Speak to the Silence

by LysanderasD

Rating: teen
Tags: Princess Celestia, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Sad, Princess Luna, Adventure
Length: 8894

From past to future, beginning to end, the Voices of two princesses echo with the sound of memories.

Even an immortal needs to step back and think sometimes.

Contained herein are a collection of stories centered around Celestia and Luna, from foalhood to marehood, from the beginning of time until the very end--happy times, sad times, times forgotten and times better left forgotten.

Published 2012-01-03 04:30:21 UTC
Last updated 2012-01-15 18:47:15 UTC

The Memory Place

Speak to the Silence

a My Little Pony fanfic by LysanderasD

One: The Memory Place

The door to the guard barracks swung open, and the pegasus outside winced as he felt the heat of the sun-baked room move, with a slightly audible whoosh, out into the hallway proper. The evening sun was still glaring in through the windows, sliding slowly toward sunset, and though the world outside was slowly losing heat, this room, its color motif decidedly dark and with windows that faced west to the setting sun, felt to the pegasus more like an oven than anything else. He trotted in, grimacing, his red eyes glaring around the empty, smallish chamber. Of course nopony else was around; he’d met his replacement on the way here, and the rest of the Night Guard were out training. They’d be here soon enough, he knew, but his duties for the day, for all standing in front of the Moon Princess’ door all day to bar visitors that never came could be called a duty, were finished. Such was the fate of the low rung on the ladder, he mused, though not bitterly.

The room never looked nice during sunset, which was a pity, because it was the only time he got to see it. Rising early, armoring in the sporadic light of torches, training patrols, standing guard... he never really got a chance to see what it looked like at high noon, or better yet at midnight. The room was full of blacks and navy blues, and the beds (“Make them properly! You lousy buzzards, if I can’t bounce a bit off of that bedspread you’ll spend the night on the moon, so help me!”) had, if he might say so himself, a very pretty moon-and-stars motif.

His batlike wings fluttered, as did his tail, more subconsciously than anything, trying to fan the heat away from himself as he moved over to the shelf with his name on it. With a barely-suppressed yawn, he shook his head and brought a hoof up to pull off his helmet. There was a brief and very slightly unpleasant tingling sensation from his nose to his tail, and the illusion magic tied to the armor peeled off of him, leaving him looking more or less normal--bright gray, with a deep blue shock of hair for a mane which he could never do anything for. He still had the bat wings, but that particular illusion was tied to the armor, which he’d be getting off... if he could just... get his teeth... around... it...

“Galestorm?”

The natural pegasus response to a sudden threat is to move up, because ninety percent of the things that could possibly threaten a pegasus were insignificant at cloud height. This is a viable solution, as long as one is outdoors and had been raised in a cloud city, which he had, but in this particular instance indoors all it amounted to was a stunned pegasus impacting the ceiling and falling back to the floor with a heavy thud, wings splayed gracelessly, moaning.

“Oh my!”

His vision became obscured by an intense yellow-orange glow, and he felt the inexorable pull of magic yank him up and set him gently on his hooves again. If he had not been quite so dazed he would have protested; no pegasus liked being ensnared by magic... although his protest, if he’d made it, would have died in his throat as he realized exactly who was speaking to him.

Princess Celestia was standing in the doorway. Designed for, well, normal ponies, the door frame was slightly too small for her, and the pony called Galestorm could see her front legs bending to permit her to look inside. She was, for once, not wearing her perpetual serene look, with her mouth creased in a worried frown.

“I’m so sorry, my little pony, I... are you hurt?”

He shook his head, both to answer her question and to clear his own head and ringing ears. “N-no, Your Highness. I’m fine.” I went through worse in boot camp. “And... only Galestorm on duty, Your Highness, my real name is Breezeway.”

The Princess brightened immediately--literally brightened, very slightly. Only then did Breezeway realize exactly how much the alicorn stood out; the white and gold, never mind the aurora, stood stark against the blue, silver, and midnight black of the room. “Yes, my sister does have her... quirks. Breezeway, then. Forgive me if I’m wrong, but you were the sentry stationed near Princess Luna’s room today, weren’t you?”

“That’s correct, Your Highness,” he answered, swelling with pride. “Hoof-picked. Princess Luna asked for me specifically.”

“Did she now?” There was a pause, barely long enough for him to notice. The Princess’ expression didn’t so much as waver. “Have you seen her at all since this morning?”

“No, Your Highness.” Breezeway shook his head. “She returned to her chambers after breakfast but left again almost immediately.”

“Did she say where she was going, by any chance?”

The grey pegasus paused to think. “... Not exactly?” At Princess Celestia’s expectant look, he continued, “She told me to tell you, um, Your Highness, only if you asked... Well, frankly, I couldn’t make hide nor hair of it, but she said something about ‘going where only the first power could follow.’”

The expression on the Princess’ face changed instantly; the ever-present serenity had been wiped away by unmistakable gravity. The small frown was back, but this time he could tell it was not shaped from worry.

“Are you sure that’s what she said?” Celestia’s voice was as intense as the look in her magenta eyes.

“Positive, Your Highness. She was very... precise when she said it.” Breezeway’s ears had been ringing for an hour afterward. Strangely, a few minutes later, when he’d asked one of the maids if she’d heard anything coming down the hall, she said no, and added that the halls usually echoed with even the slightest noise; if there was anything to hear, she’d have heard it.

Breezeway had spent the rest of his shift trying to figure out exactly how that worked, and had come up with nothing. Well, magic, probably; he was a pegasus, he’d leave all the spell business to those with horns.

