Underoverworked

by Rytel

Rating: everyone
Tags: Comedy
Length: 5022

With Luna assuming her duties, Celestia must figure out what to do with her newfound free time.

Princess Luna has returned! After many months recuperating from her banishment and reclaiming her divine ability, the younger sister is once again raising the moon and taking on her duties as Celestia's equal. Everything is as it should be… except for one problem Celestia never anticipated. With her workload effectively halved and a good night's sleep a millennium-old memory, the elder princess must face her greatest challenge yet: boredom.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-03-06 17:34:49 UTC

The Insomniac

She couldn’t sleep. As always, it would seem, but these were different circumstances.

Before, she, in the truest technical terms, could indeed sleep. But she couldn’t afford to. Celestia and Luna were meant to rule Equestria together. Each of them agreed that neither should have supreme power over the other, and splitting the monarchical duties would allow the sisters to keep each other in check, ensuring a continued reign of peace that they had worked so hard to grant to their nation. For decades this strategy worked admirably, however, it was not without its flaws. For one, it failed to take into account any sort of outside influence. Specifically, corrupting outside influence.

At least, it must have been such corrupting, heinous influence that caused her younger sister to become the tyrannical Nightmare Moon, that forced Celestia’s hand and Luna’s millennium-long banishment. The elder princess refused to believe otherwise. However, by now such musings were of little matter and summarily dismissed by nothing short of royal decree. For the first time in a thousand years, all was well and everything was safe and sound in the royal court, as Luna had returned, gladly accepting her throne and rightful place as Princess of the Night. Celestia no longer had to raise the moon; she no longer had to perform Luna’s duties as well as her own in regards to bureaucrats, representatives, lobbyists and diplomats. Everything was as they had originally planned.

It was a good system, one that should have worked for a thousand years and with any amount of luck will indeed work for a thousand years more. However, it still wasn’t without its flaws, one of them being precisely why Celestia couldn’t sleep: there were things that needed to be done. Or, at least, there were supposed to be.

Celestia had never sought out assistants to accomplish Luna’s work; this ensured that there would always be a place for her sister when or if she ever managed to return. No, not if. When. Always when. Instead, she elected to perform these duties herself, no matter how exhausting it became. Every day, every night, nary a vacation or a break. It had to be this way, as there were exactly enough hours in the day (given the sun and moon rose on time) for her to do all her paperwork, and Luna’s paperwork, and attend her various meetings, and hear the petitions of citizens (much of the time concerning things she couldn’t do a thing about if she tried, and would make the general population actively worse off if she could), and personally mentor, over the centuries, dozens of students, and perhaps have an hour or two a night to rest her eyes if fate was merciful. Celestia would never admit to anypony how close the schedule drove her to madness over the first few decades, but it was of little consequence now. The experience had galvanized her body and mind to where it was a rare moment, perhaps once every few years, that she as much as felt tired, all of which she tried to explain to Luna concerning how often she was caught observing the younger sister’s handiwork.

But no. She needed her sleep. She deserved her sleep, and to be perfectly fair, she wanted her sleep. Not that any of that meant it was going to be granted to her.

With a sigh, the alicorn finally decided to stand back up. Perhaps it was the bed. Granted, this was the third bed brought to her this month, and the second built to her exact measurements and specifications in order to ensure maximum comfort, but nothing could be perfect, she supposed. Maybe she could find the time to ask for another one. They’d do it, of course, though it did still seem like such a hassle. Not only would everypony even remotely associated with the bed profusely apologize, but even more exacting specifications would be drawn up for the new bed requiring even more of her time. It’s not their fault. It wasn’t the bed; Celestia was anything but stupid. It was a perfectly good bed- no, more than perfectly good. The quality was only short of divine due to it being built by mortal ponies. Maybe someday she’d find a way to fall asleep in it.

