Little Moon Princess

Chapter 4: Everypony Has Nightmares

At first, there was only darkness, cold, heavy, and oppressive.

She blinked, trying to adjust. The softness of her enchanted crib mattress was gone. Beneath her, hard stone pressed against her, icy and unyielding. She shifted, wincing. No padding, no warmth, her bare flanks chafed and aggravated by the rough concrete.

A pulse of alarm rushed through her.

No… no, this isn’t real.

She sat up fast and smacked her head hard against something above her. Metal. The clang rang out sharply, and she let out a yelp of pain, falling back with a dazed whimper. When her vision cleared, her hooves reached out, feeling the air around her. Cold iron bars closed her in on every side.

Luna’s breath caught in her throat. Her horn sparked weakly, then fizzled. The magic blocker. She tried to flare her wings in panic, but they wouldn’t open. Bound tight.

Something in her mind screamed.

She scrambled upright, ignoring the ache in her limbs, and pressed her muzzle between the bars to see beyond them. “H-hello?” Her voice cracked. “Is anypony there?”

No answer.

After a few minutes, she could make out the slow, deliberate echo of hoofsteps in the dark. The hoofsteps grew louder. Closer.

Luna backed away from the bars, heart hammering against her ribs. Her breathing came faster, shallow and uneven, the panic rising like bile in her throat. She could barely feel her limbs, just a sick, numbing cold curling up her spine.

click.

The lights flared to life, searing her eyes with sudden brilliance. She flinched, throwing up a hoof, blinded for a long, terrible moment. When she finally blinked through the dazzle she wished she hadn’t.

The room was white. White walls, white floor, white ceiling. Spotless. Sterile. Except for the strange stains, faint but unmistakable, splattered across the concrete floor like the remnants of something long since dried. Something that looked too dark to be water, and the tools.

Rows of metal implements lined the walls, each arranged with unsettling precision. Bone saws. Hooks. Pliers. Restraints. Even devices she couldn’t name. Cold surgical silver gleamed under the harsh light, the edges of each tool catching the glow like little blades of moonlight.

Luna stumbled back in her cage until she couldn’t retreat any further. Her tail curled beneath her. Her wings strained uselessly against the binds.

“What is this?” she whispered.

Then she saw the door. It creaked open slowly, and a figure stepped inside, tall, graceful, and wreathed in an amber fire that danced like sunflame. Luna’s breath hitched.

“…Tia?” she gasped.

Celestia stood there. Or—something that looked like her. Same height. Same mane, though it shimmered more violently now, the colors warped into angry reds and golds. Her regalia glinted with a cruel edge. Her eyes were wrong though. Hard. Empty.

Luna took a trembling step forward in her cage, the hope in her voice cracking. “Sister? Please, what’s happening? Why am I here?”

Celestia tilted her head. Her lips curled into a smirk that sent ice through Luna’s veins.

“You’re here,” Celestia said smoothly, her voice like honey dripped over broken glass, “because that’s where Equestria decided you belonged.”

Celestia stepped closer to the cage, slow and deliberate. Her hooves echoed with unnatural weight, and with each click against the concrete, Luna’s breath grew shallower. The bars between them now felt paper-thin.

“No speeches?” Celestia mocked, her smile widening. “No self-righteous anger? I expected a bit more fight from the great Nightmare Moon.”

“I’m not-” Luna’s voice cracked. “That wasn’t… I didn’t choose-”

“Didn’t choose?” Celestia’s laugh burst out sharp and sudden. “Is that what you’re telling yourself now? That it was all some tragic mistake?”

Her horn lit, the light crackling and sparking like fire barely contained. “You stole years from them. From me. Do you think diapers and a few tears will undo any of that?”

Luna shrank back, her flank bumping the bars behind her. “Please,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, I didn’t-”

But the other Celestia was already turning away, her gaze sweeping the wall of tools. Her magic brushed along the steel row like a musician tuning her instruments.

“Do you know what crops do in only a few days of darkness?” she asked, almost idly. “They die. Like families. Like children.”

