The Garden and Her Gardener
The Garden and Her Gardener
The sun sparkled brightly over a picturesque garden. Flowers bloomed in intricate patterns that swirled and danced along the simple stone paths that wandered between them. Gorgeous trees bursting with fragrant blossoms twined their branches together above the paths, creating tunnels of fragrance, while other areas opened wide to embrace the sky above. If one knew where to go one would find secret alcoves full of exotic plants seen almost no where else; if one allowed themselves to get lost they might find hidden gardens where plants long thought lost to time flourished amongst each other.
In one such hidden world, surrounded by hedges split by a simple archway, sat two ponies. One, a large white alicorn, sat at the edge of a bubbling fountain with a cup of tea a hoof’s length away. Her smaller, purple counterpart sat under a tree full of vivid pink pink blossoms with a similar cup of tea forgotten nearby. The larger of the two ponies flexed her wings lightly and ruffled her feathers as if she was trying to brush the tension from the air around her. The other one tried distracting herself with the grass at her hooves. She tugged at the larger stalks, breaking them into smaller stalks, trying to even out the grass. This proved, however, to be a futile distraction, and she found her eyes wandering to the other pony occasionally. The mare by the fountain pretended not to notice the glances but each one sent a shiver down her spine. With a shuddering breath she gathered her courage and spoke.
“This garden, it’s one of my favorites.” The mare looked around the garden she shared with her companion before turning back to the fountain. She watched the crystalline water cascade from a spout down into a series of basins before spilling into the largest one at the bottom. “I think it might be the most beautiful.”
The mare under the tree looked around thoughtfully. Gently she closed her eyes and took a deep breath in through her nose, her eyelids fluttering as the smells filled her. “I always loved the smell here, Princess. Lots of memories in them.”
Celestia sighed heavily, releasing the nerves that had built up before she spoke again. “I remember when this one was planted. The gardener had so much to be proud of.” A gentle smile played at her lips as the face of the ancient gardener who started this garden when Canterlot was first built floated to the surface of her mind. “Do you think the gardener ever misses it, Twilight?”
Celestia's cool voice slid through the air with motherly calm. Twilight shuddered at the sound of that voice speaking her name again, so many memories in such a simple word. She sipped her tea, calming her nerves and allowing herself to respond. “I can’t imagine how someone could abandon something so beautiful.”
“Oh. I guess you're right.” Celestia let the silence fall again and awkwardness filled the space were the words had been. She watched the mare out of the corner of her eye with uncertainty. Such a large rift had formed between them over the years and she had no idea how she would react. Had she been right to call her? Perhaps it was too soon.
A gentle wind danced into the nook and a few petals fell from the tree fell into Twilight's mane.“Do you think the garden misses the gardener?” Twilight shook the petal from her mane and watched it dance across the clearing, pirouetting back and forth as it crossed the gap between her and Celestia. Twilight’s eyes followed the movement languidly, catching glimpse of a gorgeous white background the made the petal ever more vibrant, before suddenly she found herself looking her old teacher in the eyes and turned away.
“Of course the garden would miss its gardener.” Celestia caught the petal on her hoof. “But like this petal, it has trouble staying in one place. Pieces of the garden will follow her on the wind; the smells, the sounds. Small pieces will travel with her wherever she goes.” She blew on the vivid pink blossom and watched it jump into the sky and vanish. “Never letting her forget what she forsook.”
Twilight turned back to Celestia then looked up into the tree and all the blossoms. The vivid blossoms swayed, but no more fell. Twilight lowered her gaze and looked at the vibrant purple flowers surrounding the bases of the tree. “But that only tells the gardener a small part of how her creation is doing. There is so much more to be seen than just the pieces that are left behind, and not everything gets carried in the wind.” Twilight caressed one of the flowers, cupping it in the crook of her fetlock. “Sometimes they never send out letters, sometimes they don’t want to talk.” Sadness and pain crossed her face as held the flower just a little tighter for a moment as she looked up at Celestia.
Celestia looked over and locked eyes with Twilight. Her thoughts froze for a moment as, suddenly, she saw Luna’s face before her. The sorrow and pain and the expression it had painted on her sister’s face, she had never been able to forget it. That same expression—emblazoned like a fiery brand in her mind—confronted her once more, chillingly upon Twilight Sparkle's young face. Her body went numb as she inhaled sharply, and just as suddenly as it had appeared, it vanished. Twilight sat before her again, gently cupping the same flower, her expression faraway and sorrowful, but still just her own.
Twilight saw the tears flowing again, each drop more precious and painful than the last. Like strands of diamonds glittering in the sun they fell to the dirt below and crumbled. How she hated seeing those tears, never would she have believed any pony could pull tears from Celestia, and to know she could, made seeing them that much harder. Twilight looked away quickly to hide her face, fixing her gaze on the flower she held. “And what of seeing, with her own eyes, what has happened to the garden she once cherished so dearly?” Twilight pulled the flower from the ground with small snap that seemed to echo around them. “If she never comes to see the garden, and relies on what little is sent, will she ever realize what has been destroyed?”