She could spend this time gathering an early start on the morning’s paperwork, of course. In theory, anyway. In practice, all that left was a block of time in which there was little for her to do but attempt to make small talk with the guards, where attempt is clearly the key word. While she would never doubt their diligence and most of the time greatly appreciated their professionalism and tact, she still felt that it wouldn’t hurt them to lighten up every once in a while. It wouldn’t hurt anypony, for that matter. Celestia still despised being forced for the sake of public opinion to agree when the press called last year’s Gala “the most horrible disaster to ever happen to Canterlot.” Just the thought of those words made her want to come up with something even better for this year. Sometimes she could swear the horns on the Canterlot elite were simply the end section of sticks wedged that far up their collective posterior. At least when she issued a press release stating that “the ponies whose actions caused the destruction of the Grand Ballroom will be held responsible and will get exactly what they deserve,” she didn’t have to lie. That’s exactly what happened. She paid for their donuts.

Celestia walked over to the window, gazing out at the dark sky. It was all she could ever really do at night anymore. It was dull, but at least it was pleasant, not to mention beautiful. Luna was mainly known for raising the moon, but as Celestia quickly discovered, the moon was the easy part. It was the stars that proved an impossible task. Few ponies that didn’t have a telescope adorning their flank ever noticed, but even after literally hundreds of thousands of tries she never could quite get them perfect. There was always one a bit too bright, one a bit too dim, one a bit too far to the left or the right, a constellation slightly off-model... and yet here was Luna, her powers back and affixing the stars to the sky as expertly as if she had never left. It truly was wonderful for Luna to be back, and almost as wonderful for her to be taking her duties seriously, even if that meant less for Celestia to do herself...

Celestia smiled. Perhaps that was it.

“Luna?”

The younger sister looked up from her desk, taking a short reprieve from her paperwork. Something about zoning regulations, as far as Celestia could tell from a cursory glance. “Hello, Tia. You cannot sleep again, I take it?”

“No, it’s not that. You should have seen me just a few hours ago, snoozing away as peaceful as a newborn foal! I might have even been snoring a little.”

Luna paused for a beat before replying. “Forgive me if I remain unconvinced.”

Celestia sighed, yet not without a slight smile. Among the many things she’d missed about Luna was her particular brand of wit. “You know me too well.”

“As well I believe I should. You haven’t changed much, all things considered.”

“Neither have you. I’m glad.” Celestia thought for a second, desperate for another compliment. “Your... speech has... really been improving. You don’t seem as keen on the ‘thee’ and ‘thou’ and all that as much-”

“I would have done it sooner had someone not informed me that the Royal Canterlot manner of addressing our subjects still required such vocabulary.”

“Actually, technically speaking, I didn’t tell you to speak like that as much as I specifically never told you not to speak like that...”

“Those are effectively one and the same.”

“Not really... I didn’t tell you anything. I simply didn’t tell you everything, and you did all the assuming for yourself.”

Luna lowered her eyes. “So why am I graced with your presence, Tia, when you should be getting some much-needed rest?”

“Well... have I told you how beautiful the night skies have been looking recently?”

“Not since yesterday, no.”

“Well, I mean it, Luna. Every star in perfect position... you’re doing a marvelous job. In fact, you’re doing such a good job that... why don’t you just go ahead and take the night off? I’ll cover for you.”

“With all due respect, dear sister, I’d like to decline your offer. Perhaps some other time I will be more pleased to have the time off, but as I’m still becoming acclimated to what my job entails in this day and age, it would be best if I stayed the course and-”

“Come on, Luna, don’t you think you work enough?”

“You’re saying you don’t?”

“Well... these papers you have to sort out right here. I can see you’re having trouble with them, and I’ve done these bothersome things a thousand times, so if you need the help, I’m perfectly willing to-”

“The offer’s appreciated, but these are things I need to learn how to properly do, preferably by actually doing them. Besides, I doubt I’m having as much trouble as you claim.”

Celestia grumbled. Luna was apparently cunning enough to see through her guise but not quite cunning enough to take the hint. Either that or she was just that stubborn. “Seriously, Luna. You do a great job, but you work plenty. You deserve a night off.”

“I also deserve to be able to perform my duties as intended, wouldn’t you agree?”

Celestia was silent; this was an argument she simply wasn’t going to win.

“Sister,” Luna stated, her mouth curving into a bemused smile, “you can’t possibly truly desire to work on these papers that not thirty seconds ago you declared were ‘bothersome’ and thus unfit for the Princess of the Night to handle with any sort of diligence, can you?”

