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The stars were placed in the sky a long, long time ago to keep the moon company. Or so they say. But if it’s true what they say, whoever they may be, then the moon must have been very lonely to justify placing all of the stars in the sky.
If the moon was so terribly lonely that he would ask for all the stars in the sky, then the moon probably counted each and every star. The moon counted the stars, named each of them and loved them as his own. Because they were, each of them, his own twinkle in an otherwise dark sky.
However, not every star was happy to be a twinkle in the sky. Not every star was made to merely be one tiny speck in the sky, but some stars–no, one star was made to shine brighter than every other star in the sky.
The brightest star in the sky wouldn’t be satisfied by being one star of millions, not when his light was so bright and so pure. He would spend every night, shining his brightest and doing his best, hoping to make the moon proud. However, he might see the moon, counting and naming and loving the other stars, calling them his own, and the brightest star in the sky might feel like his light isn’t bright enough.
And when the brightest star in the sky feels like he isn’t bright enough, isn’t enough, then he runs away. When the brightest star in the sky runs away, he falls, leaving a brilliant tail through the night sky, leading to a grove next to a waterfall. The star will walk on legs and feet, with eyes of silver and hair as dark as night, and he will hide himself among the trees and birds. It’s quiet here, where the wind whispers through the trees and he can still see the reflection of the moon in the water.
The thing is, however, that the moon knows each of the stars in the sky. There may be millions, but he knows them individually. He has named them and counted them, and he loves each and every one of them.
Some of them he loves more than others.
The moon picks favorites, you see, like the brightest start in the sky. He watches from afar as the brightest star shares his light with the world. He tries not to show favoritism, to show the same attention to all of the other stars in the sky, but the moon’s attention is always partially on the brightest star.
Which means that, when the star falls, the moon knows the moment it happens. He watches the trail across the heavens, marks the spot that the star lands, and watches for him to come home. When the brightest star doesn’t come home, the moon follows him, desperate to see his favorite star again.
The moon takes the form of a man, with legs and feet like the star’s, but his eyes and hair are golden, as bright as the light he exudes. The moon will walk through the grove, among the trees and the birds, and he will look for the lost star. “Sirius, why do you hide from me?”
Sirius emerges from behind a rock, where he hid when the moon walked among his trees. “You know my name?”
The Moon smiles, beautiful and kind, and Sirius is drawn toward him, two steps closer. “I named you. Do you think that I could forget you?”
“I didn’t think you noticed me,” Sirius says. He ducks his eyes, unable to look at the intensity of the Moon’s gaze any longer. “I don’t know your name. Do you have a name?”
“I have many names,” the Moon says. “Some call me the Moon, or Luna. The name I was given when I was created cannot be spoken with these mouths. But, you can call me Remus.”
“Remus,” Sirius says, tasting the name on his tongue. He likes the weight of it, like it was meant to be there. He repeats it again, getting a smile from Remus.
Sirius’s brow furrows. “There are so many stars in the sky, and you named all of them. I didn’t think you would remember– I mean, there’s no way that you know all of them.”
“I do,” Remus says. He closes the distance between them, hands coming up to cup Sirius’s face, tilting his star-bright eyes up toward the sky. “I was alone, for years, in a dark night sky all by myself. You and your family were made for me, you were my gifts and my comfort, and I cherish each one of you. I named you, because you are mine, and I know you.”
Sirius leans into his touch, hands coming to rest on Remus’s hips. “Why would you leave the sky full of stars to chase just one?”
“Do you think you are any less valuable to me because you are just one? Do you think I would let you go without notice, just because there are others?” Remus looks at him so intently that Sirius wonders if Remus can see right to his soul. “Besides, I may know you and all of your siblings, but I never said I didn’t have favorites.”
Sirius perks up at this revelation. It’s not lost on him that there’s a slight amused glint to Remus’s eyes. “You have favorites? Who are they?”
The moon raises an eyebrow, the corner of his lips tilting up. “Well, not favorite s, plural. Just one.”
“Just one?” Sirius asks, tilting his head into Remus’s hand.
“Just you,” Remus corrects. “Of all the stars in the sky, you are my favorite.”
“Me,” Sirius says, the awe so clear in his voice that he can’t even pretend to hide it.
“How could it not be you?” Remus asks, his voice indulgent. He brushes a strand of hair as dark as night from Sirius’s forehead, studying the starlight in his eyes. “The brightest star in the sky, shining just for me? How could I be anything but in love with you?”
Sirius’s shine doubles that day, or it feels like it, based on the way he glows after those words from Remus. “Then I’m your favorite.” Sirius reaches a hand up, touching Remus’s cheeks, then his lips, the tips of Sirius’s fingers a gentle glide against his skin. “And I belong to you. What are you going to do about it now?”
Remus took Sirius then, laying him out next to the pond in the little grove under the stars, making love that echoed throughout the galaxies. When they finished, Remus traced his finger down Sirius’s chest, marking him with runes that claimed him and spoke of affection and longing and, of course, of love.
The moon and the brightest star returned to the sky that night, though they were different. The moon never looked away from the star, even though there were dozens of other stars in the sky. The star shone as bright as he could, and sometimes, if he caught the moon looking, he would give a twinkling little wink.
And every once in a while, when the sky feels a little darker, the moon and the star meet by a waterfall in a little grove, and they remind each other just how bright they can shine.