The Sunflower and the Rose
The Rose of Florentina
It all felt like a dream.
How could it not be, Celestia thought, striding through the halls of Canterlot Palace, her mind racing with every heartbeat. An alicorn bearing an old name, revealed in a village so far away. Perhaps it was a dream. Perhaps she had deluded herself. Dreams had never been her realm. Surely she would wake up very soon…
…But she knew it wasn’t. It had to be real. She had spoken to the alicorn. Beheld her as she first unfurled her wings in the field of stars. Looked into eyes that she had seen reflected in a mirror countless times. Promised her that she would come for her. That all would be set right.
Because for the first time in nearly a thousand years, she was not alone.
And nothing would convince her otherwise. Nothing, and no one.
Including the stallion who now pursued her, surely disappointing himself by galloping through the halls after he’d so long chided countless children for doing so.
“Your Highness! Wait, wait just a moment!”
Part of her felt a pang of guilt at leaving her advisor without another word, after she had broken the news so very proudly to him first. But she’d waited long enough.
“Wait, Kibitz? I’m afraid not!” Celestia exclaimed, her stride unbroken, “I cannot wait for too long. I must see her, as soon as possible.”
“But, Your Highness– hold up, I need… to catch my breath…” wheezed Kibitz. “Your Highness, if I may amend myself, would it not be wise to, to prepare for her first?”
Celestia paused. Kibitz skidded to a halt beside her. She turned to him, taking in the sight of the beige unicorn. His bushy moustache, a rich brown in colour to match his mane, was disheveled. His mane was pulled back in an impeccably tidy, taut ponytail. His red frock-coat had been hastily put on, over the pajamas he was wearing.
She offered him a sheepish little smile. “No, I... well, I suppose we should, shouldn’t we?”
Kibitz huffed, adjusting his monocle. “Yes, we should,” he deadpanned. “And goodness, Princess, if she is indeed not a natural-born one as you say, and– and raised amongst earthponies, would she be used to flight?”
“...No.”
“Right. Then an airship’s in order.”
“Sky-boat,” Celestia corrected. She rubbed her chin. “I wouldn’t want to draw any attention as is. Hmm… I don’t suppose Prince Blueblood’s available.”
“If he isn’t taking that yacht on joyrides with his son, that is. Ahem, then the Guard?”
“Captain Green Fields is in Canterlot at present, and so is his detachment,” Celestia answered. “I could ask him, first thing in the morning. We’ve got a long flight ahead.”
“Aye, the earlier, the better. All the way to Oleander, really!” Kibitz exclaimed, huffing. “It's quite the distance, I must say.”
“I’m sure the good captain won’t mind,” said Celestia, with a teasing smile. “You know how Trailblazers are, the whole daring lot. An unexpected adventure, what’s not to love for them?”
“They are indeed. Then I assure you the Palace is in good hooves until your return. Your Highness.”
“Only the best,” Celestia affirmed. A few moments’ silence, then a burst of laughter overcame her. “I’m sorry. Something must have come over me, to go up and just leave you there, Kibitz.”
“Yes, well…” Kibitz began, but something outside the Palace windows caught his attention. He let out a sigh. “I… it has been too long. I understand.”
“Thank you,” replied Celestia, quick and prim. “Then you are excused, my friend. Take your rest. And yes, I promise you I won’t up and leave once your back is turned.”
“I’ll hold you to that one, Your Highness,” said Kibitz, fighting back a yawn, “I’ll tend to the paperwork. Oh, and shall I inform Miss Shimmer as well?”
Celestia held up a forehoof.
“Don’t– not yet, no,” she said, her tone firm, or so she hoped it was. Hasty is what it was, truly. “I will tell her myself.” A brief pause percolated the air, then a long sigh followed. “She’ll understand, but she needs time.”
A nod from Kibitz, and he held his head up straight as only he could. “Very well. I’ll... I’ll leave you to it, Your Highness. You’ve got a long flight. Best to rest early.”
“Thank you for your concern, but I believe I shall stay up a while longer. I’ve got a lot to parse.”
Her advisor contemplated her for but a moment, through his monocle. He nodded.
“The gardens should still be open, Your Highness. And… if I may, the Moon is shining bright tonight. Impeccable work, as always.”
Her eyes felt warm and wet all at once, but Celestia did not let her feelings spill, choosing to smile the best that she could. “Marvellous. I’ll see you in the morning, we’ve much to discuss.”
“Take good care, Your Highness. We shall all be waiting here in Canterlot.”
