak still raised its head as she greeted the unicorn.
Fleur remembered the first time she met Princess Luna.
Despite her claims to the contrary, the alicorn's disguise was not flawless. Though she was a different type of pony and went by a different name, her mannerisms and looks were almost identical.
But, really, who was Fleur to spoil the fun?
And Luna certainly had fun with that disguise of hers.
More often than the Princess might admit, Fleur had run-ins with ‘Star Gazer’ out in Canterlot proper. Fancy was around for a few, and said she was ‘quite the presence to behold’. It took him a while to catch on.
In a more official capacity, Fleur most often met Luna at various social events. Personally, Fleur went to them to keep her ear to the ground more than anything else. Fancy Pants managed his connections, and Fleur managed her information.
And yet, the mare in blue kept stealing her attention.
Disguise and true self alike, the Princess of the Moon's deep blue coat was mottled in black freckles, seemingly all over her coat. Her mane held a twinkling imitation of the night sky, typically managed by a few braids—at worst, a simple ponytail. More often than not, a suit adorned her in favor of a dress, dark fabric contrasting sharply with the emblazoned moon of her cutie mark.
But above her looks, the mare out of time was kind.
Luna, playing catch up with the upper crust's norms, still managed to weave her way around the vultures and find who was trying to do some actual work. It was impressive, actually, and extremely cathartic to watch their hopes get swatted like flies as Luna picked at random who she masterfully dismissed and who she bluntly knocked down a peg.
Worries be damned, that mare spent her time preparing, learning of her ‘enemies’. Fleur could admire that. Add on the work she did to assist the few good eggs, and Fleur thought Luna was doing just fine.
And it was this place that her thoughts wandered to, alone on a balcony after she had excused herself from another party. A few new threads to look into were welcome, but her nerves just wouldn't settle.
Another fun day in her dress uniform.
There was a float parade that day. Various little mascots of Manehattan in balloon form, slowly making their way through the small metropolis. Her cane held tight in one hand, Fleur massaged her jaw with the other, trying to loosen her tension manually.
Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it—
“Sergeant.”
The barked greeting made Fleur flinch, and ingrained reactions saw that she stood at attention. A cool hand touched her shoulder, followed by the gentle laughter of the lunar Princess. “At ease, Fleur, and my apologies,” she managed through her mirth. “I wished to break you from what held you.”
Oh, if only she knew the thoughts. “No harm done,” Fleur said in turn. Racing heart or not, she gave Luna a smile as she refocused on the here and now. “I am sorry if stepping out–”
“Fancy Pants caught me up.” Luna left it at that; no more needed to be said to understand. Luna's hand left Fleur's shoulder, instead resting upon her cane hand.
The chill was soothing, and Fleur had no doubts of the intent. Just standing beside Luna brought a coldness that slowed her thoughts and let her be. Fleur let her gaze fall on the parade, once more trying to let go of her stress. “One of these times, the party is going to talk,” she poked with a teasing lilt.
Luna let out a small laugh. “Let them. It wouldn't be the first time nor the last.” They shared a grin, chuckling at the others’ expense. “Do you usually step away from parties to watch float parades?”
Leave it to Luna to break the ice by toeing the line. “Not often,” Fleur replied. “But I do have a favorite. Billows in the wind, dark as the night sky, and twinkling to rival the stars.”
Luna's hand squeezed. Fleur allowed herself a small grin. Two could play the game, after all.
Fleur went on, “Sometimes, though, I miss it. Hidden away, out of sight, or simply somewhere else. I suppose the night sky has to fill in for it, in such instances.” She spared Luna a glance as the hand soothing hers became tighter. “What’s the matter? Is the muttering of the crowd getting to you?”
“I’m having to consider which talks I need to be concerned with,” Luna fired back. A grin with just as much enjoyment crossed her face for a moment. “After all, not all of us can be enamored with float-watching, can we? Some of us tend to be more appreciative of how a dress suits another.”
Not one of her most well-constructed offerings. Fleur gave Luna a flat look, noting her own suit for the occasion. “Was that meant for myself, or for you?”
“Someone has to take over complimenting me when you’re under the weather.”
As if they were spiteful of the cold aura Luna gave off, Fleur’s cheeks flushed pink as she huffed and averted her eyes. Flustered, she may be, but if Fleur responded right… “My apologies for lavishing Her Highness with praise, I’ll be sure to rescind such things in the future.”
There. Another bout of Luna’s laughter, melodic and straight from the heart. And yet, for all the warmth it held, it was gone faster than she would have liked, fading out with a sigh. “Fleur?” Concern, for her. How many times had Fleur had a moment like this and Luna still worried? “Are you alright?”
Fleur breathed deep, letting herself sink into Luna’s chill and the combined sounds of the gathering behind them and the parade ahead of them. “No.” Lighthearted banter, a chill against the heat, and space to herself, and her nerves were still shot to hell. “No, I am not. But I will be.”
“Then I suppose that will do.” Luna's hand squeezed again. Gentle. Loosening the grip Fleur had on her cane, helping her attempts to force herself to relax.
Fleur hummed a grateful tune.
So what if she leaned into that cold aura?
Let the party talk.
Fleur had considered what she needed to be concerned with.
And by the wing that unfurled and wrapped her in freckled feathers, so had Luna.