A bone saw twitched beneath her magic as the set of pliers next to it lifted gently into the air.

Luna’s throat locked. Her bladder released in a wave of terror, warm and sudden against her thighs.

She didn’t even notice the humiliation this time. Only the pliers, gleaming, drifting toward her.

Celestia’s smile returned, slow and thin. “Let’s see how much of the old Luna is still left in there…”

“No! No, please, I’ll be good!” Luna sobbed, pressing herself flat against the back of the cage, her hooves scrabbling against the cold steel. “Tia please don’t….don’t hurt me!”

The pliers hovered, precise and slow, as if savoring the dread that thickened the air. The mockery in Celestia’s eyes burned brighter than her magic ever had.

“Good?” she echoed, her voice syrupy and sharp. “You think this is about good? No, little moon. This is about balance. About paying debts. And you’ve only just begun.”

Luna’s mouth opened in a silent scream as Celestia’s magic gripped her muzzle, forcing it open with a terrible jerk. Her jaw ached, her legs flailed. She thrashed in desperation, eyes wide with primal terror, sobs hitching in her throat.

“Let’s start with the front ones,” Celestia purred, leaning closer. Her breath was hot, suffocating. “Nice and visible. So everypony will remember what happens to naughty little monsters.”

The pliers pressed to her front tooth.

A spark of pressure, white, sharp, and then-

She jolted awake with a choking gasp, the echo of metal scraping across enamel still screamed in her ears. Her chest heaved, limbs trembling beneath the heavy nursery blankets. The bars beside her weren’t iron, they were carved wood. Painted. Safe. But her mind didn’t register it.

She flung herself backward into the corner of the crib, kicking wildly, breath catching on sobs that hadn’t yet formed words. Her wings scrambled against the mattress, her eyes darted around the dim room, unseeing.

“No-no, don’t! Stay back!” she cried hoarsely, pressing herself into the bars like she could vanish between them. “Please, don’t hurt me, I’ll be good, I swear! I’ll be good!”

The nursery door burst open, golden light flooding the floor.

“Luna!” Celestia’s voice, strained with panic. “I’m here, what happened? Lulu, I’m here!”

Luna shrieked. The tall, glowing shape in the doorway looked too much like what she’d just seen. That smile. That voice.

“No! Get away from me!” she wailed, twisting toward the far side of the crib, scrambling at the rails.

“Luna, it’s me,” she said quickly, gently, stepping closer without entering the crib’s glow. “It’s Tia. It was a nightmare, love. Just a dream.”

Luna didn’t answer, didn’t even seem to hear. Her body shook violently, eyes squeezed shut, tears streaming in thick rivers as she repeated, “Don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

Celestia’s heart clenched and she dropped to her knees beside the crib, lowering her voice to a murmur.

“It’s alright, Lulu. It’s over. You’re home. You’re safe.”

Still no response.

Celestia reached into the crib, slowly, and rested a gentle hoof on her sister’s trembling back.

Luna flinched violently at the touch.

Celestia pulled back, brows knitting in alarm. “Shh… Luna, please… I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe now. It was just a dream.”She waited. Breath held.

Luna stirred. Her sobs quieted slightly, becoming erratic hiccups and gasps. Her hooves curled close to her chest, and she blinked in sharp, shuddering bursts. Only then did her eyes, bleary, red, rimmed with fear, meet Celestia’s.

“…Tia?”

Celestia’s breath caught. “Yes, Luna. I’m here.” Her voice cracked. “You’re safe, little moon.”

Luna stared, eyes wide, then slowly, her posture began to shift. Her limbs stopped fighting. Her ears tilted forward. She blinked up at her sister, still trembling in Celestia’s shadow, her sobs tapering into raw, hitched breaths. Her throat ached. Her chest felt tight. The room was spinning just slightly, but the monster was gone.

Celestia leaned closer, still speaking gently, carefully. “Luna, I’m going to touch you.” she said, voice calm. “I just need to check you over.”

Luna didn’t speak, just gave the faintest nod, so small it was nearly invisible.

