Celestia had a secret. It was a dark, terrible secret, the kind of secret that would surely shake Canterlot to its very foundations if it ever came to light.
She didn’t like mornings very much.
Of course, everyone assumed that since she was in charge of raising the sun, and had been in the position for thousands of years, she must have gotten used to it at some point or another. After all, how could the goddess of the sun possibly hate her own holy charge? But there it was. Every morning, she would feel the sun pressing at the edge of the world, clamoring to be let in, like a particularly urgent call of nature. She occasionally tried ignoring it, but she was never able to get back to sleep, and ponies had an annoying habit of panicking when the sun failed to rise. So she would get up and raise the sun, and then the servants and the assistants and the bureaucrats would know she was up, and pretty soon they’d be oh-so-politely knocking at the door, asking if she needed anything, reminding her of the schedule for the day, and generally making a me-damned nuisance of themselves. So Celestia would put on her princessly face, and go out to greet her little ponies, and secretly wish that she’d just let Nightmare Moon win a thousand years ago.
This particular morning was especially bad. It was always bad the night after the Grand Galloping Gala, because the nobles seemed to conveniently forget that she was the sun goddess, and was supposed to be up when the sun was. This time, though, she’d made the mistake of actually enjoying herself. After Twilight and her friends had finished demolishing the party in the most amusing way possible, Celestia had indulged herself and spent several hours with them. The problem was, while their sleep schedules might have been negotiable, hers was very much not. And so, she once again found herself waking up at the forsaken hour of six o’clock, with a healthy four hours of sleep under her wing.
Celestia half-stumbled, half-fell out of bed, muttering a string of curses which had been illegal for several centuries. She dragged her carcass over to the window, closed her eyes, tried to avoid falling asleep again, located the sun, and gave it a good yank. The horizon started to lighten. Satisfied, she began to walk towards the bathroom, but somehow found the bed in her way. Shortly afterwards, her head was back on the pillow where it belonged.
Knock knock knock. No. Go away. I’m asleep. I can’t even hear you.
Knock knock knock. “Princess? Do you require anything?”
Yes. I require you to buck off and let me sleep. “Nothing. I shall be out shortly.”
Once again, Celestia underwent the torment of leaving the paradise that was her bed for the inhumane torture that was everywhere else. This time, she persevered, making it into the bathroom. She stumbled into the shower, pulled the chain, and was rewarded with a downpour of ice water.
Some good fortune stopped her from instinctively using the Royal Canterlot Voice as she leapt out of the shower shrieking. The last time that had happened, the cost of replacing windows had run into the tens of thousands of bits. I thought they fixed that bucking thing already. How long does it take to get a water heater replaced? Alright, shower. You want to play hardball? We can play hardball.
Reaching inside herself, to her connection with the sun, Celestia conjured just a bit of sunfire and placed it in the water tank above the shower. Well, maybe more than a bit. The room was instantly flooded with searing steam, hot enough to melt the skin off a mortal pony. Shrugging, Celestia stepped back into the shower, enjoying the burst of superheated water. There were advantages to being the sun goddess, after all.
After her adventure in the shower, Celestia felt somewhat more awake. She left the bathroom, making sure to vent the fatally hot steam in case a maid happened to do an unscheduled cleaning again, and donned her royal vestments. Then she dried herself and straightened her coat with a quick pulse of magic, took a deep breath, and left her rooms.
They were waiting for her, of course. “Good morning, Princess,” said her secretary, a unicorn with golden hair named Sunbeam. As far as Celestia could tell, Sunbeam’s special talent was to make her life as miserable as possible while staying strictly within The Rules. “If you would please accompany me, your breakfast has already been laid out in your sitting room. I’m afraid we’re going to have to cut it slightly short this morning. A special session of day court has been scheduled in half an hour to deal with the... events of last night. Several of the nobles have also requested personal meetings this afternoon. I took the liberty of scheduling them in place of your daily hour for tea in the gardens. After that, you have a meeting with the gryphon ambassador, who has concerns about...”
Celestia caught herself wondering how long it had been since she’d ordered somepony’s head put up on a spike. If she already knows what’s going to happen at all those meetings, why doesn’t she go to them? Maybe then she’d stop scheduling so bucking many. Instead, she heard herself serenely say, “Thank you, Sunbeam. As always, your service is invaluable.”
“Oh, of course, your Highness. It’s my pleasure,” said Sunbeam. She gave the princess a bright smile, which Celestia returned, briefly pondering if, at some point in the past few centuries, some malicious spirit had possessed her and was forcing her to act so damned agreeable.
