Princess Celestia looked up from her dinner of mushroom risotto and declared, “You're awfully chipper this evening.” Her voice echoed around the (frankly unnecessarily) large dining room, in which the royal sisters were eating their respective meals alone. Her guards had tried to insist on protection within the dining room itself, but Celestia argued that a pair of sisters had to have some time to gossip in private.
“Indeed.” replied her sister, herself enjoying a breakfast of piping hot porridge liberally sprinkled with cinnamon. “It concerns an article in this month's edition of Weird Fiction.”
“To be honest, I'm not overly familiar with it.” As a matter of fact, she'd never even heard of it, though she assumed that it was one of the magazines Luna was in the habit of reading during meals. But, of course, one does not say such things when one's little sister is so obviously gearing up for a spot of over-enthusiastic fangirling. If Luna was willing to indulge her whenever she started talking about exotic coffee blends, then she would just have to return the favour.
“Oh, you should try it. It collects short stories by authors of horror, fantasy, science fiction, that sort of thing. This issue has a new Lovecrop story, which is always a treat once you get past the queer notions he has regarding Zebras and Griffons - although, I'm more excited by the review of that new play Hossferatu.” The play in question had been doing the rounds at some of Equestria's second-string theatres. Apparently it had finally made its way to Canterlot, though Celestia assumed that it was not playing on Broadneigh, or even off-Broadneigh.
The play itself concerned an ancient vampire, a crumbling haunted castle and all manner of other ghastly things that made Celestia feel a little queasy if she thought about them for too long. No wonder Luna, with her famous taste for all things macabre and gruesome, had lapped it up. 'Give me a romance with a few fancy costumes and comedic misunderstandings over that lot any day', thought Celestia. With a little start, she realised that she had drifted off into thought. “Oh now I remember,” she said, “you attended the opening night, didn't you? Last Saturday, as I recall. You went with that strapping young guardsman you're so fond of.”
“Indeed I did, but I am not referring to that. Also, where Frolicsome Meadowlark and I go together is none of your business.” This last declaration was tempered with a poked-out tongue, for it was indeed true that Luna and Meadowlark had been seen together more often than one might expect given his rank of Corporal. It was also true, in Luna's opinion at least, that Corporal Meadowlark was “strapping”, and a great many other things besides - but this is not the place for listing Luna's opinions on him, as such a list would be both long and surprisingly vulgar.
Celestia nodded slowly, processing this turn of events. “Then you must mean that you know the reviewer. Or is critic the word? In any case, it's always so nice to see one's friends do well.”
“In a manner of speaking, yes, but it is rather more...I do not know if 'intimate' is the word? It seems to fit, but my chambermaid giggled uncontrollably when last I spoke it.”
“The playwright, then. You are a friend of the playwright.” 'Such an interesting word', thought Celestia. 'A craftsmare, but for plays. Maybe I should assign Twilight some research on the roots of words.'
“Neigh, that is not the case, though I would treasure his friendship.” Celestia noted the way Luna's voice seemed to hover over the word “his”. It made sense, she supposed. Back in her day, stallions had not often written much of anything – indeed, it had not been uncommon for rural stallions to be completely illiterate. Luna's reaction to the growth of the stallion liberation movement had been an interesting thing to watch. She had been totally unaware that there was any problem with the old system (as had Celestia herself a thousand years ago, if she was honest) but she soon grew to recognise the benefits of being able to carry on an intelligent conversation with a handsome young stallion – indeed, she was by this point more committed to gender equality than many modern mares.
Celestia shook her head, and cleared that tangent on social issues from her mind. Drifting off again, and into such heavy subject matter. Politics was the one topic one never discussed at the table, especially not the royal table. “What in the world do you mean to say, then?” Her eyes twinkled with a rare joy – it was not often that she truly had no idea as to the answer to a riddle. Anything that could really perplex her was something to be savoured, for it might not come again for months.
“You wondered if I knew the reviewer. As a matter of fact,” and here Luna's voice took on a touch of pride, “I am her. It's not just due to my station, either – they don't even know that I am their Canterlot reviewer. I wrote and submitted my review to them in a state of incognito.” Luna beamed. “My own writing, published!”
“Oh, wonderful! Congratulations! My little Luna, a published writer!” Her eyes had lit up, and she was beaming a smile that few were ever fortunate enough to see. It was the delight of the teacher who has been surpassed and is happy to know it. “How absolutely fabulous”
“I am hardly 'yours', Celestia. And I have not been little for quite some time.” Luna's voice was tinged with just a little smugness. Celestia decided that it was not unwarranted, under the circumstances.
“Shush, let me fawn over you a little bit. Since Twilight left town, I haven't had any opportunities to fawn properly. I've had to make do with gushing over the maids, and you know how shy they can be about that.”
Luna heaved a dramatic, long-suffering sigh, and flopped over her porridge. She used the opportunity to taste it, and found that it was starting to cool just a little too much for her liking. “Oh very well, if you insist. I suppose I shall just have to sit here and receive adulation.” Her tone implied that this would be a great burden – Luna had missed the development of sarcasm from a childish moan to an art form, but she had been very quick to catch up. “If I must be loved, then I must, no matter my most stringent objections”.
“How very generous of you”, replied Celestia, her tone light. She looked down at the day planner sitting next to her dinner, and tried to work out how much free time she'd have tomorrow. From the looks of it, things seemed pretty good on that front – though of course, that could always change.
Luna straightened herself up and composed herself in a dignified manner. “Well,” she said, starting on her breakfast again, “we all have to make sacrifices.”
