Princess Celestia's Dream

Princess Celestia was dreaming again. It was a familiar dream, even if she couldn’t quite say why that was.

In the dream, all was dark, enshrouded in a navy blue fog that occluded vision of anything even slightly in the distance. The only illumination was the moonlight.

She looked up at the moon hanging in the sky above her. The pale orb grinned down at her. Celestia… she didn’t grin back. There was something deeply unsettling about the dream moon. What was it? She should know this. She should remember this.

Oh.

It wasn’t supposed to be this close.

“Tia. Sister.” A whisper. The moon whispered her name. A sister? She… clutched her head. The dream wasn’t letting her think properly.

The moon sprouted wings the color of midnight and flew even closer until all was bathed in the silvery glow of its majesty. And when it was close enough, Princess Celestia could see that the orb was but an eye in a nebula. The cloud of stars formed the shape of someone she knew.

“Sister.” It was her sister.

“Mistress.” It was her Mistress.

It was coming back to her. She had done a terrible thing and hurt her sister. She had sent her away, banished her. But her Mistress-Sister had been helping her realize her mistake. Every night, her dreams were shaped by her sister, and with it, her subconscious.

When she awoke, she wouldn’t remember a thing. Not yet. Not until her dreaming self had fully processed her sister’s words and internalized them so that her waking self could understand them as well. She knew this too because her Mistress had told her.

The gentle whispers of her sister spoke to her. They spoke of how once the two were reunited, she wouldn’t have to worry about ruling alone anymore. They would be queens together, though her sister would be the one making all the decisions. Celestia would be far too busy atoning for her mistake by serving as her Mistress-Sister’s sex toy.

She looked at her dream body and saw the form her waking self would eventually take. The future that awaited her carved from the most sensuous marble. It seemed appropriate. It was what her sister had given her, and she would make use of it.

A thousand years of righteous servitude for a thousand years of wrongful punishment.