The echo faded with Twilight's words and silence settled over the garden like a spell. Serene and calm, the silence was welcomed and comfortable to the two mares. As the silence stretched on Celestia began to fidget, she dipped a hoof into the water and watched the ripples stretch out to the edges of pool. “The gardener, she must trust that she will receive a message if something goes wrong.” Celestia watched as a petal gently landed in the water, the ripples radiating out towards the edges of the fountain. “Messages like this petal, sometimes all you have is the ripples and the reflection to tell you what has happened.”
“Doesn’t seem like much,” Twilight smirked, “the ripples barely made it to the shore.”
“You’re right, it’s not much.” Celestia sighed heavily. “But sometimes it’s all you get.”
“A good gardener would visit her garden rather than just try and understand it through things the wind has carried her way. She wouldn’t just look at the ripples in a pond. A good gardener would see the petal and remember her garden and visit it to check on how it’s doing.” Twilight shifted before she stood up and walked around the tree slowly, tracing the curves and ridges in the bark with the tip of her wing. “But then maybe the gardener is satisfied with the ripples in pond, or is she afraid to know how her work has changed.” She paused and stared at a hole in the tree. “Or maybe the damage has begun to heal and the garden is afraid to tell her gardener something happened.”
Celestia swirled her hoof in the water, watching with a sad expression as the water distorted the images reflected in it. “That is a legitimate fear though, isn’t it. She left garden to itself so it could grow and thrive and become something greater than she envisioned.” Celestia looked up at the hedge surrounding the little world she was in. “Like those gorgeous vines playing through the hedges. Even if they were planted there, nothing compares to the beauty they achieved naturally, without the guidance of the gardener.” Celestia pulled her hoof from the water. “The vines helped support the hedge and the hedge supported the vines, like friends leaning on each other for strength. The gardener wasn’t needed.”
“But what if the vines had strangled the hedges? If the gardener was absent then she had no way of protecting that piece of the garden.” Twilight took a step forward and paused. “But maybe she thought it would be better without that part; letting it die might not have been the plan, but she thinks it was better.”
Celestia tore her gaze away from the hedge and looked at Twilight. “She never would have wanted that, but maybe what's left behind allows the vines to grow stronger. The loss of one part becomes the strength of another.” Celestia fidgeted, searching for a way to refute Twilight's argument. She knew Twilight was just twisting what she meant to rile her, and even though it hurt it wasn’t unwarranted. “New things are allowed in to replace the lost part, not everything that dies causes irreparable harm.”
Twilight paused, her nostrils opened as she breathed in and closed her eyes, letting the smells of the garden calm her. “Of course.” Twilight walked over to the archway and traced her hoof along a vine the twined its way along the iron. “There is so much more just beyond this one garden and opening it up to new things could very well make it more beautiful than ever. Sadly, however, it wouldn’t be her garden anymore if she did that, would it?”
Celestia stepped down from the edge of the fountain and took a few steps towards Twilight and paused. She was torn, should she follow, had she earned the right to chase Twilight. “That doesn’t mean the gardener would be any less proud of the garden. Allowing new things in to make it more than she envisioned. It’s scary, but the outcome is more than worth it.”
Twilight stepped through archway and approached a lilac bush. “So sacrificing something for something else is fine then. Allowing something to die just to see something new, it’s completely acceptable?” Twilight grabbed a branch full of flowers, tearing it free she threw it behind her to the garden she had just left. “That won’t kill the bush. It still hurts, but it’s okay because now that branch has the chance to grow into something new in another garden.”
Celestia flinched away, staring at the flowers that had scattered around her hooves like blood. She prodded a few of the tiny petals and shook them off her hoof immediately. “That’s not...the gardener doesn’t want to sacrifice anything. If it could be avoided then it should be, but sometimes...” Celestia trailed off and watched as Twilight disappear around a corner.
Around the corner Twilight watched a family of birds in a tree, they tweeted and chirped happily to each other like they didn’t have a care in the world. One of the babies chirped a little louder, so the mother pulled it close and wrapped a wing over the baby. Twilight looked over her shoulder so Celestia could hear her. “What of the others in the garden, those who live there? The ones who rely on the harmony of the garden, if one part dies, then their world is thrown into chaos.”
Celestia poked her head around the corner and looked up at the birds. She saw the mother holding the chick tightly and remembered how she had held Twilight when she had first come to live and study in the castle. A sense of sad nostalgia for things lost filled her. “Change is inevitable, it can’t be avoided. It’s not something to be feared, though. It might hurt, but in the end, it helps everything grow.”