Celestia shifted her eyes away, her head subconsciously angling downward as Luna’s smile grew wider.

“Admit it, Tia. You’re bored.”

“No. No, no, of course not! I don’t get bored. I don’t have the time, or the opportunity.”

“Before, perhaps. But now you do, and here we are.”

“It’s not that at all, Luna! I’m trying to be kind and assist you with your work, but you clearly don’t want the help.”

Luna chuckled to herself. It truly was a shame that Celestia had found herself with so little to do, after all. She could only imagine her sister’s plight, as it wasn’t as though Luna had ever found herself in such a lamentable state during her centuries spent banished with little but the dust and rocks to keep her company.

Oh wait.

“I would rather you find a way to sleep,” Luna said, “but there are plenty of quite entertaining hobbies out there, as I’m sure you know. I doubt it’d be difficult for you to find one that piques your interests.”

“I don’t need a hobby, Luna. Besides, I have a hobby. I teach.”

“That doesn’t feel like a hobby as much as an additional duty you managed to grant yourself.”

Luna had a point. Anyone who simply observed the classes would consider it yet another wing of Celestia’s very involved, complicated job. However, it was actually the time she most looked forward to, because for once it didn’t feel quite like work, not to mention how it allowed her to maintain a casual rapport with a unicorn who wasn’t royalty, on necessarily even upper class. Somepony per generation deserved that, for certain.  “That’s because I still take it very seriously, both the school and my private mentoring. You’ve met Twilight Sparkle, haven’t you?”

“Twilight Sparkle... you mean the unicorn that wields the Element of Magic, whose actions cleansed the corruption of Nightmare Moon from my very essence, as well as the mare who assisted me in becoming more personable toward our subjects during Nightmare Night, despite your apparently indirect intentions? No, I’ve never seen her before in my life. A shame, really.”

This time it was Celestia’s turn to lower her eyes. “You don’t have to be so sarcastic.”

“In any case, yes, I’ve indeed met her. She’s your prized student and certainly deserves the accolade. I never said you weren’t taking your duties seriously; I was merely one to suggest that you may instead wish to discover a more traditional hobby. Something in the arts... painting, perhaps? You could learn in instrument... there’s all sorts of things out there to alleviate your boredom; you should know this as well as I.”

“I’m not bored.”

Luna smirked. “Are too.”

“I am not. In fact... I know something I need to do right now. I bet you Twilight’s staying up well past midnight again studying, and she needs to be told that she needs to get more sleep herself. I mean, after all, she’s a mortal pony, unlike myself, and so she needs to worry about rest far more than I do, you understand.”

“What I understand is that you’ve brought it upon yourself to pester your student out of boredom.”

“No, I am not ‘pestering’ her; I am guiding and mentoring her. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some work to do.”

“I believe it was your hobby? Do I once again stand corrected?”

“You keep up that acid tongue and maybe I’ll spend this time coming up with new pranks.”

“Perish the thought, dear sister.”

Celestia shook her head. “Just keep in mind,” she said, walking to the door, “you’ve spent a long time recuperating, but since now you’re perfectly healthy... I can stop going easy on you whenever I want.”

Luna gave out another light chuckle, clearly accepting the challenge in stride. Truth be told, seeing that Celestia was still a trickster after all this time was a breath of the freshest air in Equestria. Even after ten centuries apart and actions that could and quite possibly should have forced an implacable rift between them, their sisterly rivalry could continue unabated. “Perish. The. Thought. So go, tend to your student, whatever her name is; I’m afraid I’ve already forgotten. It isn’t as though she saved the world or anything...”

“Twilight Sparkle. And I’ll be sure to let her know you can’t remember it.”

Celestia sighed pleasantly as she walked out. Every conversation, no matter how bitter the apparent tone, confirmed that it indeed was a very good thing to have Luna back, even if it did mean a significantly reduced workload. Not that visiting Twilight in the middle of the night had anything to do with that, of course. This was her duty as a mentor, as well as something she honestly should have done a long time ago, given the unicorn’s propensity for reading by candlelight. Straining her eyes like that will only hurt her in the long run, so it’s best she takes preventative action now.

Besides, Celestia thought as she leaped from the balcony, taking flight, perhaps I’ll get lucky and one of the spells she’s been working on is a cure for insomnia.

