Chapter Text
Moon vividly remembers the day you arrived. You were there, watching them perform, with that sweet gleam of adoration in your eyes. You watched them as if nothing else had ever existed, as if you were beholding a deity.
And, Moon, well, he was flustered. As he performed, he performed for you - and for you alone. It had been such a long time since Moon had ever felt joy in his performances, too long in fact. He had been getting quite lazy. His beloved Sun had pointed it out on many occasions, he would worry and fret over how very burnt out Moon was.
Moon knew that Sun was just as burnt out, but Sun was much much better at pretending. Moon could not keep up the false enjoyment. That is, until you sat in the crowd, wide-eyed and mesmerized, as he frolicked upon the stage.
His performance was better than it had been in years. He was enthused, delighted, and he was having fun, for once. The King’s court was never such a delightful audience.
Sun, too, noticed it. Noticed you. But not nearly as well as Moon had. Moon must admit that he’s proud of that, that he’s happy that he was the first one to meet your eyes.
Sun remembered it all too well, the shock of his lover somehow performing so beautifully, he remembers the joy he felt and how he, too, found himself performing better than he had in ages. But then, he realized that someone held his Moonlight’s focus as they performed. At first, he was jealous. Jealous that it was not him that had brought such a lively spark to his lover’s eyes.
Until he spotted you as well.
And you were mesmerizing. But Sun couldn’t stare at you too long, not as much as Moon had, as Sun was much more focused on making sure the audience didn’t notice how entranced they both were.
After the performance, Sun and Moon had gone back to their shared quarters and stared at each other, both of them already so sure of something.
They were both so sure of you, so sure that they were smitten and they were sure of that within the instant.
===
Then, you had started performing with them.
That first performance, Moon and Sun completed with a heavy heart. You didn’t know what you had gotten into, and while they would have adored getting to perform as equals to you, getting to show you off like they wanted to…
Metal is replaceable.
So metal should obey.
And you, poor little bird, didn’t have the slightest clue of what you were in this game.
So, unfortunately, they had to be mean. Had to antagonize and humiliate and trip you up, despite how much it tore at them. It killed them, ate them up from the inside like rust was corroding them.
They did their best to be as nice as they could in subtle ways, holding you gently, or talking sweetly. It was the best they could do, to show their adoration. They touched you, almost desperately they found, and hoped that perhaps their touch could bestow upon you the knowledge of just how delighted they were by you.
They were unable to find you after the performance.
How they ached to talk with you.
===
The following performances are difficult.
Moon desires nothing more than to whisk you away and take you for himself, never to be laughed at or jeered at by any members of the audience. Sun desires nothing more than to see you smile and laugh with him, to whisper sweet nothings in your ear and see as your face turns warm.
It is worse when they see you decorating yourself for them. They know it is for them - they are the furthest thing from stupid. The earrings nearly made them swoon, and if Sun could have, he would have kissed you stupid right then and there.
Your attraction to them was obvious, and they were honored by it, honored to have your eyes and your heart, but ashamed that this was how it was all turning out. You did not deserve to be torn apart by them on stage, no. Moon felt that you deserved to be pampered by them, in private.
You deserved to be snuggled up between them at night, while Moon teased you relentlessly and Sun tried to spare you from dying of how flustered you’d be. You deserved to be showered with their gifts and wearing things that showed off that you were theirs, that they adored you, that you were everything to them.
There is so little that brings them joy.
You were their joy.
But yet, but yet, they are forced to bite and tear like hungry dogs to a carcass.
When you come in wearing that beautiful leotard, they feel even worse. You are beautiful, beautiful enough that Sun and Moon could feel their fans kicking up and slight bits of steam rushing out. None of this you saw. But oh, were they entranced by you.
Sun wondered, briefly, what it would be like to be married to you. To own a little house in the country, living off of the wealth amassed from working under the King. Maybe they’d have chickens, maybe have a few little ones running around, and Sun would make you breakfast in bed every morning before attending the garden with you. He shared the thought with Moon as they performed.