“True.” Twilight sat down, her eyes still on the birds. Memories of a small cottage outside Ponyville danced through her mind, she could almost smell the soothing tea her friend used to serve her so long ago. “That still doesn’t make it any easier. Change is hard, and when there is nothing left behind to support the new, then the change just causes pain. A good gardener would know when to support a plant that loses its support because something else in the garden died.”
“Maybe she would, but maybe she doesn’t know how.” Celestia bit her lips and her wings ruffled. Every fiber of her being wanted to reach out and comfort the small mare in front her. She wanted to wrap her wings around her and let her know everything would be fine again but she wasn’t even sure she could believe it herself. “Maybe she doesn’t know quite how to support the plant without hurting it.”
Twilight frowned and turned away from the birds and proceeded along the stone path, pausing to look at flowers and statues as she walked. “Even if the plant is hurt with the proper support it can recover faster.” Twilight slowed a little and shook her head, trying to stop the tears she felt building. “Even if the support isn’t perfect, it oftens helps more than it hurts. All I ever wanted was to be able to lean on-” Twilight stopped, her sentence cutting off with her hoofbeats. She looked down at a barren patch of dirt surrounded by perfectly smooth and rounded stones in varying hues of brown.
Celestia moved to the other side of the dirt and looked worryingly over at Twilight. “But as the creator the fear, of causing more damage than can be fixed is terrifying.”
Twilight scooped up some dirt with her hoof gently, "But that's part of creating a garden," Twilight tilted her hoof and watched as the moist dirt slipped past the tiny seed resting in her hoof. As the last of the dirt fell away she gently lifted the fragile seed and looked at it. Slim and frail it floated in her purple aura until the aura vanished and the wind took the seed away, like a fleeting dream the seed was gone before she realized she couldn't see it anymore. “Sometimes you have to take a risk, sometimes you have to reach out to it even though you're afraid or you might lose something before it ever has a chance to bloom.”
For a moment Celestia watched as the seed spun in the purple aura, fixated on how small and fragile it seemed, held in the powerful magical aura. “Can the gardener truly give that much attention to a single student? Is it not wrong to neglect her other gardens in favor of her favorite?”
Twilight sighed heavily, her hoof dropping to the ground heavily. “Should that really be a factor though? Her favorite garden is special.” Twilight stomped her hoof and kicked a stone out of place only to place it back immediately. “Is abandoning it her way of showing her favorite garden respect?” Twilight started to turn away to leave, but paused and sat down with her back turned to Celestia. “And why should the gardener care? She is not the only gardener who can care for the gardens. Her favorite garden is special. She put the most effort into it because it’s her favorite. There are other gardeners to tend the other gardens while she spends time with her favorite.”
Celestia reached out towards Twilight, knowing she had pressed but was desperate to reach her. Her hoof curled back and she brought it to her chest, dropping her head and shoulders in defeat. “Maybe the gardener is making excuses because she is afraid of what the garden has become while she neglected it. What if the she is afraid that her favorite garden can’t forgive her for leaving?” Celestia’s hoof fell gently to the ground, dragging her wings with it. “What if she no longer feels worthy of her favorite garden?”
“Worthy? It’s the garden she worked the hardest on. The garden she took the most pride in. Even if it doesn’t understand completely, it can forgive her. The garden would be happy just to see her again, it doesn’t care about the past, only that you’re back.” Twilight turned back to her goddess and took a step forward.
Celestia mimicked Twilight and hesitated. “So the gardener never needed to seek forgiveness?” Twilight shook her head and Celestia took another tentative step. “All that’s wanted is for her to return, to be seen again with her?” Another nod and another step. “That’s all?”
Twilight nodded and closed the distance between them, tears streaming down her cheeks as her throat bobbed in a desperate attempt to loosen the knot that had formed. “That is all that was ever wanted.” Twilight laid her head over Celestia’s withers, pulling herself up against Celestia and burying her face in Celestia’s shoulder. “I was so lonely. I missed seeing you. I missed lounging beside you while I read a book under your sun. I missed drinking tea with you and discussing Ponyville and what I was doing. I missed you so much.”
Celestia’s entire body shuddered as Twilight laid her head over her withers. A strong sob lodged in her throat and she swallowed heavily. “Are..are...did you really?” Twilight wrapped her wings around Celestia, holding her tight. Twilight's smell encompassed Celestia and she felt the tears begin the journey down her cheeks “Never again, never again...” She repeated it several times, each time hugging Twilight tighter and the tears flowing stronger. “I won’t leave you ever again.”
Twilight burrowed deeper into the pristine fur, sniffling in happiness. “Promise me. Swear to me I won’t be alone again. Swear to me you won’t leave again.”
Celestia lowered her head and kissed Twilight on the forehead. The evening sun seemed to swell in response and Celestia looked up to see the sunset blossom across the horizon, painting the clouds with dazzling twilight hues. “I swear it, Twilight,” she said. Then she watched the stars of the night twinkle to life, for what felt like the very first time.