The Scholar

This was impossible.

 Telekinesis, that is, the manipulation of objects via one’s horn, was easily the simplest spell in any unicorn’s repertiore, one that many foals practically learned via instinct, most even before receiving their cutie mark. Even those whose jobs had no sort of magical requirements used the spell, often several times a day, if not more, as it was an unquestioned facet of everyday unicorn life.

Yet here stood one of the finest magical prodigies in Equestria’s history, staring into an empty scroll. Empty because she could not muster the strength to lift the quill to write upon it. Try as she might, as hard as she could concentrate, the lavender mare grew far closer to bursting a vein in her forehead than causing the quill to budge.

This doesn’t happen. This couldn’t happen. Not to anypony, and especially not to her. Yet it was true; something was causing her magic to become sapped. Was she sick? She didn’t feel as though she was coming down with anything. Tired? It was hard to say, for the panic had shunted her wide awake. Or maybe, just maybe... she was out of practice.

That too seemed impossible. But was it? Sure, she used her magic every day, but if she truly was such a prodigy, logically she would have to train harder than anypony else to keep up that level of skill. So perhaps it was true, and she did indeed let her abilities atrophy. Which, of course, could mean only one thing. It would be imperative that she take the time to relearn this, the most basic of all unicorn spells; to return to the place where foals were taught to harness their first inklings of the arcane: Magic Kindergarten.

“Twilight?”

That must have been them. She didn’t know how, but somehow, Celestia knew. She knew that her most faithful student had turned into her most spectacular failure, and had done no less than dispatch her royal guards to drag the unicorn back to Canterlot to relearn what she by all means should know.

The classes... the fillies... the names, the taunts... so much laughter, yet so few reasons to crack a smile...

“It’s okay. It’ll all be okay! I don’t need this dumb old magic anyway, right? I can just go live as an earth pony! I’ll wear a hood all the time so nopony can see my horn, and I’ll run a roadside stand selling apple fritters! It’s foolproof! Absolutely nothing can stop-”

“Twilight?”

“Oh who am I kidding this is hopeless!” The unicorn’s heart raced, her breathing becoming even heavier than the apparent weight of that Discord-cursed quill. “But I don’t care! I’m not going back, you hear me? I’m not going back! I’m never going back!”

“Twilight! Wake up!”

“You’ll never take me! I’ll fight every last- huh what?”

Twilight Sparkle looked from side to side, up and down. There was the window, broadcasting the night sky despite the sun being out when the guards came knocking. Her bed, which she was currently in, a far cry from a few seconds ago pacing around the room in a daze. And, finally, a baby dragon and number one assistant, looking understandably concerned given the unicorn’s apparent fate, though she was beginning to suspect the troubles were of a different sort.

“Twilight!” the dragon said. “Good, you’re awake. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine... I guess.” Twilight shook the few remaining cobwebs out of her head, trying to make sense of all this. “Spike, why did you wake me up in the middle of the night?”

“The Princess is here!”

“She’s what? Spike, why didn’t you tell me sooner? Did she say why?”

“She said she wanted to talk to you... something about your studies?”

“My... studies?” Twilight’s lavender coat practically paled to white at the thought. What could she have possibly done to warrant an emergency meeting? At this time of night? Where the Princess comes to visit her? “Okay, Spike. Don’t worry. Don’t even begin to worry. It’ll be fine. I have a plan. All I have to do is get Rarity to make me a hooded coat, and Pinkie to teach me some recipes, and everypony else to build me a roadside stand-”

“Twilight? Are you there?” This was no royal guard; the voice was much more calm, delicate, and regal. None other than Princess Celestia herself.

“Okay... Spike! New plan! You distract her, and I’ll jump out the window! Sure, I might fracture a leg, but that’s okay, ‘cause legs heal. So then I’ll limp over to Rarity’s and hide out there for a few weeks until-”

“Twilight Sparkle,” Celestia announced as she opened the door to the unicorn’s bedroom, “have you been up all night studying again?”

“No! I’m sorry I’ll try harder please don’t send me...” Twilight paused, mentally replaying what had just transpired. “Wait, what did you say?”

