Nothing Old Can Stay

by Coronet the lesser

Rating: everyone
Tags: Princess Luna, Princess Celestia, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 1667

Celestia loves Autumn. For its gentle weather, the colours of the season and the heralding of what may come. The world is changing and much like the seasons, Celestia must change too.

Princess Celestia loves Autumn.

For the hues of its leaves, the gentle breezes, and the heralding of the end of summer. As the seasons change, so too does the world. Where once there was certainty for Equestria, now the road ahead is obscure.

Celestia, for one, welcomes it.

Published 2019-09-08 19:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2019-09-08 19:50:01 UTC

The Season of Mist and Mellow Fruitfulness

Princess Celestia loved autumn.

It had always been that way since she was but a small filly learning under Starswirl. She could not say why the season appealed to her so. Perhaps she had forgotten. It mattered little to her.

She stood beneath a canopy of trees within a familiar forest. She could not place its name, but it was no stranger to her.

The tree’s branches intermingled to form a tunnel. The road was covered in fallen leaves, already some shrubs lay naked, pale like bone. The rest hung aflame with vibrant hues of orange, illuminated by the maturing sun. The crescent of its light peeking over distant western hills as it descended slowly towards a well-earned rest.

The leaves fell before her, as they performed their final twirling dance. She briefly pondered what they would say if they could speak. Would they be content that their purpose was served? That in doing so they, the old, made way for the coming of the new.

She loved to feel the crunch of the leaves beneath her hooves. The sound, familiar to all those that enjoyed the season, bore a comforting nostalgia. A wave of pleasant memories sprung forth from the edges of her mind, like the warm embrace of an old friend. Only the gentle paths of the forest road could bring forth such a thing.

She resumed her trot upon the trail.

She did not know where it would go.

The birds sang as she moved deeper into the wood. Their voices were a choir carried by the gentle breeze, a herald for the passing of the day. Celestia's eyes moved to beyond the flora, to that which flew and scurried. From the shrubs, the redbreast chirped happily at her approach. The squirrels scattered upon the tree trunks as they peeked out curiously from their burrows. The woodlarks shifted steadily from the resting places of their nests as blackbirds descended upon fallen fruit.

Life continued as always, marching forward incessantly. It did not ponder the troubles of the world. It asked not why the leaves fell, why the sun grew cooler or even why the food, once so plentiful in the fields, now became scarce.

Yet these small creatures feared not of what may end but the anticipation of what was to come.

She let them be and continued her journey.

The road ahead was still long.

It always was.

Celestia inhaled deeply. Her wings ruffled at the breeze, but she was not cold. The smell of smoke was never too far off, the burning of coal in the fireplaces of distant manors lingered in the air. The flowers were gone from the fields, they were of summer, the tracks had ripened, and the first harvests were soon to be collected.

The trees parted at the mouth of the pathway into a wide clearing. A small river parted the landscape. It obstructed the way forward. To her left, a lonely ridge rose above the banks of the river, a single tree perched upon its summit. Green leaves lingered upon its limbs, the lone outlier amongst a sea of orange. Its trunk bore deep fissures, yet its roots were strong and ran deep into the earth.

It was proud but alone beneath the fading light.

Celestia settled herself beneath its comforting shade, directly overlooking the creek. From her vantage point, the sky was open to her. She awaited the sunset. A wooden bridge intersected over the slow stream; its boards were worn but functional.

It was a road well-trodden.

Celestia was not yet ready to cross to the other side.

She could wait.

The wind picked up around her. Its gentle kiss trailed along her neck and withers, she instinctively shivered. As it moved, it seemed to whisper to her. Celestia smiled gently and closed her eyes.

It was not a whisper but a voice.

“You can come out now.”

The air whipped violently as the leaves around her collected into a funnel, rising and rising until they brushed the lower branches of the tree before they settled and dispersed. A pony appeared from the whirlwind. Her dark coat stood out vividly amongst the waning hues of the twilight evening.

It could only belong to one pony.

“I did not wish to intrude,” said Princess Luna.

Celestia turned her head to greet her guest. Her eyes stared up at her sheepish looking sister. Luna's look of embarrassment reminded Celestia of the young, insecure, mare of their collective youth, not the ancient alicorn of the night, which she had become. It was endearing, Celestia thought.