A respectful nod from one another was all they exchanged to part ways. Yet long after Kibitz turned around the corner, as the Moon kept slowly rising higher and higher in the sky, Celestia remained there in the hallway, eyes beholding the lonely figure cast on the Moon’s surface.
Smiling through the tears that threatened to stream down her cheeks, she recalled the very words she had told the little rosey alicorn.
‘I will come for you. This will begin to make things right.’
* * * * *
In the days that were to follow, there was little that Celestia could recall.
All her thoughts cascaded, meshing into one, as she went through the motions, all the formalities and preparations of her travel. To find an alicorn across the sea, hidden in a secluded corner of the Oleandrite Republic. Pinpointing her location was trivial, for the Plane of Images had unveiled to Celestia the path of the alicorn’s ascension. Consultation with the Headmistress and Deputy Headmaster of her School, for the essentials to note of Oleander and its people. And so, with a skeleton crew of the Royal Guards’ Trailblazers unit under her command, Celestia’s stately sky-boat left Canterlot, with a promise that following week’s worth of travel, so too would they return in another week.
That much would be clear. They would recite to any enquiring souls what they had practiced; that this was just a flyover, and nothing more. Oleander was a peaceful nation, and neither they nor Equestria had ever had reason to pay the other any real concern when there were marauding warlords about, or unscrupulous companies, mercenary and otherwise.
Less clear to Celestia was what she ought to tell the little alicorn.
A lost realm’s legacy would be shouldered by the child, heir to Princess Amore, and by extension, Princess Luna. How had she arrived there? Had someone, as Celestia once dared to hope, beat the odds and succeeded in escaping the Crystal Realm’s disappearance? Most of all, where had they been, this lost line, in the centuries that followed the fall?
Celestia had shaken the thoughts away, whenever they intruded upon her mind, in the long days that went by aboard the sky-boat. She knew what she needed to do. Here, and now. Nothing more should be thought of it.
Only the little alicorn.
It was on the sixth day, just as planned, that they crossed the border. Despite initial surprise, the Oleandrite border-guard found they had little reason to deny the passage of an Equestrian civilian boat on a sightseeing trip, not least one headed by the Princess of the Sun herself.
Good. That ought to give her another day before the grapevine caught wind, both here and in Equestria.
On the seventh day, they arrived at the village at last. A quaint little place, nested deep within Oleander’s countryside. Strange, one could say, for Oleander was a coastal country. Less strange, when Celestia’s eyes beheld the many flowering trees that surrounded the village, the gift of the lasting Spring blessed upon the whole of Oleander.
Florentina was the village’s name, Celestia recalled. A name as fine and beautiful as any for this little sanctuary. Small, thatched cottages surrounded the central square, with winding old cobble and dirt paths all around. Different, they all were, so much unlike the rows of imposing, opulent homes of Canterlot with its tight-fitted paved roads, or the ivory towers of her palace. The sight of the bakery invited her to imagine the pleasant taste of freshly baked bread. Just before the sky-boat made its descent, Celestia spied a spacious greenhouse betwixt the treeline and a roomy cottage – and for a brief, longing moment, the scent of lavender was vivid in her mind.
The sky-boat she’d procured was neither the most glamorous, nor the most imposing. She had insisted on it, knowing how rare a sight it must have been for these villagers, to see visitors from beyond their hidden garden.
Yet as the sky-boat cast down its anchor and ramp, there were no cries of alarm, only hushed whispers and curious stares. A small crowd had gathered by the time Celestia emerged, escorted by Captain Green Fields and two others.
Oleander’s populace were, just as Griffonstone was filled with griffons and Mount Aris with hippogriffs, primarily earthponies. Florentina was no different. Earthponies of a robust, yet somehow graceful build. Gardeners, caretakers of the land, much like the Apple Family of Equestria.
Little seemed to suggest an alicorn was out of the ordinary, though, Celestia mused. Apart from a few curious stares, none questioned her appearance and form.
Two ponies came to speak with her directly. The matriarch of the village, Nonna Espina, introduced herself as such, as did the village mayor, Radice. But even amidst their decorum, Radice’s manners did precious little to hide his pride, judging by the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“May we see her?” asked Celestia, once she’d finished introducing herself. “I am sorry for cutting by, but it has been a long trip for my Guards and I.”
Hurried. Straight-talking. She could have done more to be less of those things.
Though worried and anxious she may be feeling, there was no offense or hurt in either Espina or Radice’s eyes. Only swelling pride, from the way a true smile broke on Espina, and a nod passed between the two of them. And so did the villagers break into hushed cheers, as they parted to reveal a ghost.