Celestia spoke again, her voice calm yet stern. “Have you been up all night studying?”

A long pause filled the room as Twilight thought over the sentence once more. “Was... I supposed to be?”

Celestia smiled. “I would prefer if you didn’t.”

Twilight breathed an enormous sigh of relief. “Oh! Oh good. Very good. Very great! No, no, I went to bed a couple of hours after sunset. I’d say that’s about when most ponies go to bed, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes, that is perfectly fine. Excellent work, Twilight.”

Another pause, even longer and more stifling. “So... is that it?” Twilight smiled nervously.

Celestia frowned. No. No, that couldn’t be it. If that was indeed it, then she’d have no reason to be in Twilight’s company and would have to fly back home... and spend another sleepless night staring at the sky. “No... not necessarily... um... your friendship reports?”

“My... reports? What about them? Aren’t I doing a good job-”

“Oh, absolutely. You’re an excellent student, really. However... personally, I think it would be a good idea if you... organized all your reports into a sort of-”

“Done!” Twilight stated proudly, levitating over a thick binder full of papers (with not a small amount of relief that she was fully able to do so). “This is a copy of every friendship report I’ve sent you since moving to Ponyville. All of them numbered, stamped, summarized, alphabetized, sorted, collated, and ironed.”

Celestia raised her eyebrow. “Ironed?”

“Well... some of the pages were a bit crinkly.”

The alicorn flipped through the pages, quite impressed. Twilight had done a marvelous job of this. Too marvelous, in fact, being that project was designed to burn a few hours, yet here it was completed in a manner of seconds. Still, she could hardly fail her student for that.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s... fantastic. I certainly wasn’t expecting you to go to this much trouble.”

“Well, after all that happened before when I was tardy at giving you my report, I realized that while I shouldn’t have a let a small problem turn into a large one, proper preparation would have prevented the small problem in the first place! And I imagined that at some point you would have asked for such an assignment, so I went ahead and did it.”

“You... don’t say.”

“It’s a good thing I thought ahead, isn’t it? Though to honest, I didn’t expect you to suddenly come here to ask me for it in the middle of the night...”

“Yes. Well, I don’t blame you. This was something of a spur of the moment idea...” Celestia frowned in thought. “So... is there anything else that you need?”

“Not really... I don’t think.”

“Ah. No, no, that’s fine. I merely wanted to ask. I should probably let you get back to sleep... at least one of us should be able to.”

“You can’t sleep? Princess, I thought you didn’t have to sleep.”

Celestia sighed. “Strictly speaking, I don’t. Anymore. However, with Luna’s return to her throne I have... large gaps of free time during the night hours, and I would like to do as almost all of my subjects do and fill them with sleep.” A light groan left her mouth as the alicorn shifted her gaze. “A task I am finding far easier said than done.”

“Can’t you just do... other things?” Twilight asked, then paused to consider her question. “This is why you’re here, isn’t it?”

Celestia’s gaze shifted again, still not quite making eye contact. “Perhaps, but as your mentor I believe that I should take every precaution to ensure your studies go as intended.”

“They are, right?”

“Of course they are.”

“So... um... Princess, forgive me for asking, but... did you wake me up in the middle of the night because you’re bored?”

Celestia subconsciously took half a step back at the thought. “What? Oh, no. No, most certainly not. I don’t get bored. I simply... have a surplus of free time and little to fill it with. It’s quite different when you think about it.”

Twilight pondered the situation. “You didn’t have free time before?”

The princess groaned, trying not to roll her eyes and failing. “Officially, yes. Unofficially, my ‘free time’ activities are things carefully scheduled and structured to give myself the appearance of empathy with the common citizen. I would argue against it more fervently if it didn’t appear to work.”

 “Well, in that case... what did you do in your free time before you had all these royal duties?”

“You mean... before Discord? Back when I was a filly?”

“Well... I suppose, yes.”

“Oh, well... that was thousands of years ago. I could hardly do anything similar these days.”

“Things couldn’t have been that different, could they?”

“Not entirely, but... I’d rather not go into the details.”

Twilight shrugged. “If you say so.”

