Twilight Sparkle Does Not Like Bees
Twilight entered the Royal Gardens; a private sanctuary for the princesses, where even the royal guards were not allowed admittance. A stone paved path led into the Gardens. It quickly split into branches that snaked around different groupings of flowers and a few fruit bearing plants. Large padded benches lined the paths at intervals so the princesses could stop and rest amid the beauty.
Cantering excitedly, Twilight searched for her mentor. Though the Gardens were not ‘large’ – given the standard size of a room in the palace – that didn’t make them small or any less maze-like. It took her a quarter hour to finish searching the Gardens, or rather, to finish searching the areas she had any desire to enter.
The note summoning her had been a simple one. An invitation, hoof delivered by a palace messenger, to join Celestia in the aforementioned Royal Gardens.
Living in the palace meant that Twilight had a statistically higher probability of seeing and speaking with her mentor then when she’d lived in Ponyville. Unfortunately, statistics did not always translate into reality – she’d already written angry letters to the heads of the C.S.F.G.U. math department complaining about that oversight.
Her excitement at receiving the missive had been extreme. Up until that point she’d been working on taxes.
Twilight despised taxes.
This might appear odd to the casual observer. Twilight was widely known for her studious nature, love of math, books, and digging through old forgotten tomes of ancient knowledge. Specifically, those lost in the depths of the most untraveled sections of the Canterlot Archives. That The Code has the unfortunate tendency to fall into that particular realm of reality would be the exception that proved the rule.
Little known to most sane ponies, for what should be obvious reasons, the Equestrian Aggregate Tertiary Ancillary Tax Judication’s were conceived during the period shortly after Luna’s banishment. It is a widely held belief that Celestia was not intimately involved in the creation of The Code and had sloughed it off to a rather sadistic, and mentally deranged, minor noble. This belief is held almost entirely by the residents of the Canterlot Mental Health and Well-being Institute – formerly the Equestrian Tax Bureau’s head office. Only one pony knows for sure.
It had never been reviewed... until now.
The wrong word overheard by chance. That was all it took to drag Equestria’s newest princess down into the depths of the Canterlot Archives. Finding a complete copy of The Code had taken only time. Carrying it to a table had taken a trolley.
Five hours, two pages, and one migraine later, left Twilight with no clue as to how anypony knew what they owed or who made sure they paid it.
Then the courier had shown up to save her from herself.
Twilight hesitated, staring down the last trail like it led into the black heart of the Everfree, instead of the back corner of the Royal Gardens. Turning around was still an option. Forget the message and return to The Code, attempting to play it off the next time Celestia and she should meet. The prospect was enticing enough that Twilight almost turned around... almost.
Two things stopped her. The first was her memory. Next to a certain pink party pony, Twilight had one of the most accurate and complete memories of her generation. She was able to recall facts and figures from books she’d read once, years ago, while half asleep and cramming for the next morning’s exam. Second, she had a terrible poker face. Of everypony she knew, only Applejack was worse at lying.
Steeling herself, Twilight began to trot down that path.
Her worst fears were confirmed. Celestia stood in the small clearing at the back corner of the Gardens... surrounded by bees. Not a few bees, mind you – a few bees she could accept, a few bees could be found hovering around every flower in the Gardens. No, Celestia wasn’t surrounded by a few bees, she was surrounded by swarms: plural.
Twilight did not like bees. It wasn’t like she hated them. Truth be told, she loved them. They were an absolute necessity for the continued existence of Equestria. Bees accounted for half of Equestria’s crop production. No farm had less than three hives on its property – Sweet Apple Acres had ten. Bees were wonderful, and honey was merely a glorious golden side benefit. A hive was even hanging from a branch of the library back when she’d lived in Ponyville.
That did not mean she liked them. Any pony who’d had the misfortune of being on the wrong end of a stinger held a healthy respect for the miniature anger management dropouts. Being attacked by a rampaging swarm once was more than enough, thankyouverymuch! Not being allergic did not make it hurt any less!
Twilight always came prepared with complete protection for those few times she’d found it necessary to disturb her hive. Celestia, it seemed, did not.