“You? Intrude?” She shook her head. “Never.” Celestia wriggled restlessly, something which did not go unnoticed. Luna was silent. Her gaze had not met her sisters, her eyes lay beyond, to the world of falling leaves and soothing mists.

“You've been having the same dream lately.” It was not a question, more of a statement. Her tone was blunt and factual. Luna rarely bothered with pleasantries.

“Hmmm, it is a pleasant dream.”

“Autumn 'tis but a season,” said Luna candidly. Celestia’s mouth thinned until her expression was neutral. Luna wilted before her disapproval. "I do not see why it consumes you so."

“I disagree.” Celestia motioned her head to the surrounding wood. “You are the Matron of Dreams, tell me what you see?” Luna snorted. Whether it was because her sister had used formalities or at the insinuation that she was unimaginative. It amused Celestia regardless.

“I see leaves, trees, wildlife, uh, mountains, I suppose.” She seemed insulted at the banality of what she took in. Luna clicked her tongue. Her eyes scanned across the riverbank.

Not too far from it, was a lone park bench. Seated upon its façade, lay a singular purple alicorn reading a book.

Her mane was angular and formal, and her coat contrasted lovingly with the leaves that playfully danced around her. A golden scarf rested upon her neck; her vision was cast down onto the dusty pages of a book. Its words the lone source of her focus until a draft pushed stray leaves before her eyes. Its hold over her broken, she lifted her head from its sheets, briefly reminding the mare that her reality was more than the written word.

Celestia smiled tenderly.

“Ah, I see,” said Luna.

“So, you do.” Luna moved to settle next to her sister. She folded her legs beneath her barrel. The two enjoyed the quiet autumn noise. There was nothing but the sound of flowing water, the rustle of leaves caught in the wind and the occasional crows of birds. These were the sounds of peace to Celestia. The gentle lull to sleep before the coming of the night.

“Do you think she will be a good ruler?” asked Luna. Celestia's eyes never moved from the distant mare.

“I believe so.”

“The burden is great,” said Luna slowly. Her wings ruffled; the breeze had become biting as if feeding upon the lunar mare’s doubts. “To be ready for such…it is not easy.” Celestia turned her head.

“Were we ready all those years ago?” spoke Celestia softly. Luna had the decency to blush. It was good that she had not forgotten those peculiar times of distant yore.

“I suppose we were not.”

“We made many mistakes,” mumbled Celestia carefully.

“Some more than others,” whispered Luna. Celestia frowned, she extended her wing over Luna's withers. She did not reject it. No longer did Luna stir from the cold.

“I know I cannot forgive everything that has occurred, but for what I can forgive, I do. A thousand times and more.”

“Thank you,” breathed Luna. She huddled closer to Celestia. The taller mare basked in the presence of her sister. They had been through so much on their long journey. The years passed like seasons to them, here one moment and then gone the next. The young grew old and perished, yet they stayed the same. They were two constants amongst the ever-changing.

But they had each other and for Celestia that was enough.

“I believe you,” said Luna after a while.

“Why?”

“Because she is the best of us.” For the first time, Luna's gaze fixed firmly upon the bookish alicorn, and soon she smiled too. It was small and brittle, but it was Luna's, and that's what made it special. "All is change, and for that, we must change too. She will make it so."

“That is true,” sighed Celestia. It was as if a great burden had lifted from her. “It is a relief that you agree.” Celestia leaned in closer. Luna had been gone so long, she sometimes needed to remind herself that her younger sister was real. “We will all be her students soon.”

“Is it wrong to say that it does not stay the fear in my heart?” muttered Luna. She looked beyond the book bound alicorn, to the sky above. In the distance, menacing clouds of dark grey lingered upon the horizon. “You know what the ponies of old said.” Celestia listened patiently. “Come autumn; winter clouds never stray too far.” Celestia rested her head against her sister’s. She closed her eyes. Luna reciprocated, she trembled and held onto her sister just like she used to do when the world was young, and life had seemed like such a simple thing.

“Well, they also said that after the darkest winter, always comes spring.”

They hugged in a gentle embrace, sharing in their collective warmth and hope. They sat there on the ridge by the river until the sun dipped below the rolling hills. Its last rays scattered across the sky till naught, but Twilight encompassed the earth.

The alicorn closed her book.

Author's Note

Short story I wrote in a couple of hours. Wanted to capture the change in the season and my feelings in general surrounding FIM at this uncertain time.

I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it.