Another sleepless night, yet this time not within the castle grounds. Fly off the balcony and enjoy a stroll around the slumbering streets of Canterlot. Why didn’t Celestia think of this sooner? Of course, she did practically have to escape her own castle without the guards noticing, as royal protocol still dictated that the princess be accompanied by an entourage for protection. She always thought that was stupid of course. Even if there were ponies out there who wished to assault her, and she imagined there were as nopony is one hundred percent liked, including her, it would be easy enough to dismiss them before they could touch either her or the guards.

Technically, it would be a banishment to the local jail, though she chose not to use that term anymore to describe it, as everypony associated banishment with the moon.

It was an isolated incident. It happened exactly once. If she was clear of mind it would’ve happened exactly never. At least that’s what she told herself.

No matter the case, it was over now. Luna had forgiven her. That was the important part.

Celestia continued her walk, wandering around before stumbling upon the Canterlot Museum of Equestrian History. She chuckled to herself a bit at the thought. For most ponies, a tour of the building would be an enriching, if a bit dry, look at Equestria’s past. For her, the walk around would be nothing less than a nostagic look back.

“Hmm... what I did as a filly... I suppose it would be nice to remind myself.”

She tried the door. Locked. Of course it was locked; the museum had long since closed for the day. However, there also didn’t appear to be anyone guarding the area...

As with any security worth its salt in a unicorn-dominated town, the lock was magically resistant, but that meant little against Celestia’s ability. For that matter, even Twilight was apt enough that she could easily pick locks if she wanted to.

Celestia made a mental note to never teach Twilight how to pick locks.

With a click, the door unlocked as the princess went inside, a small part of her idly wondering if this was what the guards were supposed to be protecting her from. Not that it helped.

“Your highness, there has been a break-in at the history museum!”

Luna looked up from her work with shock, practically leaping out of her seat, coming a few feet from the guard tasked with giving the dire news. “What transpired to cause this?”

“We don’t know, ma’am. The culprit appeared to have fled when they tripped the alarm system.”

“Was anything damaged or stolen?”

“Nothing damaged, ma’am. Even the lock broken to enter was picked cleanly. However, the culprit stole several of Princess Celestia’s personal effects.”

Luna’s eyes grew wide. “Has she been told?”

“No, ma’am. As per the new protocol, while the moon is risen you have the prerogative.”

“Then as my first act of duty, I shall inform her myself. Dismissed, guard.”

Running down the palace hallway was hardly regal, but Luna didn’t care at the moment. These were nothing less than her sister’s memories the thief had stolen, and though she was confident that the culprit would be caught and justice served, this didn’t change the fact that Celestia needed to know.

“Tia!” Luna shouted, practically slamming the door open, “Something horrible has-”

The sisters both froze. Celestia stared at Luna, suddenly realizing that she had forgotten to lock the door; Luna stared back at Celestia, wondering what she was doing reading to a plush rabbit so ancient that it looked like it could crumble to dust at a touch.

Luna took everything that had happened in the last few minutes into account... and began to snicker.

Celestia, however, was still frozen. “You saw nothing.”

“Perhaps, but even a blind mare may infer.”

“This is... rehearsal, Luna. I have an important meeting tomorrow morning with the ambassador from... erm, Hare... Island?”

Luna nodded, still smirking. “Quite. And in your wisdom, you felt it apropos to trespass and steal what appears to be-”

“I did not steal Sir Bunnykins! He was mine! You can’t steal something that was yours to begin with.”

“So you indeed took it from the museum then.”

Celestia paused, looking back at the rabbit. “I might have...”

Luna continued to chuckle. “You are aware that as Princess of the Night, it is my duty to report such crimes, as well as the circumstances surrounding them.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Luna thought for a beat before speaking. “No. No, I suppose I wouldn’t, for I do not as of yet have an adequate bargaining chip. Oh well, that is how it is. Good night, Tia. Please try to get some rest.”

Celestia breathed a sigh of relief as Luna closed the door. “She... you don’t think she would tell anypony, would she?”

Sir Bunnykins declined to answer.

“Sure, she can be a bit of a brat sometimes, but I do think she’s more reasonable than... why am I asking you?”

Sir Bunnykins remained in stoic silence.

Celestia looked from side to side, then playfully stuck out her tongue at the toy. “You’re no help.”