Moon added to it, of course. He imagined sitting outside with you on clear nights, looking up at the stars and talking about your thoughts. He imagined helping to put the little ones to bed when they were restless, singing them lullabies with you or rocking them to sleep. He imagined holding your hands and dancing to nothing but his own humming.
They dreamed of it all.
And yet, they dreamed of seeing you truly perform, dreamed of seeing you perform in a way that brought you joy, that wasn’t some sick game they were forced to play by a half-mad and sickly king.
===
The day you resigned, they felt their metaphorical hearts stop.
They knew something had been off as they performed, they knew it. You seemed broken, helpless, like you had given up. They both wanted to chase away your sorrows, wanted to snarl at anyone who would dare upset you, wanted to rip apart whatever it was that was making you look so defeated
You didn’t entertain when they desperately tried to at least show some affection on stage. You claimed that you were not theirs, and Sun could feel his heart breaking so terribly. Moon could feel it too.
They had longed for you to be theirs and for them to be yours. How unfair this stage was to them.
But then… But then you.. You resigned. You told the King that you wished to leave, and he allowed it.
They could do nothing but stare and watch.
Was it them? Was it their fault you were leaving? They hoped not but they knew that it was likely their fault. They never saw you outside of performances. They never got to say how they felt truly or anything.
Did they not try hard enough to catch you afterwards? Did they not spend enough time scouring the castle for where they might be able to run into you in their free time?
And then you came up to them, a little pouch in hand. Sun reached out to you, perhaps to pull you close or to cradle you, to beg you “please, please don’t go,” but you simply took his hand, and placed that little pouch in it. You closed his fingers around it and spoke not one word to him.
Moon couldn’t believe it. He didn’t want to believe it. How foolish it was of him to be so enamored with you, when he should have known it would come to an end like this. But he didn’t blame you, no, not at all, not when he knew just how terrible it must have been to be in your situation. It ached.
You left, and Sun and Moon returned to their room.
It was Sun who immediately started bawling, sobs wracking his body as his face contorted into something pained. He held onto the little pouch in his hands, sitting himself on the bed before carefully opening it.
He only sobbed harder, and Moon choked as he saw what was inside.
Inside sat your jewelry. Those beautiful sun-moon earrings, the bracelets, the necklace, everything.
Moon wailed. The sound was disconcerting to come out of Moon’s voice box, as he was usually so stoic and quiet, never the loudly emotional one. But yet, he cried, messy and ugly, he cried.
You had left them, and you had left any tokens of them you could have kept dear.
It truly was their fault, they believed. It was their fault you left and it was their fault they never got the chance to know you and it was their fault you hated them enough to leave.
All their fault, all their fault, all their fault.
===
It was desperation that brought them here. Moon has been doing terribly since he watched you leave the castle in the dead of night. He hadn’t been able to catch up with you, only able to watch as you walked out and out of reach.
But now, here they both sit, Sun and Moon, in a dimly lit room, at a cloth-covered table with an imprint in the center that suggests the crystal ball on the edge had been originally sitting in the middle.
They can hear the Magician’s steps throughout the shop, the canid muttering to themselves as they lit incense and candles throughout. Their eyes were bright as ever but help a strong frustration in them as they murmured, looking between Sun and Moon before shaking their head.
“I knew better than to expect you would not show up eventually. The Fool left, as they should have.”
The Magician’s voice was without pity. It made both Jesters shirk back in their seats, squeezing each other’s hands.
“Do… Do you believe the cards could give us any guidance?” Sun asked, hesitantly. The Magician sat down across from them, pulling out their deck of cards.
“I do, yes. The cards can always have things to say. But you very well may not like what the cards have to say. There is no room to be picky with them, Jesters,” Fitzy spoke, shuffling the deck in their hands before laying out the cards on their faces, only the backs showing.