Suddenly the same orange-yellow glow from before enveloped him. He let out a whinny automatically, wings flaring, stopping just short of taking off (fortunately) when he realized that it had to be the Princess. Even so, the feeling of being ensnared in a ‘corn’s aura was liked being rubbed all over with small water-filled bags that were just slightly too smooth, shifting and rippling uncomfortably over his skin; his hair stood on end and one hoof came up uncertainly, but then it was gone, and he noticed his armor neatly arranged on its shelf. He shook himself to free his body of the last of the uncanny sensation. Like being held in a vicegrip and being untouched at one and the same time; softer than cotton and harder than steel. At least his wings were back to normal.

The Princess was speaking to him. He snapped to attention, but before he caught anything more than “good evening,” the tall pony had turned and left, the door closing behind her, enveloped in the same magical aura. He took one last look to make sure his armor was all in order before following her out, peeking his head from the door as he opened it. Though the hallways of the Moonside Wing stretched quite far in either direction, the Princess of the Sun had already vanished.

Having lived for as long as she had, Celestia had gotten very good at multitasking. Very often her body would set itself on auto-pilot, a kind of mental Come To Life spell, while all of her thoughts turned inward. And she certainly had a lot to think about.

It was funny, really, how Breezeway could say one thing and unleash a wave of melancholy that Celestia hadn’t felt in... well, centuries, she had to be honest. Had it really been that long since she’d even thought about such things? Running a country does tend to keep one busy, but there are things that should be remembered. There are always things that should be remembered. How long had she forgotten them?

Her subconscious certainly hadn’t. The instant the door had closed behind her, she’d Blinked, unconsciously, or tried to, her destination firmly in mind, but she found herself rebuffed by wards stronger than any normal pony could establish. The sensation of Blinking into a barrier was one she’d only felt a few times in her life, and she never did get used to it; it felt rather like smashing into a wall and shattering every bone in her body, if there had been a substance in the cosmos capable of breaking her bones; but at the same time it felt like diving into a super-soft, extraordinarily springy pillow, one that caught her, cradled her, and then very gently bounced her back out. The end result was somewhere in the middle, because when she finally pulled out of her introspection long enough to realize where she was, she was standing with all four hooves braced and wings spread, slightly breathless.

This was an ancient wing of Castle Canterlot, one that few knew existed and fewer visited, built directly into the mountain rather than out on top of it. It was protected by a dual set of Blinking Barriers; one that she and her sister could pass through, and one that even they could not pierce, forcing them to stop at the beginning of the hallway. Strictly speaking it wasn’t even part of the castle; the only thing connecting it was a passage at the west end that lead all the way up, under the streets of the city and through the walls of the castle, to a hidden panel in the wall in Celestia’s own bedchambers. There was a branching path that lead to Luna’s, but, with a slight sinking feeling, Celestia realized that she had never had it unsealed. Luna would certainly have noticed the tinge of solar magic gracing one wall, but she had never asked about it, and it was certainly beyond her to unseal it without brute force. Even then Celestia would have felt it.

The wing had not been visited with anything resembling regularity in centuries, though the lack of care was hidden by a very carefully-laid, custom-wrought preservation spell that kept the red- and blue-lined rug in pristine condition, and the portraits on the walls unfaded. It was dark here. Darker than it should have been. The candles on the walls had been set with a simple Everburning, and she had never seen any need to change it; the small hall was decently lit as it was. But the signs of her sister’s presence and her... tastes were unmistakable; the orange flames had been snuffed out and replaced by blue-black flames that seemed almost to be absorbing the heat from the already-chilly room. The entire chamber was coated in a blue ambiance that she could not define in any other way than eerie, and though she did not shiver, she could see her breath condensing as she exhaled.

Celestia ruffled her wings slightly, drawing herself up and borrowing some of the sun’s warmth, easing the cold away. She loved her little sister; she did, truly, dearly, more than anypony else in the world, but for the sake of the solar system she could not understand Luna’s idea of decoration. Everything looked depressing; sometimes she wondered how aware Luna was of the image she presented. Perhaps Twilight Sparkle had taught her a thing or two during Nightmare Night, because she seemed to have lightened up... very slightly since then. At least she had stopped abusing the Voice.

The Voice. Thinking about that brought her catapulting back to where she was, and why. Her body had been moving for her again, drawing her slowly down the hall. She could already see the mirror at the end, even in the low light; against the backdrop of the gloomy hall (though it was certainly not meant to be gloomy, she grumbled silently to herself), her white coat and softly-glowing aurora mane shimmered and stood out.

The mirror was the only thing of note in the entire wing; really it was closer to a single hallway with a mirror at the end. There were no other rooms, no other pathways, just a straight line from the entrance to the mirror at the end, a distance that she crossed in what felt like no time at all.

It was not much taller than she was; if she craned her neck the tip of her horn could graze the border. Nor was it broad; it was about twice her width, more or less exactly wide enough for her and her sister to stand side-to-side looking into it. That had been the intention, originally, though had not managed to happen before the Nightmare took hold and shattered what had until then been a perfect relationship. Along the edges, gold, silver, white, and blue spiralled together in intricate patterns. She stood before the mirror alone, as she had done before, wings carefully folded at her side, and stared into her own magenta eyes.

She always paused here; she wasn’t sure why. It seemed like the right thing to do; maybe it was in remembrance of the sister she had once lost. Even though Luna had since returned, and had even obviously visited this hall, the white alicorn kept her moment of silence, waiting for about two minutes.