Celestia’s magic enveloped her, gently easing her into the air. Luna let herself be moved, limp in her sister’s magic, her eyes wide and hollow.

Celestia angled her slightly, looking at each part of her sister before lifting her hindquarters just enough to inspect the diaper. Her brow furrowed almost immediately.

Luna blinked slowly, confused, still half-lost in the fog, but then she felt it.

The clammy squish. The damp press along the inside of her legs. The faint cooling air against an area that should have been dry.

And she hadn’t even noticed.

Her face blanched, then burned. “I…I didn’t-” Her voice cracked. “I didn’t mean to…”

Celestia said nothing. She simply held her closer, one hoof curled protectively around Luna’s back, but that only made it worse.

I didn’t even feel it, Luna thought. Her voice shook now, rough and wet. She had to check me. Like I’m some dumb foal who doesn’t even- She couldn’t bear the thoughts racing through her mind. “I didn’t mean to.…”

Celestia gently hushed her, rocking her softly as her magic began to gather clean supplies from the changing cabinet.

“It’s alright, Lulu,” she murmured. “You were scared. And you were asleep. That’s all. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

But the shame had already bloomed wide in Luna’s chest, taking up all the space her fear had left behind. She clung tightly to her sister now to assuage the sheer need to hold on to something before she disappeared altogether.

Celestia worked quickly. The old diaper vanished with a shimmer, and a soft cleansing spell followed. Then a cool cream soothed the worst of the rash, followed by powder, then a fresh, thick diaper snugged softly into place.

Luna said nothing. She just lay there, staring at the ceiling, her cheeks still flushed and her hooves drawn close to her chest. Her limbs trembled faintly, even now.

Celestia finished and levitated her upright with care, holding her in a loose cradle for a moment before moving toward the crib.

“No-!” The word burst out of Luna before she could stop it. Her wings twitched reflexively, and she reached out, grabbing a tuft of Celestia’s fur with one hoof. “No, please don’t, please don’t put me in there.”

Celestia froze mid-step. “Luna…”

“I-I don’t want to be alone,” Luna blurted, more breath than voice. “Please, just for tonight, I…I can’t. I can’t be alone again.”

She hated how it sounded. Hated the desperation in her own voice. Hated how young it made her feel.

But it was true.

For a heartbeat, Celestia didn’t move. Then she leaned in, nuzzling the top of Luna’s mane. “You won’t be,” she said softly. “Not tonight.”

Still cradling her, she turned away from the crib entirely and began the quiet walk toward her own chambers, her magic dimming the nursery lights behind them as the door swung gently shut.

Luna didn’t say a word, but her grip on her sister never loosened.

Celestia’s chambers were warm, quiet, and dimly lit by the soft flicker of the hearth. The great bed at the room’s center looked impossibly inviting: a sea of feathered quilts and sun-softened linens, wide enough for four ponies.

Celestia didn’t pause at the threshold. She walked straight to the bed and climbed in, Luna still cradled gently against her chest. With practiced ease, she pulled back the covers, slipped beneath them, and let the warmth of the down mattress rise up around them both.

Luna felt so exposed like this. So helpless. Her hooves were tucked up like a foal’s. She could still feel the thick press of her fresh diaper beneath her, the faint powdery scent of the rash cream on her coat. A thousand emotions roiled just beneath her skin, shame, fear, confusion, longing. The storm of her nightmare had passed, but its thunder still echoed inside her.

Celestia shifted slightly, pulling Luna in closer, draping one wing over her like a velvet curtain. “You’re safe,” she murmured again, low and steady. “I’ve got you, Lulu. Just rest now.”

Luna made a small sound, half protest, half surrender, but her body betrayed her. She was too tired to resist. Too raw. The warmth was too comforting, the wing around her too familiar. Her face buried into the curve of Celestia’s chest, and her breathing slowed.

Seconds passed. Then minutes.

Luna shifted once, murmured something incomprehensible, and then fell still.

When she finally drifted off, deep and dreamless this time, it was in the safest place she could remember.

She hated how safe it felt, and how badly she needed it.