The tall white alicorn stood proudly over the three white, shoulder high boxes wearing naught but a simple veil over her head. Though her horn was lit, the golden aura did not work at anything except the tools and frames floating around her head as she inspected the open hives.
Twilight inched only close enough to ensure that she could be heard over the cacophony of buzzing wings. "P-Princess?"
Celestia turned toward her student and smiled. With careful movements of her wing, the princess motioned at the ground to Twilight’s left. “There is a veil for you, Princess. You wouldn’t want one of them to find its way into your mouth.”
Twilight blushed at the slight rebuke and quickly turned her head. She spotted the wide brimmed hat with a drop down veil and lifted it in her field. With the minimalist protection in place, Twilight swallowed back her fear and crept forward. Even with the veil to protect her face, she couldn’t help but pause and duck everytime a bee buzzed by on its way to find more flowers. Every step brought the newest alicorn closer to the gathered swarms, and every buzz caused the small hairs of her mane to stand straighter.
Still, she pushed forward. The promise of knowledge was so enticing that the sight of hundreds, no, thousands of bees crawling all over Celestia's white coat couldn’t keep her back – though it made a valiant effort.
She couldn’t help imagining them on her own coat, inspecting her fur, looking for the perfect place to jab their hellish little nightmare stingers. It took her a moment to realize that it wasn't entirely her imagination.
Five bees had already landed on her! She looked down and froze in terror. One of the little demons was on her shoulder, its wings pumping every few seconds to produce that all too distinctive buzz. The urge to swat it crept down her spine, and she struggled not to follow through; it would only guarantee the sting. Her horror only increased as her eyes were drawn to its pulsating abdomen, always on the verge of pumping venom into her sensitive hide.
"Do not worry, Twilight. They will not sting you."
"How can you be sure?" she asked weakly.
"Do you trust me?"
What? How could she ask that? Of course she did! How could she not trust her? She was Celestia, a Princess of Equestria since as long as any pony but she herself could remember, raiser of the sun, teacher, mentor... friend.
But these were BEES! Tiny horrors with wings and serrated daggers of venom pumping terror built into their butts! It would only take a single misstep, one errant flap of a wing. A single sting and she’d be running for her life... again!
Her wings twitched and sent three new arrivals tumbling to the ground. Twilight stepped back ready to bolt. Her panicking eyes caught the princess' gaze, and she froze again. Did she trust the princess enough to walk into a swarm of bees? What if she didn’t? Would Celestia be unwilling to teach her anymore? Could this be the end of her training just because she refused to stand on the precipice of hellish agony?
Using the breathing technique she had learned from Cadence, Twilight steeled herself and stepped forward into the swarm.
There Twilight stood, flank to flank with Princess Celestia, in the terrifying epicenter of a spinning black and yellow storm. Her breath came in shallow puffs and she shook like Pinkie after a cup of espresso. She knew that at any moment the first sting would come. The first sting, as bad as it would be, would only be the herald. With it would come the attack pheromones and every bee from the hive would be driven to follow suit to protect their hive and queen.
She had to get away before something changed. Flying was out, the chance of catching a bee between her wings and barrel was too great, and the displaced air would only anger them more. Teleporting was out, the hundreds already clinging to her coat would be carried through the between – and she had no idea what that would do to them. Running, however, running was good. A quick spin and bolt and she would be safely away before they knew had happened.
Only she was already there, the warmth of Celestia's wing settling across her. "Tell me, my faithful student, what do you know of the apiary social structure?"
Twilight closed her eyes, fighting past the desire to whimper and the millions of legs clinging to her coat, to recall everything she knew about them.
"B-B-Beehives c-consist of three basic t-types of bees," Twilight said, slowly gaining confidence as she dug through her memories. "The w-workers, the drones, and the queen. The workers make up n-ninety-nine percent of the population and are responsible for almost everything that happens in the hive. From collecting pollen and nectar, to building the hive, to making honey; it's all the workers. The drones are the males and serve only in reproduction, they lack st-stingers. The queen is singular in the hive. She directs its activities and lays the eggs. All her needs are seen to by the workers."