“Choose three, Jesters.” They said, waiting with their hands together.
Moon chose the cards. He pointed out each one, and the Magician took them, shuffling the rest of the cards back together.
Fitzy flipped over the first card. It was upside-down, with a picture of the sun on it. “The Sun, reversed.”
They point to the next one, and flip it over. Like the first, it is upside-down, and the picture on it is of two nude figures, a man and a woman. “The Lovers, reversed.”
The last card is flipped over. Just like the first two, it is upside down, and the picture is that of a moon. “The Moon, reversed.”
Now, Sun and Moon are no stranger to the cards, they know what they mean. They know exactly what they are faced with, but truthfully they cannot accept it.
The magician is aware.
“The Sun, reversed. It signifies negativity, depression, and sadness. The Moon, reversed. It signifies confusion, fear, and misunderstandings.” They say, skipping over the Lovers initially.
They tap on the center card, narrowing their eyes. “The Lovers, reversed. One-sidedness.”
“No, no, no, it can’t- surely it can’t,” Sun pleaded. “Please try again, there must be something wrong,”
The Magician merely sighs. Shuffling the cards again, they then lay out all the cards as they had before. It is Sun who picks out the three cards.
Fitzy puts them forward, and flips them over. The Magician does not even look at the cards, already knowing exactly what is before them. “The Sun, reversed. The Lovers, reversed. The Moon, reversed.”
Moon shakes his head, in disbelief before he growls and swipes the three cards across the table, leading them to flutter to the floor. “Again, it cannot be right!”
And the Magician does it all again, the three cards left discarded on the floor. Again, they lay out the cards, and Moon picks three. The Magician’s face is stony, displeased, and unsympathetic as they turn over the cards and read them out.
“The Sun, reversed. The Lovers, reversed. The Moon, reversed.”
Before either Sun or Moon can even protest, they begin flipping over the other cards, baring their teeth.
“The Sun, reversed. The Lovers, reversed. The Moon, reversed.”
“The Sun, reversed. The Lovers, reversed. The Moon, reversed.”
“The Sun, reversed. The Lovers, reversed. The Moon, reversed.”
“The Sun, reversed. The Lovers, reversed. The Moon, reversed.”
“The Sun, reversed. The Lovers, reversed. The Moon, reversed.”
And it continued, until all the cards had been flipped over, and all of them, row after row, showed the same three cards.
“Do you see, now?! Foolish Jesters? Do you see now that the cards have spoken and that they will not change their opinions? Do you see now that looking away changes nothing? Will you act? Will you simply stand there and stare and wail?” The canid shouts, standing up from their place. They looked angry, frustrated.
“Do you want answers? A way to fix things? Or are you just going to sit there and wallow in your emotions, in your confusion, your misunderstandings, your depression, your sadness, are you simply going to dwell on it all?!” They huff, throwing their hands up in the air. “The All Skies Dance will have no place for teary-eyed Jesters, you know!”
And with that, they slam down two envelopes, cream in color with a royal seal on them. The wax is marbled with red and gold.
Silence falls over the Jesters. Moon is the first to grab the envelope, carefully opening it. The letter within makes his eyes widen. Sun is then quick to open the other letter as well. They are perfectly identical.
Sun and Moon Celiare,
You have been formally invited to this year’s All Skies Dance, held in the Eastern Empire of the Penumbra, ruled by the shining star of our Empire, Emperor Eclipse Reiina.
You are invited on behalf of the Imperial Magician, specially mentioned by name to Emperor Eclipse Reiina.
The All Skies Dance shall begin at sundown on the 25th of the current month, in the ballroom of the Imperial Palace.
May this year be filled with good fortune.
The Eastern Empire of the shining Penumbra
They gawk at it, in near disbelief. But, of course, it brings forth many questions. Why did Fitzy present these to them? They had never met another Magician, nor had they met anyone from the Eastern Empire.
So who knew their names? Who had invited them?
Why?