At least, a ghost was what Celestia thought of. A misty-eyed thought. The child did not share Amore’s colours, nor Radiant’s. But there was no mistaking the shimmer in her rosey pink coat, the grace in her steps, or the crystalline shine of her kind purple eyes. She was their kin, much like Luna was hers.
Then, before Celestia’s awestruck eyes, Mi Amore unfurled her wings, resplendent in the light of the Sun of Spring.
* * * * *
Equestrians were a strange bunch, Cadenza had decided. Very formal in their presentation, from the way the vessel had landed, to how this fancy Princess of theirs carried herself. As her playmate Benna told her, of course, there were more like them, all cordial and polite, over in Oleander’s capital of Belladonna, and Cadenza found that amusing. Whoever they were, she had little doubt few would be like the mare who now sat by her, in Nonna Espina’s greenhouse.
Earlier, Cadenza had gone there to settle her thoughts, once she'd parted with Benna, waiting for the Princess to finish the grown-up talk with her elderly caretaker. What they discussed, she could not tell, but a few glances stolen by the Princess towards her told much.
Such a fascinating mare. The Princess stood much taller than anyone Cadenza had ever seen. Not even the wandering enchantress Prismia had stood as tall as she. Yet whereas Prismia was both cold and distant, the Princess was neither, between her majestic, all-encompassing wings, her ethereal flowing mane of many colours, and her soothing voice, warm like a hearth in Winter.
Cadenza hadn’t known what to expect of her. Only, a greenhouse wasn’t where she’d imagined she’d be speaking to Equestria’s reigning monarch. Greenhouses were not pristine. It’d stain that beautiful alabaster fur of hers. Yet the Princess, her golden regalia absent, had come to meet her there, her only sign of discomfort being she’d had to duck her head past the doorway. Where Cadenza had expected her to inquire about lessons, the Princess merely asked for her story.
A sleeping foal, found deep in the forest. A child, her heart as strong as her wings were frail, raised by the whole village, flourishing as their love and joy. A trial presented to her by the strange traveller who’d taken the joy away from the village. Finally, the act of kindness that ascended her, blessed her with a unicorn’s horn and the strength her wings had lacked for so long, and brought her to the Princess of the Sun herself.
Just like a lovely fairy tale, the Princess had remarked, smiling without a hint of condescension. Such kind words, Cadenza reflected. She hoped her rosey pink cheeks were enough to hide her flustered blush, when Celestia further praised her spirit and resolve in aiding her village.
That was a good few moments ago, for their talk had petered away right after, leaving a rather uncomfortable silence hanging.
It was Cadenza who broke the silence, with a polite little cough.
“So, um, Your Highness,” said Cadenza. The Princess’s ears perked up, and their eyes met. “When are we leaving?”
She'd resolved not to give up on her village, back then. Now, another stranger had come, proposing to take her far away.
The Princess’ smile was tranquil. “Oh, a little excited, are we?” Her Oleandrite sounded like a lyric of old, and even the Equestrian captain that accompanied her lacked as perfect a voice or pronunciation as she possessed.
“Nervous, mostly. But I don’t have much to bring with me. It should be fine,” Cadenza admitted. “What’s Canterlot like? Are there more unicorns? Pegasi like me? Or, or earthponies? Sorry…”
“Such curiosity. Never apologise for that, Mi Amore. Curiosity is a virtue,” the Princess answered. She furrowed her brows. “Personally, I’d say it’s a lovely place to be. There are plenty of unicorns in Canterlot, as unicorns founded the city. We have a weather team, mountain-trained. Tricky. And I know for a fact that my student frequents a family-owned flower shop down the road. Maybe she’s made a friend, or someone to boast to, who knows?”
Silence. The Princess blinked, then cleared her throat.
“Was that too much? I’m sorry. I’m rather fond of my subjects.”
“Oh, it’s alright. I understand,” Cadenza said, with a half-smile. “I like my village too. I could tell you all about them.” She paused, catching onto a word. “You have a student?”
“I do,” said the Princess, and here Cadenza took note of the twinkle in her eyes, “and she’s a very clever student too…”
Her voice trailed off, dissipating into the gentle breeze.
“Princess?”
“I… I’m sorry, you see,” said the Princess, looking out towards the open doorway. “All this must be an awful lot for you to take in, and…”
A shadow fell upon her face. For a moment, Cadenza thought she looked as old as she truly was.
