When teatime and naptime overlap...
With an almost graceful flap of her wings, Twilight Sparkle touched down upon the soft grass of the Royal Gardens. There was an almost fearful expression upon her face as she looked about, and had anypony observed it, it might have appeared as though she feared for her own safety. Ears perked, she looked ahead, then to her left, then off to her right, then whirling around, she checked behind her.
The coast seemed clear, but she did not relax her guard, because this was a dangerous place, a terrifying place fraught with peril. In the distance, she heard the honk of a swan and very nearly jumped out her lavender hide. Now looking sheepish and afraid, Twilight let out a snort of self-disappointment while trying to regain her lost composure.
She had been summoned here by Princess Celestia and Twilight suspected that it had something to do with the friendship report she had sent after the Appleloosa Friendship Festival. Friendship reports were no longer required, but she had felt the need to write one anyway. It was comforting, it allowed for some reflection, and while writing, Twilight had realised just how much she had grown.
Still checking for danger, Twilight trotted off for where she needed to be, for she was expected at the Hibiscus Gazebo that overlooked the swan pond. She was to be there no later then three of the clock for light afternoon tea. The invitation had been signed by Celestia herself, and not by an assistant.
Coming to the end of a hedgerow, Twilight looked left, then right, then all around her. One could never be too safe when coming here. She spotted a guard, whom she was quite glad to see, and asked, “Is it safe? Is it clear?”
Lifting his head, the guard replied, “The Royal Brood is experiencing naptime.”
“Whew!” Twilight let out her exclamation with a huff of relief and her whole body sagged as she relaxed.
“Princess Celestia is expecting you and you should hurry,” the guard suggested.
“Right.” Twilight stood straight once more, and this time, looking far more confident, she trotted off to be with Princess Celestia. “Thanks!”
“Don’t mention it.” As Twilight departed, the guard saluted with his wing.
When approaching, Twilight came to realise that this was a private meeting. Celestia was alone at the table, waiting, sitting on a bright orange square cushion with sunny yellow tassels, one at each corner. A closer inspection revealed that Celestia was not wearing her crown, her regalia, or her shoes. Her former mentor was… naked for lack of a more appropriate term.
Tilting her head, Twilight stood there, puzzled.
Then, much to Twilight’s dismay, Celestia began chortling, and Twilight realised that she must have looked a little silly, standing there while looking confused. She felt her cheeks grow warm and her dock tensed when she realised how much she still worried about what her former mentor thought of her.
“Greetings, Twilight.”
“Um, hi.” What sort of greeting was that? she thought to herself as her cheeks grew even warmer. What sort of a dork am I?
“Come sit with me, my former student,” Celestia said as she gestured to an inviting, comfortable looking cushion laying on the grass. “I received your most recent friendship report… about your experience with the quesadillas.” A wry smile appeared on Celestia’s muzzle, and one eyebrow lifted into a graceful, regal arch.
A monarch’s measure could be discovered in the raising of their eyebrows.
Still feeling sheepish, and not knowing why, Twilight licked her lips and glanced over the Hibiscus Gazebo. The roof was stained glass, and the panel facing her showed a stylised image of a white alicorn pulling the sun as well as a blue alicorn pulling the moon, and both were flying in a circle around a black and silver pegasus. Her mouth went dry and she remembered when she and Flurry Heart had worked together to create that very panel of stained glass.
The Royal Gardens smelled lovely, and the scent of tea filled Twilight’s nose. She looked at the table for a moment, still feeling awkward, and then she went over to sit down. When sitting, she bumped up against the table and caused everything to rattle. A hiss of embarrassment shot out from her lips and lifting her head, she looked Celestia in the eye.
She saw amusement and felt awkward.
“My student, all grown up… and now, dating from what I understand.”
A searing hot prickle crept up Twilight’s neck and she felt her back muscles go tense. Somehow, she managed to keep looking Celestia in the eye, but it was very, very difficult. Sweat trickled down from behind her ear and Twilight fidgeted on her cushion, unable to find a comfortable way to sit, no matter what, her tail seemed to be in the way.