Finally, she closed her eyes, took a long, low breath, held it in for a moment, and touched the very tip of her horn to the mirror.

quid primum et maximum Potestatem est

On the one hoof, it could be said that the mirror was the thing that spoke; it would not be wholly wrong. Yet the voice, if it could be called a voice, had not simply come from the object in front of her. Reality itself posed the question to her; the stones around her asked, as did the rug her hooves rested upon.

Silence descended: the kind of deafening silence that pressed down into her ears and begged to be broken; so she opened her mouth, speaking to the silence, and answered the question with a Voice strong enough to shatter any normal mirror.

Vox.

The surface her horn was touching shimmered and rippled, and with a roar it surged out, engulfed her, and dragged her in. She did not resist.

She found herself floating in space. No, she corrected herself, looking down. She was not floating. Her hooves were on a solid surface. From all appearances, however, there was nothing directly beneath her. She looked up, around, and her jaw lowered of its own accord. This was a view she had seen only rarely. She was surrounded by stars.

This was one ability of Luna’s that she had never been able to master, not even in a thousand years of practice. Oh, she could raise the moon, she could toy with the stars, but only in the manner of a toymaker who had to stick to a prescripted design. The stars were always the same, always constant, the moon always followed the same dry arc through the sky. Luna had admitted as much about the sun, once, when she had tried to guide it long ago.

Celestia stepped forward, her hooves impacting soundlessly on the not-surface she was walking on, eyes wandering around and examining her sister’s art.

And art it was. Sometimes Celestia had to admit to herself that deep down she was a little jealous of her little sister. She had said it herself, once; written it in the sky in a fit of fillyhood jealousy over some petty argument she couldn’t properly remember. Tia, you control one sun.

She was surrounded by tiny globes of light, ones that shimmered and shone and seemed to sing and wave and dance in a way she couldn’t quite put her hoof on. Galaxies swung ponderously around her, deep reds, blues, magentas, teals, colors she couldn’t even find a name for, all singing and dancing and celebrating. A very tiny planet swung by her snout, and she focused on it until it passed out of view, passing behind a nearby star. You control one sun. I control--

I control millions.

The Voice seemed to coincide with her memories perfectly. She looked up, forward, toward the stars that had Spoken. Two teal colored galaxies slowly swing toward each other before stopping a short distance apart. They blinked

thousands of stars were silenced, suddenly, a patch of space rendered dark and bare and cold

and resolved themselves into Luna’s eyes, the rest of her sister slowly appearing from the void. They stood mere inches apart, suddenly, which probably translated to several hundreds of thousands of miles; Celestia had never been very good with specifics.

Luna’s eyes, Luna’s whole expression, was decidedly displeased, and the stars clustered around her almost defensively.

“I wonder, sister,” she said finally, “how long it would have been before thou toldst me of this place.”

Celestia shrunk back, abashed. The ice in Luna’s eyes was unwavering.

“Of course,” continued the Moon Princess, voice dripping with sarcasm, “it takes time and thought to run a country. Things tend to slip one’s mind.” She huffed, one silver-shod hoof scuffing the not-floor.

“It’s a memory place,” Celestia said finally, softly, looking back up at her sister. “It’s a place where everything remembers...”

“I can see that.” Luna looked around. “These are the oldest stars, the oldest galaxies. They are sharing with me their memories, the things they have seen and heard and learned. I have watched the universe be born time and time again, Spoken into being. I have watched Mo...” her voice caught, and she trailed off.

“I made it for you,” Celestia added finally. “I made it when you were frustrated about having to leave the old castle in Everfree. You always had been attached to that place, and to Mother, and to all the ponies that had come and gone there... I knew you’d never want to forget them.”

But then you had a terrible dream, she added, louder than she’d intended. The stars shook a little. She closed her eyes. “You had a terrible dream, a cruel dream, and it took form, your form, and when everything was said and done I had trapped that terrible dream on the moon and it had taken my sister with it.” Her volume had risen with every word, but she had been careful about going too far, about Speaking too loudly.

She inhaled, calmed herself, and opened her eyes. Luna was staring at her still, although her aqua eyes had softened.

“But you’re back now. You’re back, and that terrible dream has ended forever, and now I...” She paused. “I want this to be... our place, Luna. A place where we can be ourselves, a place where we can remember, where we don’t have to rule.”

There was silence for a long time; magenta eyes stared into aqua ones, and neither one blinked.

“Do you remember Mother?” said Luna, finally, in a very small, almost foalish voice.

Celestia moved forward, finally, moved up and next to her sister, looking down at her. The Moon Princess kept her eyes downcast, and one hoof scuffed at the ground again. Very slowly, Celestia put out a wing and covered her sister’s back, drawing her into a hug.

I would never forget her, she whispered, loud enough to shake the stars.

There was a wrenching, a disorienting rush that lasted minutes or maybe days or maybe only seconds. The stars had gone out, and there was only darkness.

Let’s remember together, added Celestia, squeezing Luna reassuringly. She closed her eyes, and without being told she knew Luna had done the same.

Together, the younger alicorn agreed.

Together, they opened their eyes.

Author’s Notes

Obligatory disclaimer: the My Little Pony franchise, along with all related official material, belongs to Hasbro et al. No monetary compensation is expected or will be accepted for my efforts in writing this story, and I am in no way affiliated with or related to aforementioned company.

On more personal notes, I would like to thank

A. Muffin and Ro9ge, for being there to watch and prevent too many mistakes, and for pestering me to get off of my flank and actually work on this.

