Summary: Before Luna refuses to lower the moon, she attempts to take her own life.

Warning: Contains themes of suicide

Note: The title is indeed from the Emilie Autumn song of the same name, as are the chapter titles. I do intend to write a second chapter to this, but I am less than dependable when it comes to my WIPs, so that is a tentative possibility at best.

The Art of Suicide

I

Under the Arches of Moonlight and Sky

Clouds blotted out the moon, or maybe it was Luna's tears that smeared its light into the darkness. She felt as if the night and all of her stars were wrapped heavy around her, blotting her out, too. She wished that they would.

Luna lifted her wings. She soared over a lonely countryside, shadows collected in the rooms of every house, silence draped over the land like heavy dew. She turned sharply and flew a great distance away from all of the cities. She flew and flew, until her wings strained and burned and she could barely hold herself afloat.

Then she let herself drop.

Luna awoke gradually. She stretched her legs, fluttered her wings a little to stretch them, too, and climbed out of bed. It never got any easier to wake up. But somewhere, buried deep in her thoughts, were vestiges of a devotion to some obligation that she had to perform, some purpose that she fulfilled.

Luna's movements felt mechanical. Dusk was already fading; she needed to begin her duty soon. She walked down the halls and gazed at the late sunlight splashed orange and vibrant across the walls.

"Oh, Luna!" a voice greeted her, soothing.

"Celestia," Luna's answer was muted.

"Good night, my dear sister."

"Good night."

Luna didn't feel like speaking with Celestia during this twilight, as was their custom. She didn't feel like anything tonight. So she took her leave quickly and went to a balcony to begin her task.

She planted her hooves into the polished floor, closing her eyes and concentrating on the familiar, distant object. She gently pulled at it and gritted her teeth as she began to lift her burden. Luna could always feel the moon's light on her coat before she opened her eyes. This time was no different.

Yet… It was. Luna paused, holding the moon suspended for a moment. This wasn't the first time she'd woken from a dream in which she'd died. Luna rather enjoyed those dreams, anyways. There was something restful about the thought of curling up and never waking, about disappearing unnoticed into the night. So what was different about tonight?

With a firm nudge, she pushed the moon the rest of the way into the sky, sagging as the horizon received its weight.

Luna thought of falling, of that beautiful feeling of simply letting go.

She thought of it and longed for it more than ever, because that pale memory of a feeling was stronger than any she had felt in months. And Luna was weary of hollowness.

She made a decision, then, and took to the sky, the wind whispering beneath her wings. The stars brightened as she neared them, and briefly, Luna's heart lifted in wonder at the sight of them. Like everything else, however, that sensation faded along with the rest of them.

Luna flew to the edge of the earth where land met the sea, far away from her home. It took many hours and almost all of her strength, but that didn't matter. Nothing did.

She perched there, at the precipice overlooking the endless expanse of water, and watched the waves reach for her moon then crash upon the jagged rocks below. Over and over again, they rose and then subsided, a lift and then a collapse, a smooth arc and then tumultuous froth. Extending far out to the edge of Luna's sight was the thin line of soon-to-be-breaking dawn.

A strangled sob burst from her throat. She dropped to her knees in exhaustion, taking great gasping breaths of the briny air.

"I'm sorry, Celestia," she choked. "But you're strong, stronger than me." She got to her hooves, and her legs started shaking, the ground feeling unsteady and unreal beneath her. "Your people love you, but they'll soon forget about me."

The air had grown hazy with fog, but Luna didn't bother to clear it. "And for you, doing anything for them will never be a burden." She shut her eyes, then took a few tiny steps, the din of the water increasing as she neared the ledge. "I wish I could be more like you." Her eyes swam with tears, her coat growing heavy with collected droplets of moisture from the fog and ocean spray.

"Goodnight, my beautiful moon. I hope this isn't your last." The words caught in her mouth, and she stumbled over them.

Then her wings rose from her side.

She covered the last of the distance in a small leap, taking in the whole of the world before she closed her wings for the fall.

