Grab paper. Sign paper. Toss paper into 'Done' box. Grab more paper.
Celestia did not enjoy this part of her job, though she knew it was a necessary task. A long, tedious, mind-numbing task. It was not normally such a large amount, but she had spent the last few days playing ambassador to the griffons. As a result, the once-manageable stack of papers had turned into a veritable mountain. As much as she loved her little ponies, sometimes she just wanted to-
fwoosh
A thick scroll materialized above Celestia, bumping the top of her royal noggin as it fell. Startled, she dropped her quill, ruining the document she had worked so hard to sign.
"Now that wasn't very nice," Celestia scolded the aggressive parcel. "I don't have time for you, scroll. Go away, shoo." She halfheartedly waved a hoof at it, hoping the scroll would leave on its own so she could pretend she never saw it. She was not in the best of moods at the moment, and was more than willing to ignore anything that did not involve the fate of the world.
At the scroll's refusal to budge, Celestia begrudgingly gave in and picked it up, giving a cursory glance to the the familiar wax seal of Princess Twilight Sparkle. She was about to toss the scroll away when her overworked brain finally registered the sender's identity. Celestia instantly felt her mood lighten, her scowl melting away to be replaced with a tender smile.
She loved reading Twilight's letters more than anything else. Each one was part of an intimate conversation, privy only to the two of them. And perhaps Spike. They provided her a brief respite from the storm of Canterlot politics and foreign trade disputes. But above all, they made her feel special—like she was more than just a princess, more than just a glorified light switch that signed papers all day.
Gone were the days of friendship reports and academic papers. Nowadays, they simply talked. Not mentor to student, not princess to princess. Just Twilight and Celestia—two mares chatting about cake and books and tea and occasionally delving into nonsensical what-ifs. Like, 'what if carrots grew upside down?' Or 'what if everyone sees colors differently?'
What if they find out?
Twilight has written it a thousand times in a thousand different ways, yet Celestia could never give an answer that would ease those fears. The opinions of the public were a constant plague on Twilight's mind, and that is something that would likely never change, no matter how many centuries pass. She has always put the the well-being of her subjects before her own happiness. It is one of the countless things Celestia loves about her, despite how difficult it makes things for the both of them.
Celestia has long since learned that her little ponies will never be completely satisfied with anything. The most she can do is minimize their problems and warm their homes. Hopefully, Twilight will understand that one day. And when that day comes, maybe she will no longer wish to hide their love from the world. Maybe Celestia will one day be able to take her lover out to dinner, hold hooves at plays, kiss her gently on the lips in full view of the prudish nobility. Maybe one day.
But not now, not anytime soon; Twilight was not ready. Openly announcing their love now would only multiply the stress Twilight had to deal with. So many things had changed for the younger mare in such a short period. She was ripped away from any chance at having a somewhat normal life. With Twilight having no one else to turn to, Celestia had stepped in, once more taking on the role of protector and comforter. From there, it had been far, far too easy to fall in love with her former pupil.
She did not intend to; it had been an accident—the first time was, at least. They had both moved in blindly for a nuzzle, and when their lips touched, neither of them pulled away immediately. Luna was witness to the entire thing, and she made her amusement very clear before Twilight returned home. The dreams she kept sending only confused Celestia more. She actually enjoyed them.
Her next meeting with Twilight was awkward, to say the least. Celestia was flustered the entire time, her mind continually drifting back to the taste of her lips, to the confused stare, to the cursed dreams. Once official matters had finally concluded, Twilight stood up to say goodbye. However, when Celestia stepped forward for a hug, Twilight closed her eyes and slightly raised her chin. Her face was flushed a dark purple and her legs were shaking, but the message was clear.
Luna was not there to laugh this time, so they felt no need to stop.
The discussion the following morning was terse. Twilight wanted to rush home and think up an excuse for staying the night. Celestia did not stop her, though she did not fully understand. She wanted to know why Twilight was trying to cover them up. She posed that very question in a letter shortly after breakfast. The response was slow, but when it came, Celestia felt a piece of her heart break.
Twilight was ashamed. She was still unsettled by the idea of being immortal, still terrified of her power, still obliviously insecure about her flawless appearance. She did not think she was worthy of being loved.
Celestia desperately wanted to rush to Ponyville and break down the castle door, to envelope Twilight in her wings and hold her close, whispering in her ear the infinite number of reasons she was perfect. She wanted to hug her tightly and not let go until the silly filly understood just how beautiful she truly was.
However, Celestia was and is a good and responsible princess. She would not so readily abandon her duties on a whim. She woke Luna first.
A few kisses and a bit of tender love was all it took to convince Twilight. She was mere putty in her hooves, and Celestia struggled not to abuse this power. Though finally willing to give them a chance, Twilight still wanted their relationship to remain a secret. Celestia did not question her. As long as there was something, she would wait as long as necessary for Twilight to be comfortable.
It might take years, or decades, or even centuries, but it made no difference to her. She was many millennia old, after all. The years would pass in no time.
Returning her attention to the present, Celestia giggled quietly to herself, closing her eyes and basking in the sensation of being in love. The tightness in her chest, the knots in her stomach, the warm blush on her cheeks. It never went away and she never wanted it to. She felt like squealing in delight or throwing up, maybe both.
Exhaling a long, happy sigh, she slowly opened her eyes and picked up the tightly bound scroll, imagining the flowing script and carefully worded affections sprinkled throughout casual conversation. Twilight has always been more romantic through writing, where she did not need to worry about stuttering or catching her breath.
Finally breaking the seal, she unrolled the scroll. To her mild surprise, a small box fell out. A quick look at the paper revealed no writing at all. She had assumed the weight of the scroll was due to a multitude of pages—something she was not unfamiliar with—but Twilight had apparently sent her a gift.
The box was very small, fitting snugly in her hoof. It was made of a dark wood, polished to be nearly black. The edges of a tiny, folded note stuck out from under the lid. Not wanting to ruin the surprise, she pulled the note free and read the familiar cursive.
I want my dress to be blue.
Celestia was very confused. Not a gift, but a request for a gift? That did not seem like Twilight at all, but it was clearly her writing, and the scroll bore her seal. Thinking the box would hold answers, or at least some clarity, she finally tilted the lid back on its hinges.
Her confusion only increased. Resting inside the box, just barely able to fit, was a ring of white gold. There were three deep purple amethysts lined up along the mounting, the center stone slightly larger than its companions. It appeared to be sized perfectly for her horn.
The ring was absolutely stunning, and Celestia appreciated the gesture, but Twilight should know that she never wears jewelry aside from her regalia. Perhaps it was simply meant for display, or to only be worn at formal events like the Gala. Aside from that, she could not possibly understand why Twilight would-
The empty box fell to the floor as she finally made the connection. Ring grasped tightly in her magic, she stared at it through wide eyes, viewing its elegant make in a wonderful, beautiful, perfect new light. Papers forgotten, she ran to find Luna.
She caused quite the stir, sprinting down the halls of the palace and into her sister's room. Finding her awake and alert, Celestia almost yelled her request in the Royal Canterlot Voice.
"Lulu! Take over for today!" she exclaimed.
"What? What has happened, sister?" Luna called after the retreating form.
Not slowing down, Celestia gleefully shouted back her reply.
"I need to find a wedding planner!"
Author's Note
Very short, kinda rushed. I just needed to get it out of my head so it would stop bugging me.
Writing a Twilestia fic. How low have I fallen?
