Princess-Teacher Conference
One pleasant aspect of transit portals was that they gave Chancellor Neighsay some time to think as he approached his destination. Or, in today's case, time to calm down. By the time he reached his personal office, filled with his diplomas, awards, and personal collection of old editions of the EEA guidelines, he had regained some degree of composure.
"A word, if you please, Neighsay?"
Composure he almost immediately lost by jumping back from Celestia, knocking into his desk, and knocking his meticulously arranged paperwork askew. "What is it, Princess?" he said, focusing more on undoing the damage than the literal alicorn in the room.
"You can call me Celestia if you'd like," said that alicorn, not seeming to even register the snub, much less react to it. "I'd much rather speak with my old student than the chancellor of the EEA."
"Proper royal protocol is clear on the matter." Satisfied that his desk at least approached reasonable order, Neighsay sat and gave the princess a proper glare. "Assuming I will remain chancellor come tomorrow. Assuming the EEA even exists tomorrow."
Celestia quirked an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing across her lips. "Don't you think you're being a little extreme?"
"Am I? That farce of a school is operating unaccredited, its headmare acting without oversight and literally making up the rules as she goes!" Neighsay slammed his hoof down on the portion of his desk left clear for such a purpose. "Princess or not, she has no right to dismiss my entire organization out of hoof because of some technicality that only exists in her own mind." He snorted. "However, she remains a princess, and if the other schools see her trampling on proper procedure, chaos is sure to follow in her wake."
"I saw the Montesparkle Method regulations," said Celestia. "I'd hardly call them chaotic. They looked at least four times as long as the EEA rulebook."
Neighsay rolled his eyes. "Please. Anypony can perform some ludicrous, Rockhoovian feat of bookbinding. If even ten percent of those pages actually have anything written on them, I'll eat my goatee."
The smile returned, edging into a smirk. "I don't think you'll find any hay fries in there this time."
Neighsay shot Celestia a glare that reduced lesser ponies to quivering lumps. "We agreed to never speak of that incident again."
"In any case, rest assured, neither you nor the EEA are going anywhere any time soon. The Association's centuries of work speak for themselves, and I have nothing but respect for your work in ensuring that Equestria's schools are the finest they can be."
"Yes, clearly," Neighsay said with a sneer. "I can tell by how you supported your personal pupil as she mocked my profession and made her school the first step on Equestria's road to ruin."
Celestia frowned, not a scowl but small, confused moue. "I must admit, you have me at a loss, Chancellor. What exactly do you think will happen when the other creatures of our world gain a better understanding of friendship?"
"Isn't it obvious? Look at all the horrors we've faced from nonequine forces in the past few years: Discord sowing madness on a whim, Tirek rampaging across the country." Neighsay shot to his hind legs, supporting his body against the desk and lunging his head forward. "The yeti invasion Twilight Sparkle and company barely fended off last month!"
Celestia betrayed no reaction to the outburst. "I'm aware, Chancellor," she said, infuriatingly calm, her tone like a mother soothing a colicky foal. "I was there."
He sat back down, straightening his sash of office. "Then you will recall how that incident occurred during a so-called 'Festival of Friendship' where Princess Sparkle ordered the entire guard stand down for the day. The mare has no appreciation for risks to our country."
"And I hope you will recall that it was a pony who led that invading army, and who petrified me."
"A pony who had been misled by a powermongering maniac of a simian who exploited the desire any such unfortunate would have to be whole again."
"And who misled King Sombra? Starlight Glimmer? Even..." Celestia shut her eyes and, after a deep breath, said, "even Nightmare Moon? You will find that ponies are as likely to turn to darkness as any other creature, of their own volition."
"Be that as it may, at least we have a proper understanding of harmony. Those savages beyond Equestria's borders would comprehend strength in numbers, yes, but not the deeper and more subtle underpinnings of unity that truly make this nation great. All they would see is a way to overwhelm us and try to take that greatness for their own." Neighsay threw up his hooves as he went on. "Picture legions of yaks marching towards Canterlot, the skies choked with more armored wings than even you can imagine." Another slam of his hoof in the proper spot. "Mark my words, that is what will come of Princess Twilight's school!"