"Wait," an unfamiliar voice called out.

Luna caught herself in shock. A breeze took her back upon the land, and she wobbled there for a moment before her legs gave beneath her and she crumpled onto her knees. "You aren't real. No one's awake, no one talks to me at night," she wept.

"I'm real enough."

Something touched Luna's shoulder, warm and vaporous like a breath, yet more tangible than that. She turned, slowly, and two eyes stared at her from the shadows, large and turquoise and brighter than the moon. "I'm more real than any nightmare, and you are a foal," the shadow mare hissed.

"Wh-" Luna started, tears building again in her eyes.

"You have so much power, the position to wield it, and you are weak enough to toss it away into the wind for nothing." The mare leaned forward, her unsettling eyes filling Luna's field of vision.

"Yes!" Luna cried. "I'm weak. I'm weak. I'M WEAK!" she screamed in the royal Canterlot voice. It reverberated against the rocks and pounded into her thoughts. I'm weak, I'm weak, I'm weak.

"I'm tired of living. I'm tired of waking up and lifting the moon. I'm tired of creating art that nopony sees. I'm tired of it all, and if wanting it to just end makes me weak… then so be it." She sagged. "I'm tired of the terrible feelings, but worse than that, I'm tired of feeling nothing, and I want it gone, I want all of it gone!" Her voice rose as she descended into hysterics.

"What a waste of bitterness," the mare snorted. "You want their love? You think their love will make living each day better? Well, it won't. Nothing will make you truly happy, so don't expect it to." The mare pounded her hoof into the earth. "Don't you hate them, for making you so miserable?"

"N-no," Luna whispered, hesitant. "It's not their fault my moon isn't as pretty as the sun."

"Of course it's their fault. Your moon is the most beautiful thing in the world."

Luna gaped up at the mare, the fresh tearstains on her face frigid in the night. The mare had said that with such brutal, visceral honesty, that Luna couldn't doubt it.

"You- you mean that?"

"Yes. Anypony who doesn't appreciate your moon is a foal unable to wean itself from needing the rigid, tedious sun," the mare snapped. "And you are royalty born to lead your mewling, inferior subjects into becoming enlightened followers. Even if they resist, you must bend them to your will because you are better than every. Single. Foalish. One of them."

"W-who are you?" Luna asked, suddenly feeling unsettled.

"I am a shadow. Every light casts one, and I am a moonshadow. I am yours alone."

"But Celestia doesn't-"

"The brighter the light, the darker the shadow. And the sun is brightest light of them all."

At the dim horizon, dawn had begun to push more insistently at the night. Luna stared at it, and then her eyes dipped toward the waves. "I don't- I don't think I can do it. I'm weak," Luna said. But her thoughts of falling, of letting herself die, were fading fast.

"I am not weak." The mare's gaze was harsh. Luna gathered a sense of urgency in the mare's words. "If you are unable, then let me bear your burden for you."

Luna thought for awhile, but her answer was clear in her mind. "Yes. Do it. Please."

"Very well." The mare's eyes glittered with triumph, and she surged forward, a dark, forceful wind that enveloped Luna and tore at the air around her, rustling the grasses and pulling the sand into a cloud of crackling energy.

The mare's face loomed in front of her, then they were touching, and then it went beyond that, with shadow devouring Luna's vision as the mare begin to merge with her.

Luna screamed. In victory, in defeat, in fierce rage, in quiet sorrow.

As herself, she screamed. As somepony else, she screamed. As something beyond both of them, she screamed and reared up on her hind legs to strike at the advancing day with her hooves.

Already, Luna's desolation was giving way to fury. Simultaneously, she felt a quieter relief, because feeling something was better than the crawling numbness, even if that something was a knot of envy-rage-retribution.

"No, not Luna." The words emerged unbidden from her mouth, in a voice that wasn't hers. "We aren't Luna. We are the mare of the night, of your beautiful moon. We are Nightmare Moon."

And if nopony appreciated her night, then Nighmare Moon would force their eyes open and make them see.