One Night of Bliss

by Thimblefull

Rating: mature
Tags: Romance
Length: 1345

Celestia spends the night wIth Twilight

Princess Celestia spends the night with Twilight Sparkle.

A side story to 108Echoes' "Friendship is Giant Robots," filling in the "missing" scene in chapter five of that story.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-06-05 17:44:05 UTC

One Night of Bliss

Author's Note:

This is side story to 108Echoes' story Friendship is Giant Robots, written with his permission. Specifically, this takes place during chapter five, between "the same desperation" and "Twilight Sparkle woke slowly." If you want to know the proper emotional context for this scene, you'll have to read that story. If you're just in it for the sex, then read ahead.

Twilight leapt on Celestia in a sudden press of body and lips, bearing her to the ground. Celestia murmured something, some sort of objection, and tried to push her off, but Twilight clung to her fiercely, and Celestia, wracked as she was with fatigue, couldn't muster the strength to push her away.

And, if she were being completely honest with herself, Celestia didn't want to push her student away.

Twilight's slim, young body was dwarfed by Celestia's bulk; with their mouths locked together, Twilight's hips only came to Celestia's chest. And Twilight was, apparently without her own awareness, grinding her hips against Celestia in a most distracting fashion.

Celestia tried to maintain her composure, tried to uphold her iron-cold façade. But she hadn't taken a lover in... in a very long time, and she was so lonely, and the damp warmth on her chest was so damnably tempting. Twilight was insistent, and Celestia could feel her resolve slipping, could hear the whispered temptations from the back of her mind.

Would it be that bad to give in? She's certainly willing enough. 'Twould be a comfort to you both.

With another rough buck of her hips and a rush of heat and wetness, Twilight pulled away from Celestia's mouth and let out a high, ragged cry of half-fulfilled need. Celestia looked at her student flushed and panting above her, face tear-stained, eyes full of mixed desire and fear.

You would deny her now? You've let it fester too long for that. Telling yourself you'd deal with it later, you let cowardice overcome you—and to try to stop here would snap any bonds you two might share. 'Twould be a death sentence for her. For you too, at least eventually.

Celestia prided herself on her planning, on always having a way out and a way forward. Plots within plots, schemes within schemes, but they'd all come tumbling down. She'd spent the last five months trying to recover, trying to catch up with an enemy she hadn't expected, and in the hustle she'd left certain variables unchecked.

And now she was trapped. A sweet and tempting trap it was, but a trap nonetheless. A sacrifice. A violation.

She doesn't see it like that. Nor do you, not truly—if the thought were so vile, you would have taken greater pains to avoid this situation. For all your words on propriety, you are sorely tempted.

She had no other options but forward. Celestia lifted her head and kissed her student on the mouth, parting her lips to accept Twilight's eager tongue.

And then Twilight pulled away and began to kiss her way hesitantly down Celestia's neck. At the armor, she paused and looked shyly up at her teacher, not quite looking her in the eyes. Celestia nodded slightly, and Twilight unhooked the torc from around her neck and set it down by her tiara. Celestia stretched, reveling for a moment in the freedom, then gave a little gasp as Twilight continued her little kisses. She'd pause, at moments, to indulge in a little series of licks that could be mistaken for grooming, but her hooves always stayed in contact with Celestia's body, and she could feel her student's tension, like a wire stretched near to snapping.

As Twilight's kisses moved lower, inch by fearful inch, Celestia shut her eyes and clenched her jaw. Of course Twilight would want to demonstrate her love and devotion. No way to escape it, and so Celestia resolved to fake climax, in a last feeble attempt to minimize the abuse she was making of her authority.

And then Twilight reached her destination, and Celestia realized with a badly-restrained moan that she would not, in point of fact, need to fake anything. Her body shuddered as Twilight continued her ministrations. Celestia hadn't been touched in a very, very long time, not since—

That thought was cut mercifully short by another swipe of Twilight's tongue.

Celestia could hear Twilight murmuring, but she couldn't understand the words through the ringing in her ears. Still she knew what those words were: declarations of devotion and worship, and of love. Celestia wanted, needed to respond, but her tongue was thick and awkward in her mouth, choking any speech she could have made, and Twilight's own tongue, inexperienced yet boundlessly eager and worshipful, was lapping at her fervently. Celestia shook as she surrendered to the desperate desire flowing through her every vein and artery: she moaned, her body shuddering with release, until she finally sank back onto the cold wooden floor of Twilight's bedroom and lapsed into post-orgasmic lassitude.

Twilight looked up at her, finally meeting her gaze. Celestia saw in her eyes a roiling of emotion: devotion, infatuation, and fear. She feared that she had transgressed—as she had, of course, though her offer was nothing in comparison with Celestia's acceptance.

A voice arose from the back of Celestia's mind, a different one this time. This voice hissed accusations. You are filthy, it said, sick, wrong, vile to use her in such a way.

And she knew the voice was right, but she had had no choice. Better I sacrifice my principles, she thought, than sacrifice my student. I have taken enough from her. Let her take some comfort from me.

Celestia shifted, stood slowly, and Twilight crawled off of her, still looking up at her with an awe-filled gaze. Twilight opened her mouth to say something, but Celestia shook her head and gestured towards the bed. Twilight was stiff with nervousness, and Celestia gently nudged her student towards the bed, until her muscles unlocked and she could take the last few trembling steps on her own.

As Celestia shed the rest of her regalia, Twilight reached the bed and collapsed upon it. With a brush of magic, Celestia pulled the covers out from under her and rolled her onto her back. Twilight tried to cover herself.

"No, Princess, I'm—"

Celestia nuzzled against her. "You're what?"

"I'm... I'm okay, you don't have to..."

Celestia let out a throaty growl. "But I want to." If only to soothe my conscience.

Twilight shivered, but she parted her legs to expose herself to Celestia.

Celestia found herself licking her lips, though whether it was out of nervousness or anticipation she could not tell. Twilight was dripping wet and swollen—she'd been rubbing at herself with her hooves while she was pleasing Celestia. As Celestia leaned closer to her student, Twilight gave a little shudder and yelp. Even mere proximity was bringing her to the edge of climax.

Celestia hesitated no longer. She leaned forward and kissed Twilight gently between her legs.

With lips and hooves and horn, she brought her student to climax, over and over.

When she was done, when Twilight had been rendered not just oversensitive but nearly raw, only then did she stop. She kissed Twilight on the forehead—"I love you, Princess," Twilight murmured in her half-daze—and got out of the bed.

As quietly as she could, Celestia opened the balcony door and went outside. She told herself that she would return to the bed before Twilight woke, but she for the moment she stood on the balcony, breathing in the chill night air, and staring up at the endless night sky.

There's a purpose to this, she thought. Everything I do, I do for a purpose. I will see you defeated, Nightmare Moon. I will see Equestria restored.

She cast a brief glance back at Twilight's sleeping form. And I shall see my subjects happy again. Not fearful, not pained, not desperate—truly happy.

She deserves better than what few weak and poisoned joys I can offer to her. She deserves better than me.