"You will find that my imagination is a bit better than you may think, Chancellor." Celestia brought a hoof to her lips. "Though I do have to find the image you painted an interesting one."
Neighsay crossed his forelegs. "I would hope that the impending destruction of the civilization you spent centuries perfecting would qualify as interesting."
"You misunderstand me. I find it interesting on two counts. Firstly, it is almost identical to what your ancestors feared during the Three Tribes Era. Simply replace the yaks with earth ponies and the air forces with pegasi."
"Yes, you raised that point at the school. Quite publicly." Neighsay tried to glare at Celestia but found he couldn't do so any harder. "But last I checked, pegasi neither breathe fire nor grow to the size of buildings based solely on their state of mind."
"The second reason," Celestia said as though she'd never been interrupted, "is because it was only Princess Twilight's quick thinking that averted that exact scenario today."
Silence reigned for a few moments as Neighsay considered that. "I beg your pardon?"
Celestia nodded. "Were I the more vengeful sort, you would be wise to do so. Indeed, when Princess Luna finds out about this..." She trailed off and shook her head, her expression the portrait of sympathy. "Well, I apologize in advance for the sleepless nights."
Neighsay gritted his teeth. "Princess, this isn't Applied Hieromancy 401! I have no patience for you talking around what you're trying to say."
"I would have thought a stallion so concerned with our schools meeting the highest standards would appreciate being taught a lesson." Celestia shrugged her wings. "But if you wish, I will be blunt." She fixed a glare at Neighsay that made all of his earlier efforts seem like one of Councilstallion Waddle's half-blind squints. "The world nearly went to war today, and it is your fault."
He drew back as best he could with his chair against the wall. "Excuse me?"
Despite her expression, Celestia's voice remained as calm as ever. "Think back to the accreditation process of the School of Friendship. Consider what you said, and around whom. To whom."
Neighsay settled himself in his chair and shut his eyes to focus on the intellectual debate. That it shut out the continuing, soul-piercing stare was merely a side benefit. "All I did was state the truth. The other species have proven themselves time and time again to be a clear and obvious danger to our way of life. Ponies should never walk through their own capital in chains again. Princess Twilight was supposed to provide a school to ensure that."
"I have a copy of her proposal, you know. Nowhere does she mention self-defense in the curriculum." Celestia's voice hardened, losing any trace of the sympathy and kindness that Neighsay had always associated with it. "And you're avoiding my point. What did you say? Who heard you?"
"I described the obvious facts before me, and if beings we should never allow within our borders happened to hear me, I fail to see how that is my problem!" Neighsay's eyes snapped open in his passion, and he stared directly at the sun princess.
For a brief time, it seemed like a contest of wills. Then Neighsay's eyes began to burn, and he realized neither of them had blinked for a very long time. With a hiss, he looked away.
"It is your problem because those are our allies," said Celestia, her voice quickly entering the familiar cadence of a lecture. "Our trading partners. Our protectorates. The signatories of defense pacts, research agreements, extradition treaties, and more. I defer to you in matters of education, Chancellor Neighsay, because I trust your commitment to and understanding of academic excellence. But in matters of diplomacy, of trade, of national defense? Your opinion is no more important than that of any random pony off the street. And when Princess Twilight invited students to attend from around the world, with my assistance, all of those considerations entered the equation.
"In that regard, Twilight is entirely correct. Her school is something different. It teaches a curriculum never before considered to students Equestria hasn't seen since the experimental foreign exchange program between Griffonstone and Cloudsdale."
Neighsay presented a counterpoint almost reflexively. "A program that rightfully collapsed."
"Because of the then-ongoing slow collapse of Griffonstone in general. My point, Chancellor, is that this had become bigger than you, but you refused to look past your fear to see that. And that fear so blinded you that you managed to incite no fewer than five international incidents with your poorly chosen words. I dare say Discord would be proud."
