“Let me see if I have this straight,” Doug says as he enters behind Celestia.

The combination dining room / kitchen / common area, being the only communal room on the main floor, is almost always in a perpetual state of disarray, though perhaps the exact amount would be in the eye of the beholder. To the foals, the lack of toys strewn across the thick carpet is an open invitation, primed for play, just like the ripe orchards outside tempt the Apples to get a head start on their already early schedules. To Rarity, as she shadows Doug, the fact that she can see the toys peeking out from their crates means the foals didn’t do a good enough job putting them away last night, and might earn a few twisted ears in the hopes the message would sink in this time.

Not, though, for the two industrious helpers who regularly wake before the roosters. Hedge sets Doug’s first stack of four apple pancakes and a tall glass of pulpy orange juice next to Luna’s unpeeled yet half-eaten orange, earning herself a quick pickup-and-hug that leaves her giggling before she scampers back to the sizzling stove.

Doug pulls out the single human-style chair from the table; the ponies prefer to stand, though there is a long applewood bench should some of the shorter fillies struggle to reach the top. He regards Luna curiously while she returns a dour look, the kind that threatens nightmares should one unduly bother her. “You regularly monitor the dreams of important leaders in other countries.”

“Indeed,” Luna replies bitterly as her stallion sits next to her. Lines crease her weary face, her disheveled mane and tail in dire need of a good brushing. Still, despite her exhaustion, she returns a short-lived if friendly smile when Doug tenderly rubs against an ear, pushing past his hand to dip her head under his chin and against his chest. She rests there a moment, as if stealing a wink of sleep, pulling away looking slightly refreshed. “As we guard the dreams of ponies, so too do we safeguard the slumber of other creatures, though we often take care to disguise our appearance.”

“Yeah, I can imagine that revelation not going over well.” Doug frowns as he thinks through the implications of possessing such intimate knowledge, as Nightmare Moon had threatened to use so long ago. His expression must have given away his thoughts, judging by the snort from Luna. He tries to smile at her. “Not that you’d abuse it or anything.”

Luna snorts again for good measure. “We appreciate the confidence, however misplaced.” She chomps down on the remainder of her pancakes, spurning the smile made of blue- and blackberries. Even while eating the sugary treat she seems ready to slump over at any time, her dour scowl lengthening. She mutters, “Especially for how little good the information will do us.”

“Why’s that?” Doug asks, now intrigued more than scared, as he adds syrup to his breakfast. He takes a bite; it’s delicious and succulent, especially the apple chunks, and loaded with butter. Which makes sense, since it’s Lemon’s cooking and not his own; even Celestia makes an effort to eat marginally healthy, for all she consumes cakes to the exclusion of other foods.

Luna blows away a portion of frazzled mane with an exasperated huff. “Because Equestria has a long-standing policy of non-interference,” she quotes, the words a pointed taunt, staring down her Sister.

“It is a policy that has served us well,” Celestia states as she joins on the opposite side of Doug, returning a stony look of her own. Lemon has prepared for her an even more extravagant breakfast, loaded with whipped cream and shaved orange that makes a passable impression of her cutie mark. The sweet sight fails to spark more than a brief smile. “It would be ill-considered to break lightly.”

“Of course.” Luna bows her head with mock contrition. “We beg your pardon; we wouldn’t dare overstep our bounds.”

“Submission does not become you,” Celestia rebukes, gently, though there is a harshness behind her eyes. “And neither does false humility. If you have something you wish to say, then say it.”

“If only transmission was the issue,” Luna spits out, intentionally goading with a nasty scowl. “And not reception.”

“Excuse me!” Celestia exclaims, rearing up to her full height. Any semblance of warmth is gone in a flash, her countenance burning with repressed fury that tinges the room in a dull red despite her horn remaining unlit.

Rarity, Lemon, and Hedge, about to dig into their own stacks of cream-coated pancakes, hunker down. They exchange worried glances; none have seen the Princesses angry at each other, or even irritated. They aren’t sure what to do, if they can even do anything.

“Let’s not be hasty,” Doug says in a calm, commanding manner. He focuses first on Celestia, holding a hand up as if to placate her.

“Stay out of this,” Luna orders harshly. The tired lines across her face fade as the room behind her darkens and chills. “It is an issue between us.”