No matter how much Celestia might have disliked her life, she had become very good at it over the course of a few hundred years. These days, she was able to largely tune out while she carried out her routine, like pretending to enjoy her breakfast of sprouts and arugula (How did disgusting food become stylish, anyway? If I want to eat cake for breakfast, why shouldn’t I?), or sitting through an endless litany of functionaries listing the damages from last night’s gala (Don’t think I don’t hear that condescending undertone, you little plothole. We’ll see who’s laughing when you get reassigned to sewer maintenance), or going to audience after audience after audience with all the nobles who’d had their feathers ruffled (If I have to hear about your delicate bucking sensibilities one more time, I’m going to tell you what I used to do with your great-great-great-great-grandfather. In detail).
The loss of her tea hour hit her especially hard. Celestia didn’t often realize how much she counted on having a bit of time to herself to recover in the middle of the day. Combined with her lack of sleep, her facade really was on the edge of cracking. As the day wore on, Celestia started to consider inventing some sort of heavenly catastrophe that only she could deal with, just so she could get a few moments of peace. But then, a few hours before sunset, blessed relief came to her in the form of an outraged sister.
Celestia was reviewing tax reports, or at least pretending to, when there was a disturbance outside her study. She looked up as the doors flew open and Luna stormed in, trailed by a pair of rather flustered guards.
“SISTER! WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS? DIDST THOU THINK WE WOULD NOT FIND OUT EVENTUALLY?”
The assistants and bureaucrats were nearly sent flying by Luna’s expert use of the Royal Canterlot Voice. Celestia made a small gesture, and the whole lot of them fled out the door, sending a wave of intense relief through her. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to be a little more specific,” she told her sister as she shut the door.
“We have just come from the travesty thou callest the Royal Museum. Dost thou seek to humiliate us even further by displaying Umbra as a trophy of battle? Was our abject defeat not enough for thee?”
“Huh?” asked Celestia, genuinely confused for a moment. “Oh, right! Your blade. I’d forgotten that was even there. I haven’t visited the museum in at least a few decades. I doubt anypony even remembers what it is anymore, but you can have it taken down if you like. If it makes you feel any better, though, Corona is there too.”
Luna was taken aback by that. “Really? Thou placed thine own spear on display? What if thou should need it, though?”
“I don’t know why I would. I told you before, we haven’t had a war in seven hundred years or so.”
“I... I suppose thou art correct,” said Luna. “It just seems odd to us. Before our banishment, neither one of us would have separated ourselves from our weapons in such a way. Is thine spear not also a symbol of thine authority and power?”
“It’s not a symbol I need anymore,” said Celestia. “Equestria is so much better off now that the threat of violence isn’t needed to keep ponies safe.” It was something she told herself every night. As long as Equestria was better off, any sacrifice she had to make was worth it. If she had to give up her own happiness to ensure the happiness of her little ponies, then so be it.
“Perhaps thou art correct. Very well; I shall take my leave, then. Please forgive the interruption.”
“Wait,” said Celestia as Luna started towards the door. She quickly cast around for an excuse to keep her sister from leaving, abandoning her once more to the functionaries. She settled on, “I did not see you at the gala last night. Did you attend at all?”
“Thou knowest I dislike such spectacles,” said Luna, frowning at her. “And the nobles dislike me, as well.”
Celestia gave a short laugh. “And do you believe I enjoy it? I hardly blame you for skipping it.”
Luna looked confused. “If thou dost not enjoy it, why dost thou attend?”
“It’s important that we do our duty,” said Celestia. “Besides, it was... more entertaining than usual last night.”
“I have heard as much,” said Luna, a brief look of amusement flitting across her face. “But I still do not understand. If thou findest wreaking havoc on the gala amusing, why dost thou not do so every year?”
“I can only get away with a stunt like that once every few decades,” said Celestia regretfully. “I had to spend the whole day smoothing ruffled feathers. I shudder to think what the nobility would do if I tried something like that again.”
“What wouldst they do?” asked Luna.
“They would probably tie up parliament in procedures for years. They would oppose my every move just to spite me. It would be impossible to get anything done.”
Strangely, Luna looked more confused than ever. “How wouldst they oppose you? They have not the power to keep you from doing what you wish to do.”
Celestia chuckled. “Forgive me. I always forget how much things have changed in the past thousand years. We can’t simply do as we like any longer. We need to respect the sovereignty of parliament.”
“Why?”
Celestia was taken aback. “Well, parliament makes most of the important decisions regarding the governing of Equestria now. It’s important that the ponies have a say in their country.”
“Art thou saying that this parliament now rules the country in our place?”
“Well, no, not exactly. We still have an important role to play. It is still our duty to move the sun and moon, and protect our ponies from any threats which might appear.”