Alex Griffin and Azathoth of Rock, for the encouragement to write this.

Darren Korb, for composing the Bastion soundtrack, which is mostly what I listened to while I wrote this.

Now onto more general notes.

I am not sure I am happy with the end of this chapter. Do tell what you think; it may end up being revised at a later date.

I am not fluent in Latin, as you can probably tell. I’m assuming that somepony out there is; if you’d be kind enough to help by conjugating that question properly, I’d be your best friend. I’d also fix it in-story and credit you. Don’t worry; I don’t plan on using much, if any, more Latin in this story.

I cannot promise any kind of regular update schedule, being that I am a college student who seems to have a masochistic tendency toward taking classes that require hours’ and hours’ worth of paper-writing. I will at the very least try for a chapter every two weeks, and if I don’t hold to that, please pester me, but understand that sometimes I have to set pony aside for real life. Dammit.

The Blue Rose

Speak to the Silence

a My Little Pony fanfic by LysanderasD

Two: The Blue Rose

It was a spring sunset after a very cruel winter, and three alicorns, two foals and a mare, were walking down a road. To be more precise, only two of them were walking; the third was planted very firmly on the mare’s back.

They made an odd sight, though there was nopony to watch them. The eldest was a full-grown mare, plodding along at a very slow pace so the walking foal could keep up. Her coat was white on first glance, but on closer study it resolved itself into a very light cream color, offset by a deep crimson mane and very clear, piercing cerulean eyes. The hooves impacting the dirt road, partially hidden by her fetlocks, had the color and texture of pearl.

The filly trotting beside her, a wide smile on her face as she looked around with shining magenta eyes, laughing and pointing out every little thing, did have a white coat, almost shockingly so, with a flamboyant pink mane to match.

“See? See? Look over there, Lulu! Aren’t they so pretty? Those flowers, look! They’re your color!”

The foal on the mare’s back, also a filly, seemed the complete opposite of the one on the ground. Her coat was an imposing royal blue, her mane a brighter color, almost azure, her eyes a moody teal. She had her face half-buried in the mare’s mane, but one eye was peeking out from the mass of crimson, and as she saw the flowers in question, she pulled her face out of the mare’s mane and into view, smiling and reaching out a hoof. “Gimme, Tia!”

The white foal giggled, her horn lighting up bright yellow. A short distance off of the path, one of the flowers, a blue rose, lit up with the same glow and very gently detached itself from the bush, floating up and over until Luna’s hooves could grasp gently at the stem. She buried her snout in it, giggling, her back legs kicking at the air happily.

“How’d I do? How’d I do?” Tia bounced forward to look up at the mare, eyes wide, sparkling slightly. “Am I getting better?”

The mare smiled, a bright, sincere, loving smile. The world itself seemed to light up a little bit. “You’re doing wonderfully, Celestia... but you have to be careful.”

“Careful?” the white foal asked curiously.

The mare nodded, looking back over her shoulder. “Luna, may I please see the flower for a moment?”

“‘Kay, Mommy,” said the blue foal, in a significantly quieter voice. She relinquished the rose, which floated out in front of the mare, down to Tia’s level.

“Tia, this is a rose,” the cream-colored pony explained. “They’re very pretty, and they smell very nice, but you have to be very careful because they have thorns. See?”

The filly squinted, frowning in concentration. “I see them!”

“Somepony might hurt him- or herself if they hold it wrong,” the elder continued. “Not you, or Luna, or me, but a lot of other ponies are fragile, so always remember to be gentle.” She shifted her gaze to the rose, which shook for a moment, before a series of small tick noises sounded as the tiny thorns were stripped off of the stem. “But if you take off the thorns, like this, then it’s okay. Here you are, Luna,” she added, looking up over her shoulder again.

Luna had hidden herself in the mare’s mane again, but she reached out a hoof and took the rose all the same. “‘nk you, Mommy.”

“You’re welcome, dear,” she said, smiling. “Remember to speak up, please.”

“Yes, Mommy.”

“Just a little more, dear,” she added gently.

“‘m trying...”

The mare giggled quietly. “Well, you’ll get it one day, little starlight. Don’t run off too far, Tia,” she added. The older filly had bounded forward, examining more of the growth beside the path, bouncing around with seemingly boundless energy. At her mother’s call, she trotted back obediently. “Sunshine, I love you, but you’ve got to stay close to me, please.”

There was a gentle tug on her mane. She looked back up, then over her shoulder. One of Luna’s huge teal eyes looked back. “Mommy?”

“What is it, my little starlight?”

“Are we gonna stop soon?” The mare felt the filly’s hooves shift slightly, almost guiltiy. “‘m kinda hungry...”

“You can eat the rose, silly!” Tia beamed up at her sister.

“But... but... you got it for me and I don’t want to just eat it...” She frowned petulantly, her eyes shimmering.

“Well...” Celestia slowed, shuffling her hooves a little. “My hooves are starting to hurt, we walked a long way today...” she finished, very unconvincingly.

The mare giggled again. “You’re a kind filly, sticking up for your sister like that, Tia. I know you want to keep going, but we’re at least half a day’s trot yet and Lulu’s right, we should stop and get something to eat. And little fillies need their sleep, after all,” she added teasingly.

She could feel Luna nodding, but Tia stuck out her bottom lip. “I’m not a little filly!”

The mother giggled again, a hearty, happy sound. “Okay, okay, you big, full-grown mare, you, but your little sister is, so we’re going to stop when the sun goes down, alright?”