“Twilight, do relax,” Celestia said, her voice calm and soothing. “I called you here so that we might have a talk. Our relationship needs to change, Twilight. I fear that our previous relationship no longer suits us.”
“It doesn’t?” Twilight squeaked, and then she covered her mouth with one hoof.
“No, it doesn’t.” Celestia leaned forwards and began pouring Twilight’s tea. “Twilight, you have grown so much in some ways, but so little in others. It pleases me to see you take an interest in romance. With this most recent development, I fear our relationship boundaries must change.”
More sweat poured down from behind Twilight’s ears and it soaked into the fine hairs of her neck. One ear twitched as Celestia stirred her tea with a delicate silver spoon. All of Twilight’s stomach muscles were rigid, tight to the point of being painful. Worst of all, she didn’t understand why she was even having this reaction.
“Twilight Sparkle, do you know the meaning of the word ‘compeer’ and what it means?”
Focusing on the question, Twilight gave it some thought. In doing so, some of her anxiety eased. She was unfamiliar with the word, but it sounded a bit like compare, or peer. The word was unknown to her, and she looked Celestia right in the eye when she replied, “No, I’ve never heard of it before.”
“It is a very old word,” Celestia began, and she drew in a deep breath. “It means equal rank. Equal status. It means a companionhood based upon equality or an association based upon egalitarian principles.” Blinking once, Celestia took another deep breath, and with her eyes narrowing, she leaned her head forward over the table. “Twilight Sparkle, you are my compeer.”
Dumbfounded, Twilight sat on her cushion, attempting to take in what her former teacher had just said. She sat there, blinking at the white alicorn that was sitting across from her, not knowing how to respond, nor did she even begin to comprehend what had just been said, due to her brain going blank.
“You have grown and reached a place of maturity where I can finally say that to you, as I have longed to do for quite some time. You have grown so much, Twilight Sparkle. First, you learned to look after the needs of your friends. Then, with time and much learning, you learned to look after the needs of your subjects. With more time and learning, you’ve learned to look after the needs of your demesne, and on your own, you broadened your own horizons to the point where you look after the needs of your nation.”
Flummoxed, Twilight hiccuped and almost fell over.
“Now comes the most difficult bit of learning so far… and something that I myself am struggling with… something we share in common. Learning how to look after ourselves after so thoroughly looking after the needs of others and the nation that we both rule.” Celestia lifted up her teacup, inhaled the fragrant steam, and smiled at Twilight. “In looking after ourselves, we are both equally inept.”
This was a good time to respond, Twilight felt, and save herself from foalish follies. She nodded, hiccuped again, and managed to say, “Yes! Yes we are!” Head bobbing up and down with enthusiasm, Twilight let out a squeak when she realised just what it was exactly that she had said.
Even worse, she knew that it was true. This knowledge caused her barrel to tighten and she let out squeaky whinny of panic, feeling as though her soul had just been stripped bare. All of a sudden, she was eight years old again, having tea with her teacher, Princess Celestia, and she was getting her mind blown. Just as she had done when she was eight, she grabbed a cookie from the tray and crammed the entire thing into her mouth.
Chewing the whole cookie gave her an excuse to be quiet and reflect for a time, without the onus of having to reply to a question, because one shouldn’t talk with their mouth full. During her youth, she had considered scarfing down a cookie to buy time an act of utter genius, but now, as a full grown adult, she was having some second thoughts. She watched Celestia sip some tea and found that her own mouth was quite dry at the moment.
“I am old, set in my ways, and slow to change them, Twilight Sparkle.” Celestia pulled her teacup away from her muzzle and with a merry twinkle in her eye, she said, “I propose that we work together on this issue. As equals. We should talk, as equals, able to say anything that is on our minds, we should be open with one another, we should be able to share our secrets, our thoughts, and we should be able to do so without fear… as equals.”
Biting into a tough piece of crystalised ginger, Twilight stared at Celestia with wide, almost unblinking eyes while she gnawed the rubbery treat between her molars. With about ninety-nine percent certainty, Twilight reasoned that this was not a joke. Oh, Celestia was being playful, but she was at her most playful when she was nervous or scared. Twilight had known the wily white alicorn long enough to be aware of some of her quirks.