The Princess shook her head. “I thought I knew everything. I thought I’d be waiting forever. I thought that I had everything I needed and– there I go again. Chasing threads from the past.”
“You’ve told me about the Princess of the Moon,” Cadenza reminded her. “That… that I’m born from her line. That we are family.”
“Family. Such a simple word. But now that I have met you, is it really so simple Cadenza?” The Princess breathed out a sigh. “To know that I have kin, after hundreds of Winters of waiting, it’s almost everything I’ve always wanted.”
She let out a joyless chuckle, her tranquil smile turned to one of defeat.
“Now I look upon Florentina and their joy for you, and I realise now that I’ll be taking you away from your own family. It’s good to see you are cherished, and never so alone as I am, Mi Amore. Live well.”
Alone. The word echoed, and stung. Being alone was difficult to imagine. All of Florentina had taken it upon themselves to raise her, and never was she ever alone again, not since Nonna had found her in the forest.
It was the enchantress Prismia, she remembered, who’d been alone. A traveller, come to take the joyous spirit of Florentina away, when she could not find any in her own heart.
But above all, Cadenza remembered how lonely Prismia had been. A small part of her wished that the traveller had left more than that eerie Amulet of hers behind, once she’d at last gotten Prismia to take it off and lift the dreary spell cast over the village.
‘You’re hurting, aren’t you?’ she had asked out into the cold evening at the end of Winter, when she could not find a single trace of the enchantress. ‘I don’t know your story. But I hope it has a happy ending.’
The Princess was no wicked enchantress. She was beloved and cherished by a nation. The shining beacon all of Equestria looked to for guidance, a light in the dark like no other pony could be.
Now, the mare beneath the porcelain smile struck Cadenza as the loneliest of all.
Celestia stood up, dusting herself off. She gave Cadenza a respectful nod. But no words came from her, even as the mask cracked.
She went on her way, quiet as a shade.
“Wait, wait! Princess Celestia?” Cadenza exclaimed. Celestia paused in her steps, just as she was to close the door behind her.
“Yes?”
Old anxieties returned, for the briefest of moments. She’d be leaving all that she knew behind. Yet Mi Amore Cadenza stood firm in her resolve, as she hopped off the bench and looked into Celestia’s eyes, with the kindest smile she could muster.
“I’ll go with you,” said Cadenza. “No one should ever feel so alone.”
It was all she could say, before the Princess of the Sun, all decorum cast aside, strode towards her and pulled her into a tight, warm hug.
* * * * *
It all felt like a dream.
Perhaps it was for her, Cadenza concluded. Dreams were her realm, too. Yet how could it be one, when all of it was so vivid to her senses.
Collecting her belongings for departure had been easy. Leaving was not. Nonna Espina’s reassurances that this was what was meant for her, and that she was destined for far more than this humble village, gave Cadenza the strength and will she needed.
And so amidst tears of joy and well-wishes, Cadenza departed in the company of Celestia and her Guards. The sky-boat – that’s what Celestia told her it was – departed just slowly enough for Cadenza to wave goodbye at all her friends and family, until the clouds hid them from view.
Next came the trip. The feeling of the wind blowing against her feathers, so very enticing, exhilarating. She felt like she ought to jump off, take flight under her own power. She hadn’t had much chance to do so in the days following her ascension.
But that wouldn’t be polite. Celestia had plenty of stories to share, she could tell, and it would be rude to leave her by her lonesome.
So they shared in their stories. Celestia related stories of ancient times, from the Pillars of Equestria, legendary heroes who’d helped build Equestria as they knew it, to old myths of Centaurs and rainbow bridges.
Cadenza, feeling inadequate, told her quiet tales from her little village, how Benna’s parents had first met, to how Radice had gained his mayoralty, and even how she saw the dreams of her fellow villagers and walked between them.
That last one perked Celestia’s attention most of all, Cadenza could tell. Celestia’s ears had flicked, and there was a slight tilt of her head. But she said nothing of it, and seemed quite interested in all the others, even asking Cadenza to retell some, down to the tiniest details. She wasted no time either in assuring Cadenza that her Equish was just fine, and that Radice had taught her well.
That felt nice, Cadenza decided. So they continued with their stories, long into the night and the week that followed.
And come the seventh day, the clouds parted to reveal Canterlot. Cadenza hadn’t expected to see it that morning, so busy she was in stretching her wings, until she turned around in time to catch sight of the great Canterhorn, and the ivory towers of Canterlot Palace.
What a sight it was.