True to her word, when the sun set that evening, they stopped, right where they were in the middle of the path. The mare conjured up a flame that burned without wood, and Tia settled herself as close as possible to it with a kind of desperate huff. Luna had finally gotten down off of her mother’s back, though she had settled close to the larger alicorn, snuggled up next to her with similar desperation. The mare obligingly draped a wing over the filly, who settled down, sleepy and content, almost instantly. A hoof-full of daffodils, pulled from beyond the path, settled down in front of her, and she slowly worked her way through them, one flower at a time.

“It’s so dark,” said Tia finally, pouting slightly.

“Well, that’s because it’s nighttime, sweetheart,” said the mare gently.

“Well I like the day better,” decided the filly huffily. Hiding beneath the mare’s wing, Luna whimpered slightly, drawing back into herself.

“B-but I...”

“It’s warmer and you can see better and everything’s so bright and pretty...”

“B-but I think...”

“...and the sun is right up there in the sky...”

“B-but... s...stars...”

“Tia, that’s enough, now,” said the crimson-maned mare sternly. The white foal looked over at her with a kind of “what-did-I-do” expression. “It’s alright to like the day, but remember that the night is just as important, too.”

“I don’t see why,” muttered Tia, just loud enough to be heard, turning her snout back toward the fire.

With a very quiet, fragile sound, like breaking glass, Luna began to cry.

“Celestia!” snapped the mare exasperatedly, her wing pulling the smaller foal tighter to her side. Tia’s head whipped back around, and she cringed. “That’s enough, please! Luna, sweetheart, shush,” she added softly, turning to nuzzle the sobbing foal. “It’s okay. The stars are very pretty, I think so, too.”

“I...” Celestia shuffled her hooves. “I don’t see...”

Luna wailed, a keening, heart-rending sound. The mare pulled her closer still, whispering encouraging words about the galaxies and the auroras and all the pretty things that showed up at night, she enjoyed them, too. Wordlessly, she shot a glare at the elder foal.

“Fine,” she said finally, and very unenthusiastically. “The night is great, too.”

“Y-y-y-you don’t m-m-m-mean that!” Luna wailed.

“Shhh, starlight, yes she does. Maybe the night sky’s even prettier than the day, don’t you think, Celestia?”

“Yes, mother,” she grumbled, turning away again.

Gradually Luna’s sobs quieted down into hiccups, glaring resentfully at the alabaster filly that was very pointedly ignoring her. Her mother nuzzled her soothingly, the wing draped over her back helping her stay warm and gradually allowing drowsiness to settle in. Her eyes began to drift shut, but before she nodded off completely, she heard her mother saying something else.

“We’ll reach Equestria tomorrow, girls, I promise. Just think about it, lots of other ponies to meet and play with!”

“Sounds like fun,” muttered Tia quietly, obviously still in a bad mood.

“Just remember that everypony is different, alright? There won’t be anypony that’s quite like us, but make sure you’re polite and respectful. Remember your pleases and your thank yous, and speak only when you’re spoken to. Alright, girls?”

“Yes, mother,” said Celestia sleepily. Luna nodded, unable to find the energy to speak, and the last thing she felt before her eyes drifted shut completely was one more reassuring squeeze from her mother’s wing.

As it happened, the first pony to see them, around noon the next day, was a pegasus. The mare could see him up in the sky, about cloud level, and it was clear that he could see them, too. She saw him pause, and then he began to to circle downwards, closer and closer. Green, she decided when he got close enough; he had to be green, similar enough to the color of the sky that she hadn’t been able to tell at first.

“Greetings!” she called up to him when she felt he was near enough. Luna, once again upon her back, buried herself self-consciously into her mother’s mane. The pegasus, however, did not reply: having reached a comfortable height, he hovered in place for several seconds, scrutinizing her, before flying off eastward, the direction they’d been walking in the first place.

“The least he could have done is said hi,” said Tia grumpily.

“I’m sure he was very surprised, at least,” said her mother with the hint of a smile on her lips. “Well, they know we’re coming now, at any rate. I think we can expect a welcoming party within the hour.”

It was in fact marginally sooner than that. They had been walking for another thirty minutes when a dark smudge appeared on the horizon, and within fifteen it resolved itself into a crowd of ponies--pegasi, unicorns, and earth ponies alike--all standing rigidly at attention, and all wearing what Luna supposed--peering warily through the mass of crimson--were military uniforms, like her mother had predicted.

Except the one in the center.

This one was a unicorn, a dark green with yellow eyes and a grey, almost-white mane, fluffy like cotton. She alone was looking at them with something approaching wonder, as opposed to the mistrustful glares of the soldiers. It was only when her mother finally came to a stop a short distance away that Luna realized exactly how small she really was: the mare was taller than Tia by a good head, but likewise her mother was taller than the mare by at least as much.

There was a very long, slightly awkward silence. Luna could hear Tia shuffling her hooves impatiently.

“Who might you be, little pony?” said her mother, finally, and Luna could hear the barely-suppressed grin in her voice.

The little mare gaped up at her for a second longer before finally realizing she’d been spoken to. She cleared her throat, opened her mouth, and produced something that sounded fairly close to “Urrrrrrr...”

“Try again, dear,” said her mother kindly.