“Yeah, well,” Doug says, turning to face Luna. He stands, his shoulders squaring back, and stares her down. “Right now, I’m between you. So unless you-”

A cobalt glow fills the room as Luna’s horn flares. Her scowl intensifies as her aura surrounds, then slips off Doug. It latches onto the chair behind him, tipping it over and leaving him impotently flailing for balance. Growling, she hefts the chair entirely and roughly shoves him to the side, sending him sprawling to the floor. Rarity gasps and rushes over, interposing herself between the two, even if she has no chance of besting the alicorn.

“Okay,” Doug mutters as he pushes the fallen chair to the side, checking his body for bruises. “I was asking for that.”

Rarity, relieved at seeing him uninjured, backs off, if only slightly. She can’t believe Princess Luna would act in such a manner, to her stallion or otherwise, or that Princess Celestia would so readily allow it!

Luna, seething, whirls on Celestia, the white alicorn unfazed by her Sister’s cold-hearted action. “Why dost thy sully our contributions so?”

“Forgive me for being unable to read another’s mind as you can,” Celestia states imperiously, looking down at her unrepentant Sister. Her mane billows as if fanned by flames, yet the expected wave of heat never materializes, leaving Luna’s countering cold to send shivers along exposed skin. “How have we failed to appreciate your abilities?”

“Hey,” Doug says, Rarity giving a worried glance as he steps forward again. He stops when Celestia raises a hoof, not looking in his direction and remaining focused on her Sister.

“What,” Luna demands, “of the efforts we have put into ensuring restorative sleep for everypony at the castle?”

“All two dozen of them?” Celestia retorts, the laugh she might have normally hidden laced through her voice. “You ensure unhampered sleep for all of Equestria, and have referred to that as your ‘duty’, an action that needs no thanks!”

“Ooh,” Rarity mutters from the side. “That’s a trap if I’ve ever heard one.” Doug nods in agreement, though he doubts Celestia held to it.

“We would still appreciate some recognition,” Luna growls out, either having heard or foreseen Rarity’s remark. The temperature in the air drops another few degrees. “Dost thou not bathe in the adoration of thy little ponies every time thou performs the arduous chore of fulfilling thy cutie mark? Oh, what a weary fate, to be loved and worshiped at every turn!”

“I do not, and have never, required their love nor their worship,” Celestia replies neutrally, not giving in to Luna’s goading. And yet the tinge of red in her eyes intensifies. “And I make no secret of my appreciation of the time, however unnecessary, that they choose to spend in attendance when I raise or lower the sun.” She immediately appends, a tiny amount of fervor fading, “When we raise or lower the sun and moon.”

“How gracious to allow us to join thy side.” Luna snorts, still seething. Even so, a tiny bit of chill lifts as she seems to accept the implicit apology. “And to relinquish thy grasp on our moon. Did thou even notice the difference?”

Celestia smiles, offering an olive branch with her words. “I knew there would be a future with you, and that sustained me.”

“How utterly droll,” Luna scoffs. “Would your little ponies bother coming if thy radiant presence were not present?” Celestia’s teeth clink together, unable to provide a satisfactory answer. Luna turns to Doug. “Would thou attend, were you not afforded the pleasure of filling our belly with seed?”

“Am I allowed to talk now?” Doug asks, wary of the chair, though it seems Luna’s question is rhetorical as she glares at Celestia. The cold intensifies, and while he could resist rubbing at his arms he can barely keep his teeth from chattering. Beside him, Rarity seems to fare no better, huddling with the two fillies.

“Nearly a year have we returned,” Luna continues brazenly, “and yet thou has entrusted to us nary an assignment that thou has not also attended. Night Court remains as barren as the moon, with trivial adjudications and emergencies insufficient to rouse the more illustrious Princess.”

“You were recovering,” Celestia responds defensively. “And when the Crystal Empire returned, did you not rebuild the railway, linking our two countries once again?”

“A task only accomplished with the infusion of changeling workers,” Luna answers, still bitter. “No thanks to our own efforts.”

“You think I engineered that solely to spite you?” Celestia laughs, piercing and condescending. “I could never get my schemes as effective as yours, nor as insidious.”

“Look,” Doug interrupts before Luna can spit out the words on the tip of her tongue, stepping forward and ignoring the pointed glares both alicorns give him. “Is listing all your grievances back and forth the most productive way to do this?”