Twilight opened her eyes to see a smile that she knew all too well. It was small. The same smile she received every time she gave an answer that was both one hundred percent correct and completely wrong.
In all her years as Celestia’s pupil, Twilight had never been given an answer. Never had Celestia told her the information to figure out the answer to a problem. No, Twilight was the student and it was her job to figure out the answers. Celestia was only there to guide her down the right path.
"Tell me, Twilight,” the Princess asked, scraping excess wax off the hive, “how do bees communicate?"
"Through complex dances and pheromones."
Celestia pulled out a new frame of comb. It was covered so utterly in bees that it looked like a moving, buzzing, carpet more than anything else. After carefully inspecting the bees themselves, she gave the frame a practiced flick and two thousand bees dropped. Most caught themselves mid fall and flew back toward the hive.
"Continue."
Once again, Twilight lost herself in lecture mode. "Bee dances are a complex set of patterns that communicate the location and amount of a particular flower that has been found. As reports come in from the scouts, the harvesters are sent out based on that information. Pheromones serve more basic and immediate functions. The queen produces a constant pheromone that lets all the workers know that she is alive and well. The workers also produce a specific pheromone that identify them as part of the hive. When they sting, or are killed, they produce a unique pheromone that serves to mark the target and draw the others to defend against the threat."
Celestia was quiet for a time as she worked the hive, removing the next frame before replacing the last. Twilight waited as patiently as she could. Things had gone well so far. None of the plethora of bees crawling over her coat had started the attack just yet. To distract herself, Twilight tried to figure out how Celestia was so calm. Was she immune to the venom? Did she not feel pain when she was stung? Were Alicorns immune to, or in some way protected from, the bees?
When the next frame came out Celestia made a small sound of approval. Turning the frame to Twilight, the younger mare flinched away from the thick carpet of buzzing, Celestia illuminated a single bee with her magic. In the midst of bees half her size was the queen. "Does the queen dance?"
Gathering herself, Twilight began to answer on reflex but stopped. It wasn't that she didn't know the answer, because she did. The queen did not dance. It would be impossible. She was surrounded by caretakers from the moment she started laying eggs. They fed her, and cleaned her, and even removed her waste. But there, the queen glowing right in front of her eyes, Twilight realized something, something so plainly obvious that it had never registered.
The queen did not rule the hive.
She was the most important single bee, to be sure; she provided stability, a center around which the workers all rotated. Like the eye of the hurricane, she defined the hive... but she did not direct the winds.
"No... she doesn't."
Celestia smiled again, warmer this time. She'd reached the proper understanding, learned the lesson being taught. Only that wasn’t it at all. There was still something she wasn’t getting.
The frame pulled back, returning to the hive. "Tell me, Twilight, how long do bees live?"
"A worker lives for two months or so. Throughout their life they progress through almost every job within the hive, starting by nursing the newborns until they finally drop from exhaustion while out harvesting."
"And the queen?"
"Roughly four years."
"Then what happens?"
"Her pheromones will begin to weaken. The workers will sense this change and make a special cell to hatch a new queen...” Twilight’s voice faded out, and her brow furrowed as she finally caught up with the words leaving her own mouth. She looked up at Princess Celestia.
Neither princess spoke as the elder worked, and the younger thought. Celestia was meticulous and careful, cleaning each frame before returning it. The only sound was the constant buzzing of bees flying out to find flowers or returning with what they’d harvested. Twilight forgot her fear, too lost in her own mind to notice even if she had been stung.
With the last frame set in place, Celestia closed the final hive and turned to Twilight. “If I may make a suggestion, Twilight?”
“Yes, Pr – Celestia?”
Leading her away from the slowly quieting swarms, Celestia said, “Leave the E.A.T.A.T.J.’s to the bureau.”
“How did –”
Celestia smiled, draping an affectionate wing across her pupil’s withers. “Come, Princess Twilight Sparkle, for there is still much you need to learn.”
Author's Note
Thank you, I hope you enjoyed my story.
-Honey Mead
p.s. Bees are lovely creatures, don't hate on the bees.