“M...my name...” said the mare, more slowly this time, “is C-Clover. Um, Clover the Clever.” She had started out hesitant, but as she continued she seemed to grow more confident. “Apprentice to Starswirl the Bearded and grand vizier of the former unicorn nation, advisor to and representative of Her Highness Princess Platinum of the Equestrian Triumvirate. I have been selected by the triumvirate to be the, uh, ambassador... so... to... speak...” she trailed off.

“That’s quite a lot of responsibility for one so young,” said Luna’s mother graciously. “Now, might I ask why, dear, you brought so many soldiers with you? There are, after all, only three of us.”

“If I may,” said one of the pegasus soldiers, a tall, imposing stallion with slate-grey eyes and an obsidian coat. Clover jumped slightly as he spoke, but turned her head to him and nodded. “Colonel Strike, ma’am, acting commander of the pegasus forces and representative of Commander Hurricane. The Commander was mistrustful when he heard of your coming, ma’am, considering your...unusual appearance and the fact that the unicorns could feel your approach from several miles off.”

“Well, pardon me, then, colonel,” she replied smoothly. “I didn’t mean to be so loud.”

“Loud...?” the pegasus echoed blankly for a second, before snapping to attention again. “He immediately requested that the ambassador be accompanied by a number of guards. Not to be outdone, the unicorns echoed the demand, as did the earth ponies.”

“Well, caution is all well and good, sir, but I am only one mare and I mean you no harm.” The alicorn looked at her two daughters. “And these two are naught but foals...”

“What are you?” blurted Clover suddenly, and then snapped a hoof to her snout. Strike glared at her harshly, and she seemed to fold in on herself slightly.

The mare looked down at her for a long moment, and a silence, slightly oppressive, descended over the entire group. Several of the soldiers fidgeted uncomfortably. Finally, she opened her mouth.

I am the one who Speaks.

The ground shook slightly and for the briefest moment the air around them screamed as if in a tremendous storm. Every pony in the crowd took a step back, and some took two, gaping at her open-mouthed.

“But,” she added in a normal voice, “if you mean my race, then ‘alicorn’ will do.”

“Sp...speaks?” asked the pegasus colonel, sounding winded.

Clover, however, had regained her composure nearly immediately, and while the rest of the ponies gathered themselves, straightening manes and in some cases retrieving lost helmets that had been blown off in the momentary galestorm, she had been busy muttering to herself.

“What is it, unicorn?” snapped Strike with impatience born from shock. Clover seemed not to hear him. “Speak!” he yelped.

“That’s exactly it,” said Clover suddenly. “Speaking. Sound. Sound is...” She looked back up at the alicorn, a look closer to dread than awe slowly working its way onto her face. “Oh my.”

The alicorn simply smiled. Tia and Luna were glancing back and forth between the two, confused. Why had they been so bothered when mother had Spoken? Had they never heard it before?...

“Colonel,” said Clover, very slowly, “we should take them back to speak to the triumvirate.”

“What!?” The pegasus whinnied, wings splayed, stomping his hooves. “But we’ve barely learned a thing--”

“I don’t know about you, sir, but I’ve learned everything I wanted to know.”

The pegasus seemed about to complain again, but Clover turned to look at him. Luna could not see her expression from here, but whatever it was, it was enough to make the obsidian pony blanche very slightly. He nodded.

“V-very well then. Miss... Speaker. I would ask that you... accompany us to the city, and we will... deliberate further there.”

“Most certainly, colonel,” said Luna’s mother, nodding her head. “By the way, I believe I have yet to introduce you to my daughters. This one,” she said, gesturing, “is Celestia.”

The white foal swelled slightly.

“And this... Dear, please, they aren’t going to hurt you? Please?”

Very carefully, Luna pulled her face from her mother’s mane, looking warily at the massed soldiers.

“Forgive her. She’s very shy. This is Luna.”

“Luna...” echoed Clover thoughtfully, taking a small step forward. The timidity she had displayed before now seemed to melt away at the sight of the blue foal. “That’s a pretty name, and you’re certainly a very pretty little filly.”

Luna stared back at her, head tilted slightly. The alicorn mare held her breath.

“‘nk you,” she replied finally, blushing furiously as she did, burying her snout in her mother’s mane once more.

“She’s so cuuuuuute!” gushed Clover, bouncing giddily in place, giggling like a filly. The alicorn smiled; but when the pegasus colonel cleared his throat impatiently all of the mirth seemed to drain out of her and she coughed nervously into a hoof. “I... I mean... This way, please.”

The soldiers fanned out and surrounded them, the entire entourage looking somewhat strange with the tall alicorn standing in the middle, and without another word they began to walk.

Author’s Notes

Two chapters in a week. Yes. This makes me happy. But I probably won’t be able to do it again; classes resume for me on Monday, and I’ll be hard-pressed to find time to work on this. I’ll do my best, though, I promise.

I apologize for any excessive d’aww, HNNNNGH, or other cute-related impairments caused by this chapter. Woona, why you so adorableeeeeeee? Incidentally, in the original document and on Google Docs, Luna's dialogue is in a smaller font to signify how quietly she speaks, but unfortunately I cannot do that on FIMFiction.

Again, thanks to A. Muffin for keeping up with me as I wrote this and helping me correct the more glaring mistakes.

Also grateful to Motoi Sakuraba and Shinji Tamura for composing music for the Tales of games, which was mostly what I listened to while writing this particular chapter.

The My Little Pony franchise and all related official material belong to Hasbro et al, and I am in no way affiliated with them. No monetary compensation is expected or will be accepted for my work in writing this fanfic.