Pegasi flew in and out of the city, weaving flight-trails around the buildings. Sky-boats and airships of all sizes and designs were docked in the city’s skyports. Waterfalls streamed down from the city’s walls, down to the green, verdant valley below. Wherever she looked, Cadenza saw grandeur and beauty and grace, and few words she could think of could describe the overwhelming sense of awe she felt right then and there.
So captivated was she, that she might have plummeted were it not for Captain Fields holding onto her. He didn’t mind it, though. He’d have done the same, he told her, amidst her apologies.
The sky-boat descended soon after. To her disappointment, they chose to bypass the voluminous public skyport. She wanted to see all the sights she could see, to walk amongst the people and gaze in awe at the city all around her.
That was before they landed at the Palace. Five, ten, maybe even twenty times the size of Florentina. The gardens, from what she could see from the air, had to be larger than both Nonna Espina’s greenhouse and home, with a hundred more different flowers. The ivory towers of the palace must have stood taller than the tallest buildings in all of Oleander.
And here, in the entrance hall in which she stood, hanging tapestries all around, exquisitely polished marble beneath her hooves, it all felt so much older than anything she’d seen before.
So much to see, Cadenza thought, barely containing a smile of glee. What were the people like? How did they cook? Where did they even sleep?
Questions that Celestia could have answered. Unfortunately, it hadn’t taken long for someone to take her away from them, for no sooner than had they entered the entrance hall, did Celestia excuse herself to meet with the angriest pony Cadenza had ever seen.
Well, perhaps that was a little rude. The unicorn filly looked to be her age, and rather pretty at that, though it was all spoiled by her scowl. What Cadenza had taken for burning, fiery anger turned out to be the filly’s fiery orange-and-red fur and mane.
Still, the filly was certainly very cross, given the sparks that crackled from her horn.
Before Cadenza could greet her, she was ushered out by a moustachioed stallion as old as Benna’s father was, and so she sadly left Celestia to her fate.
Kibitz was his name, she soon learned.
“I’m terribly sorry about that,” said Kibitz, adjusting his monocle. “Miss Shimmer can be… quite, well, assertive.”
“Oh, no no, it’s not your fault, Mister Kibitz, don’t worry,” said Cadenza, curtseying for a second, just as Celestia had taught her onboard. Kibitz raised an eyebrow at the display, but said nothing. “I shan’t be a burden for her, too.”
“On the contrary, Miss Amore,” said Kibitz, nodding, “we are honoured to have you here. Princess Celestia has requested that I tend to your requests, should you have any, as well as your tutoring.”
Tutoring. So very formal. In all thirteen years of her life, though the village imparted their knowledge onto her, never had there been anyone there only to teach her.
It was almost too much.
Before Cadenza could speak up, Kibitz withdrew a scroll from within his jacket. Unfurled, it stretched all the way across the carpet.
“Now, according to your schedule, we should be over inspecting your room. Your belongings are still being sorted out–”
Cadenza cleared her throat.
“Actually, um… Mister Kibitz?” asked Cadenza. Kibitz looked at her, with a raised eyebrow. “Pardon my interruption but…”
Breathe. In, and out. As she drew another calming breath, Cadenza glanced out the window. Spring had just begun, and so the flowers bloomed in all their beauty.
She wondered how Nonna’s flowers fared, back home.
“Could you– could you show me the gardens? Nonna Espina, my, um, my caretaker had one, and it’s very lovely. I’d like to see the Princess’ garden, too.”
Kibitz furrowed his brows, the quill he brought frozen mid-air in his aura. Then, with a flick of his horn, the scroll was rolled back and withdrawn into his jacket.
“Oh, very well. I suppose we can move it up the schedule. Come along, Miss Amore,” said Kibitz, his formal tone easing. “if you would follow me, they are just down this way.” His lips curled into a tiny smile. “If you’d like, I could introduce you to the gardener as well.”
It would be a long, long stay, Cadenza knew. But not a lonely one. With a relieved smile, down the hall she went with him, as the Sun outside began to set.
Perhaps this could be home after all.
Author's Note
A/N:
Wrote Cadance’s arrival to this music, heh.
This story is set in the same continuity as In Night's Garden.
While this is mostly canon compliant, the big change in familial relationships here, mind, is that Radiant Hope is Amore’s daughter instead of being an orphan. I guess she just wanted to hang out with other kids when she visited Sombra’s orphanage.
The story is written as a palindrome. That is to say, it starts and ends in the same place, with the same amount of scenes for Cadance and Celestia, hehe. If you’ve noticed that, yay!