“If we rule the heavens, should we not rule over those beneath it? If we do not, why do they not move the heavens themselves, as the unicorns of old did? Perhaps I misunderstand, but it seems that thou hast given up thine authority for nothing.”
“It’s not for nothing,” said Celestia with a touch of irritation. “Our ponies need us. It’s not as though we could just leave.”
“Why not?”
Celestia opened her mouth to respond, but the question was so absurd, she couldn’t find a reply to it. Of course they couldn’t just leave. What would Equestria do without them? Luna took advantage of her silence to continue her point. “Hast thou not just told me that our ponies govern themselves? Hast thou not said that our power is no longer needed to defend Equestria from harm? Do not think I have not seen thy unhappiness. Why dost thou allow these mortals to have such power over thee? They do not need thou, and thou most certainly does not need them.”
Celestia’s mouth opened and closed several more times. “But... what else would we do?” she finally asked.
* * *
My most faithful student, Twilight Sparkle,
I have an assignment of the utmost importance for you. The methods by which the ancient unicorns controlled the sun and moon have been lost for thousands of years. It is my wish that you travel to Canterlot, to the royal library, and rediscover this ancient magic. Of all the ponies in Equestria, I believe that you are the most suited for this task, the import of which shall be made clear to you soon. You have my complete faith in this endeavor.
Princess Celestia
“Twilight? Hey, Twilight? Are you okay?”
“Huh? What? What’s going on? Where are we?”
“We’re just landing in Canterlot now. I think you must have passed out from hyperventilation. Again. Seriously Twilight, you need to relax a little bit.”
Twilight sprang up, becoming fully aware, and nearly fell out of the carriage. “Relax? Relax!? Did you read the letter Princess Celestia sent me? She wants me to rediscover how to raise the sun and moon! ME! Rediscover how to raise the sun and moon!"
“Yeah, Twilight, I heard you the first time. And all the times after that, too,” muttered Spike.
“I don’t know if I can do that! What if I can’t? She says it’s of the utmost importance! What if she’s secretly been dying for the last few decades and was training me to be her replacement!?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Twilight!” said Spike as the carriage touched down. “The princess is fine. Come on, let’s go find her. I’m sure she’ll explain everything.”
“Right. Find the princess,” said Twilight, vanishing from the carriage in a purple blur. “Excuse me, can you tell me where Princess Celestia is?” she said as she barely stopped herself from ramming into the first guard she saw.
“Um... I’m afraid I can’t,” said the guard, stumbling back a step.
“What? Why not!? Is she alright? Has she been trapped in a horrific dream world of guilt and depression from exploiting the power of the sun for too long?”
“What? No, of course not. She’s just, um, not here.”
“Well, where is she then?”
“I, uh... I don’t know.”
Twilight gave the guard a stare that made him back up several paces to avoid being singed. “She... She kind of left,” he said, cringing.
“What do you mean, she kind of left? What exactly happened?”
“Well...”
* * *
Celestia dived, narrowly avoiding a magnificent triple-layer cake traveling at nearly supersonic velocity. Pinpointing the source of the attack, she retaliated with a barrage of pies and cinnamon rolls from the shell of baked goods hanging suspended in the air around her. There was a pulse of blue light as her sister teleported out of the way, and the delicious artillery shells splattered against the wall of the mansion behind her, which Celestia was fairly sure belonged to Prince Blueblood. She smirked.
Glancing behind her, she saw that one of the squads of pegasus guards had nearly caught up to her again. They had been chasing her all morning, although she wasn’t quite sure what they intended to do if they caught her. With a sweep of her wings, she twirled, scattering the formation as she charged through. She caught a quick blur of dark blue out of the corner of her eye, and she and Luna exchanged another volley of high velocity pastries, sending the guards diving for cover.
The massacre had begun just after dawn. Celestia had spent the rest of the day discussing the strange new idea of freedom with Luna, her sister’s presence serving as a ward against the bureaucrats and nobles. She had eventually fallen asleep in Luna’s rooms without the knowledge of the palace staff. Her sister had woken her an hour before it was time to raise the sun, and for once Celestia did not object. Together, they snuck down to the kitchen to amass their arsenals. Then, the chaos had begun.
The dining hall was the first casualty. The royal sisters had barged in at opposite ends and engaged in a blistering joust involving lemon tarts and apple fritters. The room had been rather crowded at the time, breakfast being delayed due to the sudden lack of food in the kitchens, and the sight of functionaries desperately running for cover had warmed Celestia’s heart in a way she hadn’t felt for centuries. After the dining hall, they had systematically demolished the rest of the palace, and then moved on to the city at large.