“Thou wishes we would stop our squabbling,” Luna retorts with an angry glare, “and return to sucking thy cock.”

Rarity gasps at the uncouth remark, though the fillies snicker at the impropriety. However, it merely draws a wry chuckle from Doug, which throws the alicorn off guard. He steps forward, heedless of the frigid cold. “I wouldn’t say no, but that’s not the point. The point is, you two love each other and want the best for each other. Yes?”

“Yes,” Celestia responds immediately.

Doug turns to Luna; it takes her a moment longer, chewing over her words, before she nods as well. He smiles, relieved his plan is working so far. “Now. What I hear is this: Luna, you feel underutilized.”

“Correct, though insufficient.” Luna grunts, barely mollified.

“Are you worried about…” Doug trails off. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, steeling himself. His left hand, scars not quite hidden by the diamond tattoo, shakes despite his right hand’s tight grip. And not from the cold, but from the very real possibility, at least in his mind, that the mare in front of him would relapse.

Luna grits her teeth. “Nightmare Moon?”

Doug nods, almost imperceptibly. Acknowledging that the pony in front of him and the one who tortured him and his foals is extremely disconcerting, no matter how unlikely that that side of her is to ever resurface. “I-I was going to guess that you worry about being shown enough appreciation for your actions. If ponies ignore you, or are too afraid to make the attempt.”

Luna sighs heavily; much of her anger fades upon seeing her stallion’s timorous reaction at even the possibility she might regress to her most infamous form. If she cannot get him, one sworn to love her despite her faults, to see past those same faults, to not only acknowledge but more importantly to believe that she can be better, then what chance does she have with the nation at large? Her words come slowly, carefully considered.

“For a millennium our Sister’s light has shone only brighter, while ours faded into obscurity. The ponies of Equestria have eyes only for her; even the newly minted Magic fails to rouse their ardor where she appears alone, the same with the ascended Love. We hoped it would be different for us, that they might remember our triumphs and not our fall. We acknowledge it was our… it was my actions that forced our dear Sister’s hoof. But with my return?”

Luna looks up, her dour countenance lifting along with the temperature as Celestia steps past Doug. The taller sister bends down until they are eye level, magenta briefly staring into cyan. Then her eyes, filled with grief, flicker away, her long horn dipping underneath Luna’s neck, much to the younger Sister’s surprise. They exchange a tender nuzzle in the opposite of their normal positions.

“I am sorry,” Celestia begins, tears brimming. “I have only meant to protect you, to nurture you, to see you return to your full glory. All I have done was for that goal, and to see it realized like this...”

“Then release us.” Luna pulls away to better regard her Sister, Celestia only reluctantly letting her free. “Allow us to freely exercise our own discretion. To fail or succeed on our own efforts and not thy interference, however well intentioned. Thy tongue has confessed that thy focus has centered on thy little ponies. When we first arrived, you implored us to focus on an area, rather than attempt to ascertain the entirety of Equestrian and foreign culture at once. Consequently, we have expanded our vision outwards, to our neighbors both friend and foe. But we find ourselves hamstrung, crippled by restrictions. Other ponies will never see us as thy equal when it is so clear we are not.”

“What is it, then, that you desire?” Celestia’s confusion, as her compassion, is genuine. She reaches forward again to nuzzle her Sister, lightly, in the hopes she will respond in kind. “You wish for us to-”

“-No,” Luna interrupts, though she returns Celestia’s nuzzle while the white alicorn stares at her, perplexed. “No ‘us’.” She takes a deep breath, her resolve trembling at Celestia’s wounded expression. “When we travel as delegates to foreign lands, as two or three or four Princesses, they see you. When you meet with a dignitary by yourself, they see you. But if they were to meet with only… me, they would inquire as to when their meeting with you would occur.”

“You wish to go alone to Mount Aris,” Celestia says, heart heavy.

“Not because we do not wish your company,” Luna apologizes. “But we fear it may be necessary.” A flit of a smile crosses her muzzle as she shakes her flank, the cutie mark still lit like the moon in the sky above. “And, perhaps, this is proof of that.”

Next Chapter: Ch. 76 - Fluid Motion, Part Three Estimated time remaining: 19 Hours, 53 Minutes