Celestia too, picked up a cookie and nibbled on the edge. She also poured Twilight a much needed glass of milk, an action she had done far too many times to keep track of. This scene had played itself out so many times over the years that everything now felt like reflex. Twilight found all of the old familiar actions comforting.
“The day that Cadance became engaged, she and I had a similar conversation.”
“They never even told me about the engagement!” Twilight cried, spewing crumbs everywhere. She snatched up her glass of milk in her fetlock, too irked for even simple magic, and she took a long drink. Now, with a milk mustache, Twilight sat there, stewing over that particular part of an uncomfortable past.
“Mistakes were made,” Celestia said.
“Yes they were,” Twilight agreed, and she found that it felt just as good to say it as it was to hear it from Celestia’s lips. She licked the milk from her lips and discovered that, much to her own surprise, she felt better about it now, though she could not say how or why.
“It caused me so much fear and doubt.” Celestia’s voice was low and somewhat halting. “When Mister Mariner brought down our country, I suffered a bit of a breakdown and a loss of my self confidence knowing that you were right once again.”
“I… I don’t know what to say,” Twilight said as a strange new pain blossomed in her barrel. It was an awful pain, new, unknown, and unwelcome. “I’m not right all of the time… I make mistakes too… and when I do, you’ve always been there to pick me up and get me on my hooves again. There’s been so many times that you’ve been right… and you could have lectured me… you could have gloated… you could have chewed me out and talked about how your thousands of years of experience was worth more than my mere decades of life.”
“We both make mistakes.” Celestia’s orange tongue flicked over her lips to lick away a few crumbs that were brave enough to linger. “I’ve come to respect your intuition, your hunches, and your guesses, even if it unnerves me to act upon them and throw caution to the wind.”
“And I’ve come to respect your methodical approach, seeking facts, laying low, and gathering every shred of knowledge available before engaging the enemy and revealing that I am more than ready to deal with them. Some of my most satisfying victories have come by following your example.” It felt good to say these words, and some of the strange pain in Twilight’s barrel abated a bit.
“We have changed,” both alicorns said together while they looked into each other’s eyes.
A low chuckle came from Celestia, but Twilight lapsed into silence as she held her milk. They had changed, and Twilight hadn’t realised it. How long ago had this change settled in? How long ago had Twilight’s hidden resentments faded away, only to be replaced with something else? Twilight came to a surprising realisation that she hadn’t processed or evaluated her relationship with Princess Celestia for quite some time, trying to determine if she was living up to her former mentor’s standards.
No, Twilight realised, at some point, without her realising it, they had become equals.
Compeers.
Hunching over, she finished off her milk, set down her glass, and then lifted her teacup with her telekinesis. She looked into Celestia’s eyes, the very windows to her teacher’s soul. In the pond, a swan let out a trumpeting cry and then began to swim after his mate. Turning her head, Twilight watched them for a time, marvelling at their beauty and grace.
For reasons unknown, she thought of Seville.
“Ah, we have company,” Celestia murmured.
Turning her head a little more, Twilight saw a guard approaching, and walking beside him was Corbie. Twilight felt her heart skip a beat because little Corbie looked quite upset. It was clear that she had been crying, and this knowledge made Twilight’s heart ache in a way she was unaccustomed to.
The guard came to a halt some distance away, but little Corbie kept going, flapping her wings as she hurried over the grass. Twilight stared at the foal, feeling a hollow ache. Corbie was like her father, charcoal blackish-grey, somewhat dappled, but she lacked his silver highlights, though she had his silver mane and tail. She had her mother’s soft pinkish white highlighting her wings.
The filly stumbled and tumbled over into the grass, knocking her thick glasses askew. Lower lip now protruding, she got up, almost bawling, and resumed running for the table. Much to Twilight’s surprise, Cobie didn’t run to her mother, and Twilight had an almost sobbing filly hanging from her neck.
All these years as a teacher and she still had trouble in times like these. She settled her weight on the cushion, balanced on her haunches, and wrapped her forelegs around Corbie, who shook with raw, unbridled emotion. With her wing, Twilight brushed some stray bits of grass out of the filly’s mane and then bounced her a bit to try and cheer her up.