Although she had to admit it probably wasn’t the best way to announce her imminent departure from Equestria, Celestia had a full thousand years of payback to get out of her system and only a single morning to do it. As she unleashed the last of her ammunition, she surveyed the city below and decided she’d done a fairly decent job of it. It was amazing what two goddesses could do with the contents of one royal kitchen, three bakeries, and six pastry and candy shops, and a dozen fruit stands. There had been panic in the streets at first, of course, but everypony had figured out to say indoors fairly quickly. There was a certain satisfaction in knowing that she’d just participating in the greatest food fight in all of history.
Exhausting the last of her ammunition, Celestia took up position over the tallest tower in the palace. A few moments later, Luna joined her. “I believe they have grasped our point. Shall we be off, then?”
“In a moment. First, I think there a couple of items we need to retrieve from the Royal Museum.”
Losing the pursuing guards was a trivial task now that they weren’t trying to draw attention to themselves. The Royal Museum was deserted, of course, the attendants having fled and the guards running around the city in full panic. The only sound was their hooves clacking against the marble floor. Celestia was surprised at how liberating not wearing her usual regalia was.
“You know, our little performance might actually be for the best,” she said casually as they walked. “It should do a rather splendid job of showing the dangers of vesting absolute power in anypony.”
“Of course,” said Luna. “I am certain the welfare of the ponies was foremost in thine mind the entire time.”
“Oh, be quiet when I’m trying to justify my actions to myself.” Celestia was silent for a moment. “Do you think we’re doing the right thing?”
“A bit late for a change of heart, is it not?” asked Luna.
“Not just leaving Equestria, but giving up our connection to the sun and moon. The greater part of our power will vanish once we cut the bond, you know.”
Luna shrugged. “They have brought us nothing but troubles for the past thousand years. I shall not be sad to be rid of them.”
“No, I suppose not. Ah, here we are.” They came to a large room filled primarily with weapons or other objects of a military nature. On the near wall hung a display case containing a long double-bladed sword, joined in the middle by a crescent moon sigil composed of sapphires and diamonds. Even after hundreds of years, the curved, silvery blades still gleamed with a cold light. They looked sharp enough to slice through one of the marble support columns holding up the roof, which was appropriate, since they were. However, Celestia turned for the far wall.
The spear was as long as Celestia was tall, and its hilt was a pure, alabaster white. At its head was a thin leaf blade that glowed slightly with an inner golden light. The display case was sealed with no means of opening it. Celestia briefly considered just shattering the glass and being done with it, but the moment seemed to call for a bit more finesse than that. Carefully, she applied heat around the edge of the case, just enough to melt the sealant that had been placed there. A minute later, the front of the case slipped off, and she placed on the floor next to her before slowly lifting Corona off its holders. She just held her spear for a minute, before rapidly twirling it twice and thrusting it down up the hilt in the marble floor.
“Art thou quite finished?” asked Luna, idly twirling Umbra from side to side. “We could wait until the guards discover us, if thou wouldst prefer.”
“Alright,” said Celestia, yanking Corona out of the floor. She twirled it once, and it vanished in a flash of sunlight. “Lead on, then.”
“Lead on? I was following thee,” said Luna as she made Umbra vanish in a twinkle of moonlight.
“What? This whole thing was your idea. Didn’t you have a plan for where we would go afterwards?”
“My idea? I merely mentioned it. It was thee who put it into action. Didst thou not consider what thou wouldst do after announcing thine departure in such a fashion?”
“I haven’t gone beyond the borders of Equestria in over two centuries! I barely even remember which nations neighbor us.”
“And dost thou suppose I have more knowledge of this subject than thou?”
“Oh, right.”
“With such piercing intellect, I am amazed thou managed to prevent Equestria from collapsing into chaos in the first fortnight, let alone for a thousand years.”
Celestia sighed explosively. “Oh, buck it. Pick a direction.”
Luna considered for a moment. “South.”
“South it is, then. Race you to the border?”
“Ha! Judging from thine appearance, thou hast spent more time training thine posterior than thine wings. Truly, I amazed thou canst fly at all. I shall have to hold back merely to be present when thou collapse from exhaustion.”
“Is that so? Well, if you want a good look at my plot, you can come over here and kiss it. Although on second thought, you’ll have a great view all the way to the border, since you’ll be - Hey! Come back here, you little cheater!”
Author's Note
The inspiration for this story original came while I was reading Dawnscroll's A Slice of Life and thought, "Jesus, why doesn't Celestia just ditch these guys already?" Then I decided to write a story about it, and about a year later, here it finally is. Fair warning: I'm doing this mostly to work off my writers block for my "more serious" writing, and I honestly have no idea where this story is going to end up. It will be updating on a "when I can be assed to" schedule. Also, before anyone asks, no, this story does not have any relation whatsoever to Aurora. Sorry.
Anyway, hope you enjoy.