What Seemed to You an Instant

Speak to the Silence

A My Little Pony fanfic by LysanderasD

Three: What Seemed to You an Instant

She was half afraid that when they finally made it back to Canterlot that morning there would be crowds waiting at the castle gate demanding answers, answers she would be obligated to give: why had the night lasted so long? Why was there another alicorn? Who was she? Was that really Princess Luna? Princess Luna, who’s that? Who?

Thankfully, there were no crowds. The castle grounds looked cold and empty from the chariot she was in, looking down as they passed over them. The action caused her to have to let go of her sister (oh, thank you, Mother, her sister, her sister was back) for only a split second, and she hated it. As soon as she had ascertained that there would be no raucous rally waiting to mob them the moment the wheels touched the ground, she leaped back into the confines of the vehicle, such as they were, wrapping a wing insistently about Luna’s shivering form, drawing her sister close.

She didn’t say anything. Couldn’t, really; the open chariot that had arrived to bring her (and her sister) back from Ponyville exposed them to the wind, stripping away any sound before it had gone very far past their lips. But it was more the spirit of the thing: she never tried to say anything. She couldn’t, and not just because of the wind. While she had protectively, desperately, obsessively kept her little sister close to her on the trip back through the Everfree Forest, while she had not let her move more than a body length away during the proceedings in Ponyville, she had not yet said anything directly to her since they had left the old castle.

What was she supposed to say?

It was not the first time that question had crossed her mind since she had felt Luna rush up to her, sobbing. What do you say to someone you haven’t seen in a thousand years? Someone with whom your last interaction had been a vicious argument? “Hi, good to see you, how was the moon”?

The idea made her chuckle with uncharacteristic darkness, and the wind tore the sound away before it reached her ears.

Luna hadn’t said anything either. Her mouth had remained firmly shut after they left the castle, and Celestia figured she knew why. One thousand years gone by--she was an alien in her own world, half-forgotten by the ponies she used to rule. On top of that, she had been weakened tremendously by the Elements: they had not only drained the Nightmare, they had drained almost all of her strength. Her steps had been uncertain and she had been, still was, trembling, shaking, shivering. More than once, Celestia had looked down at her and thought she saw tears, born of relief, but perhaps also born of complete, frustrated exhaustion. If it weren’t for the fact that the darker alicorn was still shaking violently, vulnerable to the cold, Celestia would have thought her asleep now.

The pegasus guards that flew her chariot had been hoof picked for their speed and precision, ex-members of the Wonderbolts and teams like them. They knew, better than anypony else, how to land a chariot; as the wheels touched the stone surface of the castle, there was the slightest of bumps and nothing more. Despite this, she felt her sister jump, tensing tremendously under her wing, before realizing that everything was alright and falling into a crumpled heap, most of her weight on Celestia’s side.

She didn’t even wait for the carriage to come to a complete stop. There was no time for that; the thought did not even cross her mind. As the pegasi were slowing their trots, she was busy worming her way under her sister, careful not to puncture her with her horn, not deigning to disrespect the action by doing it with magic. Soon enough she felt she had the smaller (...smaller) alicorn atop her, balanced carefully, and wordlessly she stood, moved off of the carriage, and went indoors, Luna still shaking atop her back.

Guards and servants, crowds of them, were waiting for her inside. As one, when they saw her, they rushed forward.

“Are you alright, Your Highness?”

“We were so worried--”

“Who is that pony, Your Highne--”

“Is that... could that be Princess L--”

Enough! she snapped. She could feel Luna turn slightly when she heard her sister’s Voice, but still nothing, no words, no confirmation. At the force of her Word, every single pony took a step back, and then hastily moved to get out of her way as she stalked forward impatiently, leaving them behind.

For the first time in a millennium, the doors to Luna’s chambers swung open. Alder wood, coated in a dark finish, inlaid with silver mythril in the shape of a crescent moon. Celestia hadn’t been here since the... incident, except to cast a preservation spell over the room (because Luna would be back one day, she knew, she knew it, and now here she was) and to seal the doors tight against both physical and magical intrusion.

The spell had held, as she had known it would. The hinges on the doors, unused in centuries, swung open without a sound, and a crushing wave of memory rushed to overtake her as she saw what lay beyond it. Tears rushed to her eyes.

It was bigger than her own bedchamber; Luna had always valued space, had hated crowds and being crowded. The floor was a very dark mahogany, tinged red, almost sparklingly clean, standing out in sharp contrast to the rest of the room. The walls were coated in blue of various shades, lighter toward the floor and progressing toward, but never quite reaching, black toward the ceiling; paintings, old enough to be one-of-a-kind antiques, sat, proudly displayed, on the walls, some of them done by Luna herself. The sole window on the west-facing side of the room looked out on the clear, cloudless sky. Her bed sat against the far wall, a tremendously posh, soft affair, cotton lined with clouds, the bedspread the color of the night sky, a deep, hearty violet sprinkled with stars. The pillows, arranged somewhat obsessively at the far end, ranged from a light blue to deep violet, the colors of dusk. Nestled against the centermost pillow were two plush toys, intricately-detailed phoenixes, one red-orange (Philomena), one deep blue and pale cyan (Selena).

The entire room was dominated by the massive chandelier strung from the ceiling. It was carved from one huge diamond, glittering brilliantly because of the white candles above it. For now, during the day, it was clear, but at night, when the moon rose, the chandelier would glow gently, displaying the same phase as the moon outside. Surrounding it, even during the day, was a glittering image of the night sky. The room was light enough that the stars that sparkled against the velvet indigo backdrop could not be seen, but she remembered spending several nights in this room, watching her sister paint the stars.