“What happened?” Celestia asked, her voice firm and maternal.
“NUANCE!” Corbie spat out, and then she exploded with tears.
Twilight heard a sigh from across the table. Nuance. Twilight wasn’t fond of him either, though she would never admit it. He was mean, he was bossy, he was aggressive, and he had a raging sense of entitlement. Even worse, Nuance hated her, and ambushed her at every opportunity he found, determined to prove once and for all that he was a worthy wizard.
The problem, in the most simple of terms, was that Nuance was terrible at magic.
With her foreleg, Twilight rubbed Corbie’s neck and looked over at Celestia, waiting for instruction, but none seemed forthcoming. She was on her own, it appeared. Across the table, Celestia looked a bit upset, and more than a little frustrated. Twilight imagined that it was like being frustrated with a student as a teacher, but worse.
“You know,” Celestia whispered, “I might just have to send Nuance off to your school. Your magical kindergarten has proven quite successful over the years.”
Twilight didn’t know how to tell Celestia that she didn’t want and wouldn’t accept Nuance.
“Corbie, sweetie, where is Nuance now?”
“In the corner!” Corbie sobbed.
“Well, that’s a good start.” Celestia let out a frustrated snort. “I suppose he woke Luna.”
“Yes!” A ribbon of snot dribbled from Corbie’s nose and with a sniffle-snort, she sucked it back in as tears poured down her cheeks. “He called me Fat Stupid Four-Eyes again!”
Twilight ground her teeth together and gave the filly a squeeze. It was difficult for Corbie to be her father’s daughter and Twilight knew all about the little pegasus filly’s insecurities. She was a little… pear shaped and she wore glasses. She worried all the time if she was pretty and spent a lot of time upset that everypony stared at her father, and not her.
“And then what happened?” Celestia sighed the words and all traces of her good cheer were now gone, vanished.
The filly did not reply right away, fearing her mother’s anger. Sniffling, she shuddered in Twilight’s embrace, and after a few seconds she replied, “Radiance bloodied his nose.” After speaking, she turned away from her mother and closed her eyes.
Rolling her eyes, Celestia let heave a sigh so powerful that Twilight was dead-certain that the sun had just moved a tick in the sky. Twilight cringed. The two brothers really, really hated one another. Nuance was hostile, arrogant, and thoroughly convinced of his own superiourity because he was a unicorn. Radiance on the other hoof, was quiet, soft spoken, loved his sister, and strong. He was also smarter than Nuance and reveled in every opportunity presented to prove it.
“Twilight Sparkle, can I ask you a favour?”
Fearful, Twilight worried about how to tell Celestia no, that she would not take Nuance and board him in her school. Everything had been going so well, this new relationship between them as equals. Panic tightened Twilight’s throat, and she nodded.
“Twilight, can you take Corbie home with you for a few days?” Celestia asked.
“Why?” Twilight blurted out, baffled by the question.
“Because, I am about to lay the law down upon her brothers, and she is far too tender hearted to deal with seeing them get punished.” As Celestia spoke, Corbie’s sobs renewed themselves. “The poor dear loves Nuance, awful as he is, and she doesn’t like it when he gets what is coming to him.”
Blinking, Twilight tried to parse everything that had just been said. She also deduced that some real punishment was about to happen, not just being stood in the corner. Tilting her head, she looked down at Corbie, and found the filly looking up at her, her rose-pink eyes bloodshot from crying. All of this left Twilight quite confused.
“Sure,” Twilight said to Celestia, surprised by her own answer that came out of her mouth.
“I’ll have her bag packed for you.” Celestia put a few cookies on a plate and poured another glass of milk. She then placed both the plate and the glass in front of Twilight for Corbie. “She has to wear her dental retainer at night when she sleeps. She’ll probably cry and try to bargain to get out of it, but her underbite is pretty severe and needs correction. Be firm, Twilight.”
She nodded, but didn’t know what to say.
“She’s scared of the dark—”
“No I’m not!” Corbie shrieked at her mother.
“—and she needs a night light.”