"Mildly." Neighsay leapt onto his desk, wincing as he felt paperwork shift beneath him. Still, it was preferable to sitting in the lap of the draconequus who had replaced his chair. Discord smirked at him, then stretched out almost, but not quite parallel to the floor. "I was more impressed by how he drove Twilight into a nest of tear-soaked pillows. Did you know it was Starlight Glimmer, one of the more existential-level equine threats Twilight's defused over the years, who advised her to buck tradition? Now there's a pony to be proud of. But this one?" Discord blew a raspberry. " Warmongers. Please. Wars are such messy affairs, and rarely in a fun way."
Something whistled as it approached, making Neighsay flatten his ears as the pitch dropped. Then his chair dropped with it, splattering Discord into crimson smears that thankfully smelled of strawberries.
"Discord actually brings me to my next point," said Celestia, not even missing a beat as she began applying cleaning spells to the jam. "Princess Twilight's ongoing diplomatic efforts have forged strong bonds with each of the nations you antagonized. The brute strength in numbers you so fear has become an asset to Equestria rather than a threat, much like Discord himself, Starlight Glimmer, Tempest Shadow, and even my own sister." She smiled. "Twilight and her friends have something of a talent for that."
"And we've seen how reliable Discord can be," said Neighsay, working his own magic at one sugary splotch that had nearly ruined a month's worth of documentation for determining optimal lunch tray size for magic academies.
"Yes, when ponies treated him like a caged, wild animal waiting to spring on the unwary." Celestia turned to Neighsay, not with a glare, but a look of disappointment that was somehow worse. "Much as you treat our allies. Mistrust brings mistrust in return, and I dare say we'll need to make several diplomatic concessions to soothe all the ruffled feathers from these past few days. Especially with the griffons."
"Cute." Neighsay dropped another glob of frozen fruit spread into his wastebasket. "Princess, if one's stallion's words are enough to push these creatures to the brink of war, do we really want them as our allies?"
"Would you prefer them as our enemies? We've reached out to them, Chancellor. Pretending they don't exist is no longer an option. Especially not when one considers what came of paying so little attention to the south."
Neighsay winced. "I suppose. Are we done here, or should I expect to see you write up a new charter for the School for Gifted Unicorns?"
"I'm hardly in a position to perform the same changes as Princess Twilight." A bit of lightness returned to Celestia's tone. "I doubt my students will appreciate a curriculum that focuses mainly on raising the sun. No, as I assured you, Equestria will still have need of the EEA, and of you at its head. I can hardly deny you a second chance when I've extended them to so many who have done so much worse."
Paperwork restored and office sparkling, Neighsay set himself back in his chair. "Truly, your graciousness knows no bounds, Your Highness."
"That being said, I will be watching you. Headmare Celestia of the School of Gifted Unicorns answers to you, Chancellor Neighsay. Her Royal Highness Princess Celestia Invicta of Equestria, Shepherd of the Sun, Mistress of the Day, and bearer of countless other titles besides does not." Celestia raised a hoof as he drew himself up for a response. "The Equestrian Education Association may operate independent of the crown, but I'm sure you will appreciate my taking national security more seriously should you threaten it again. I hope that we won't have to face such an unfortunate situation again." She lit her horn. Neighsay's own experience with travel spells let him feel space bending around her. "Good day to you, Chancellor. I hope I've given you something to think about."
Neighsay simply nodded and covered his eyes against the flash of sunlight. "Yes, Your Highness," he muttered as his vision cleared. "You certainly have."
Author's Note
The "fry in beard" bit is a voice actor joke. Celestia and I were both trying to lighten the mood, but Neighsay would have nothing of it.
And this is Equestria we're talking about. Everyone gets a second chance there. But not everyone gets a third. Thanks to Carapace for giving me the perspective shift necessary to keep this from being yet another "Sunhorse Yells at Bureaucrat" fic. At least, I hope it is.