Her gold-shod hooves let out deep, resounding thumps as she walked forward, at least until she reached the rug that ran around the edge of her bed, the color of the sky just after the sun passes the horizon, the frilled edges lined with cloud as well. The material was soft enough and deep enough to encompass her hoof and nullify the sound.

She walked up beside the bed and rolled her sister carefully off of her back. At some point as she’d been walking down the hallways she’d felt Luna relax, her breath steadying and deepening, her younger sister finally drifting off to sleep. As far as she could tell, looking down at the dark blue pony, she had not woken up despite Celestia’s admittedly clumsy, magic-less attempt to get her in bed. Nevertheless, despite missing it for a thousand years, her body seemed to remember the bed, reaching up to pull Selena close, squeezing it gently between her hooves. Celestia made to leave.

Except that she couldn’t move.

She found herself frozen, now, staring down at Luna, and now that the younger, smaller alicorn was at peace and asleep, the elder found herself trembling. Something was stirring inside her; her heart was hurting in a way it hadn’t in ages upon ages.

She seemed so small, lying there as she was. Small. Luna had never been small, or at least not terribly small; Celestia was older, but they’d always been nearly the same size. Now, the Princess of the Moon was almost frighteningly small, the size of a regular pony, even smaller than she had been when... when...

She forced her eyes shut, partially to stop looking at this pitiful filly that used to be (still was, would always be) her sister and partially to get rid of the tears she knew were already forming. Smaller or not, this was her sister, her sister was back, she was safe and sound after a thousand years...

“Tia...”

Her eyes snapped open. One of Luna’s teal eyes had cracked open, staring up at her, her snout buried in the phoenix plushie.

“Art thou going to fuss over me like a physician, or leave me to my rest?”

Celestia blinked. “What?”

“My dreams this past fortnight have been troublesome and I am in need of rest,” Luna continued, with the kind of slow patience that meant she was out of patience. “But if thou’rt going to stand over me, trembling and pacing and worrying--”

She trailed off, one hoof leaving the doll long enough to rub frustratedly at her head.

“I’m very tired, Tia,” she said in a very small, foal-like voice, in a language that Equestria hadn’t heard since its early days. Celestia almost didn’t understand at first, until the sounds lined themselves up in her head. “I’m very tired and I’d like to sleep and I can’t because you’re making me nervous.”

“I’m worried about you,” she breathed.

The silence came back, terrible and awkward and tense.

I’m worried about you even though I know you’re safe, I want to let you sleep but I don’t dare let you out of my sight at all because I’m afraid that if I do you’ll disappear again or the Nightmare will come back and I’ll have to banish my sister to the moon again, and I don’t want to, I don’t want to, I just got you back

Celestia said nothing.

“I hurt, Tia,” said Luna finally, curling into a smaller shape, Selena squashed almost completely flat between her hooves. “I hurt and I’m tired and I know this wasn’t what you wanted to talk about but will you please just let me sleep, we’ll both feel better in the morning...”

“No!” she snapped defensively, automatically, her wings snapping up.

“I haven’t had a good night’s rest in a week--”

“ A week!? A week!?” Celestia heard herself screech. Luna stared back at her blankly.

“Maybe it was only a week for you, a week filled with nothing but anger and bad dreams, but for me, Luna, for me it was a thousand years. A thousand years! Decades' worth of worry and frustration and depression and I didn't dare show any of it to the public. Do not think you are the only one in pain, Luna! What seemed to you an instant was to me an eternity."

She wrenched herself away, turning and stomping frustratedly toward the door. She’d just made a mistake, and she knew it; she’d let the perfect, calm image snap and fall away and she’d screamed, she’d screamed at her own sister--the first conversation they’d had in a thousand years, merely an echo of the last. The doors to Luna’s chamber were wrenched open by her magic and she was halfway out the door before a quiet voice, a small magical nudge, stopped her in her tracks.

“Tia, wait.”

She stood in place, shaking, the tears flowing from her eyes freely now, leaving dark, wet spots on the floor that sizzled and fizzed away as the preservation spell found them.

“Come back? Please?”

She turned. Luna had half-risen, staring plaintively at Celestia, frowning slightly.

“I...” she started, hoof dragging at the floor.

“Please?”

She found herself turning, slowly, almost mechanically. She wanted to leave, or part of her, the small part that was Princess Celestia and was concerned with maintaining her image, and that part was pushing at the back of her mind and screaming let her rest.

The part of her that was a sister, the part of her that was Tia, ignored the part of her that was the Princess. Before she was quite aware of what had happened, she was back, half-crawled onto the bed, one wing out and over her sister, pulling her tight, and this time they were both shaking and both crying, and Tia didn’t care.

You’re back.

You’re back and that’s all that matters.

I’m never going to let go of you again. I promise.

At some point, together, they both quieted and stilled, and before long, she could feel Luna’s breathing slow, the smaller alicorn’s body relaxing against hers. Tia didn’t dare move, for fear of waking her up. She wouldn’t, though, have traded that moment for anything else. Not ever.

Not ever.

I love you, little sister.

Welcome home.

Author’s Note

What’s this? Where are the fillies? What happened to last chapter? Worry not: they will return.

I extend gratitude to A. Muffin and Azathoth of Rock once again, for reminding me that longer does not always mean better.

The My Little Pony franchise and all related official material belong to Hasbro et al, and I am in no way affiliated with them. No monetary compensation is expected or will be accepted for my work in writing this fanfic.