“No I don’t.” Corbie’s lower lip now protruded quite a bit, and was exaggerated by her underbite.
“I’ll send Seville to help,” Celestia offered, and a mischievous twinkle returned to her eye. “She adores Seville and will happily spend all day attached to his leg.”
To this, Corbie had nothing to say, but her cheeks bulged as she gave her mother a huffy, puffy stare through her tear-smudged glasses.
Twilight felt her cheeks ignite and she knew exactly what sort of dastardly tactics Celestia was resorting to. The heat from her cheeks spread upwards, rising up into her ears, and she could hear the slobbery sound of Corbie slurping on her own grass-stained hoof. Twilight had no doubt that her mother and father would show up at some point, and would compliment her and flatter her… and… ugh!
Though equals, Celestia was far better at playing the game of Alicorn Princess.
Not one opportunity wasted. Somehow, Celestia had wrangled this situation to help out with Twilight’s own self-improvement, and her romantic aspirations as well. Squeezing Corbie yet again, Twilight found that she couldn’t be mad, and she knew that once she got over her initial panic, she would enjoy this.
“Celestia, can I ask you an equinal question?”
“Sure, Twilight.” Celestia’s ears leaned forwards, angling out over her face, eager for Twilight's question.
“You were so eager to have an army of foals. What happened?” Twilight asked, and then after a hesitant moment, she added, “Did things just not turn out as you expected? I’m only asking, because I don’t know what to expect myself, and, um, well, one day, perhaps someday soon, I uh, might, um, well, you know… try my hoof at this.”
“A moment of realisation,” Celestia replied as she smiled at Twilight and Corbie. “I could have had myself an army of foals by now… and I’ve been tempted, but I wanted to be more involved in the lives of the foals I have, and I want Gosling to be able to do the same. It just felt right to stop at three… for now.”
“Oh.” Twilight didn’t know how else to respond. For some reason, she had believed that Nuance’s troublesome nature had changed things, and Twilight didn’t quite know how to deal with the idea that if she became a mother, her foals might not quite turn out as she wanted them. In the back of her mind, Twilight suspected that it was selfish self-interest at work. She wanted introverted, nerdy bookworms like herself, because that would make it easier.
“I think Luna approaches the point where she wants to try—”
“But then Nuance acts like a jerk and scares her away from mommy-wants!”
Celestia’s face became a stone mask and her eyes went utterly blank. “Yes. Little Nuance, who was Luna’s favourite when he was born, scares Luna away from mommy-wants. He has gone from being her favourite to being the bane of her existence.”
In a rare moment, Twilight witnessed a crack in Celestia’s mask when the corner of her eye began twitching. She didn’t know if Celestia wanted to laugh or cry, that was unknown, but she was certainly having a strong reaction, because she failed to hide it. Averting her eyes, Twilight didn’t feel right intruding on something so private, so visceral.
“Little Nuance is great at scaring mares away from mommy-wants.” The corner of Celestia’s eye continued to twitch a bit, and her nostrils flared. “I’ve found that if I make my students foalsit him as project, they stop snogging for days at a time and inappropriate contact is greatly reduced. Little colts and little fillies no longer go sneaking into each other’s rooms, trying to get past the wards, and getting into trouble when they get caught.”
Lips pressing together, Twilight considered this tactic, and thought of Sumac and Pebble for some reason. In her forelegs, Corbie squirmed and then pulled a cookie off of the plate. Twilight heard her eating, and the little filly had better than average manners for a foal her age. She wondered, were the students in her school snogging? Was she ignoring it, pretending it didn’t exist, because she was uncomfortable with it?
“So… Twilight Sparkle… Seville Orange and Pinkie Pie… do you want to talk about it? I must confess, I am baffled by your interest in Pinkie Pie, if you don’t mind me being honest.”
She felt her cheeks grow warm again and tighten as a smile spread over her face. Twilight looked Celestia in the eye, considering her question, and realising that it might be nice to talk about this… as equals. She might even learn something… not from her former teacher, but from the mare that was her friend… her confidant… her compeer.
Taking a deep breath, Twilight got ready to tell Celestia all about it…
Author's Note
I know a lot of folk have been waiting for this one.
