Princess Celestia Really Likes Hair Dyes
Princess Celestia Really Likes Hair Dyes
“Sister, may I ask you something?”
It had perhaps taken a little over two months since they had settled at Seaward Shoals for Luna to take notice of her dyes, Celestia mused. At least, that was her personal estimate.
Setting down her hoof from her partially recoloured mane, Celestia glanced at Luna. Her sister had just gotten off work, still half-clad head to hoof in her postmare uniform. It certainly hadn’t taken long for Luna to apply for work at the post office, having sought some form of labour to put off her post-retirement boredom outside of gardening and astronomy.
“Yes, Luna?”
“Is all this truly necessary?” Luna said, with a wave of her forehoof. Celestia looked around, taking in the sights of the various hair dyes neatly arranged within the bathroom, of all shades of the rainbow.
“Oh, of course! I do so love my varieties, Luna,” said Celestia, holding back a giggle. “Yellow’s always fun to do.” She flicked her half-yellow mane for emphasis. “And don’t you worry about the budget. My royalty check just came in– Heh, royalty. The new storybook’s a Canterlot Times bestseller already, so they told me, another hit from good old Sunny Skies.”
“Yes, but see,” said Luna, “I think spending all of it on hair dye isn’t the wisest of investments…”
“Come now, Sister,” said Celestia, feeling the corner of her mouth twitch. “I never bother you about all the flowers you send Twilight.”
The sight of Luna’s freckles darkening brought out a guffaw from Celestia. Her former student’s quiet little long-distance relationship with Luna had been such a joy to poke at.
“T-that’s hardly fair!” Luna whined. “She adores them, I– Tia!”
“Okay, okay, I suppose that was a low blow, sorry.”
Luna harrumphed. “I don’t get it. You didn’t like the makeover during that one vacation.”
“It wasn’t my colour, but I do appreciate the sentiment,” Celestia replied, tapping a nearby bottle of purple dye. “See? I’ve got the exact shade right here, just for you.”
“I’m merely curious,” Luna said with a sigh. “You adored that youthful pink mane of yours, and after I came back, I had at first assumed your new rainbow colouration was dye. Fancy that should just be plain alicorn magic… Besides, the stuff doesn’t last, does it?”
That was true, Celestia conceded. Her dyes had never lasted more than a day – unless she chose to wear her disguise as the pegasus author Sunny Skies. Even then, it would all burn away once she’d reverted to her alicorn form.
“I suppose that’s true. Regrettably, though it’s futile, it is what it is. But you know, Luna? You’re not the first one to tell me that.”
Her sister assessed her inquisitively. “Of course I’m not. So, why hair dyes, Tia?”
* * * * *
“… A play?” Twilight had repeated. “You dyed your mane for a play?”
Celestia lifted the cucumber over her left eye and glanced over at her once-student. Wrapped in a warm, fluffy white towel, Twilight was laying on her side, giving her a curious stare. Celestia let out a hearty chuckle. Different as she was now, some things never did change.
“Mhm! Of course I did. What else could it have been?”
“Oh nothing, nothing,” said Twilight. She bit her lips, glancing over at the stylist tending to Celestia’s unadorned mane. A nagging feeling told Celestia that maybe blue wasn’t her colour after all, judging from Twilight’s furrowed brows. Dyes could be so fickle. “It’s just that… hmm…”
“Were you expecting something more fanciful, hm?”
Twilight opened her mouth to retort, yet no words were uttered. She sighed.
“Well. You got me,” she said, shrugging. “I’m just… you know, curious. Do you dye your mane or…?”
“At the moment? Why yes, Twilight, yes I do,” Celestia answered, smirking.
“That’s not what I–” Twilight retorted, before holding a hoof to her forehead. “I mean– I know that storybook showed your mane as pink before Luna’s banishment, and now it isn’t. So I’m wondering if there’s a gap in the historical records or something. Did you change your mane all the time back then?”
“Rest assured, I don’t dye it all the time. Not anymore, at least. Besides, I have got a very simple reason to be dyeing my mane.”
Twilight leaned in closer, her eyes wide. “Yes…?”
Celestia looked left and right with a conspiratorial glance. She leaned closer still to Twilight, a hoof over her mouth, and whispered very carefully; “I like it.”
“Huh,” Twilight said, rubbing her chin. “That’s it?”
“Yep!” Celestia replied, leaning back against her seat with a gleeful smirk. “Sunflower yellow especially. It’s a lovely shade.”
“… I don’t know what I was expecting.”
“It’s best to temper one’s expectations, my friend,” said Celestia, patting Twilight. “Though I am partial to light blue. Hm, care for some dye, by the way? I’ve got a few at Canterlot Palace. Too much for a single mare, you know, I’ll admit that.”
“No thanks, heh, I’m, I’m fine with just the styling,” said Twilight. She cleared her throat. “Well, uh, Princess Celestia–”
“Just Celestia, Twilight, no need to be so formal in a spa,” Celestia replied. “Let alone your favourite.”
“Okay, okay, sorry, force of habit.” Another pause. “Listen, um… I’m, sorry, by the way. For the…”
Celestia moved to pat her shoulder. “It’s quite alright. You were sparing my feelings, and I can understand that. If anything, I’d love to help in writing the plays, get the details just right.”
“You would?” Twilight said, her ears flicking. “Oh, that’s great! See, Ocellus had this idea for a follow-up play, and she’s got Gallus to help, and I got Luna onboard too, but if you could also help, that’d really make their day.”
“Oh, do tell, do tell...”
With little else to do, Celestia leaned back and listened blissfully, long into the evening.
* * * * *
“Hey Mom?”
It was a little too early for anything to be said, Celestia thought. Usually, at this late hour, even when they shared study space in her own bedroom, her adoptive daughter had found simple contentment in the quiet and diligent pursuit of her studies.
Had.
Celestia looked up from the storybook she was currently penning, in the middle of writing a particularly sweet sentence she’d just figured out. She set down her quill. “Yes, Sunset?”
Sunset closed her tome and looked at her, frowning. “Why do you dye your mane? You taught me how to, what’s the word, ‘invest in the right sectors’ when ruling.”
“Of course,” Celestia answered, smiling. “You’re a fast learner.”
“Yeah. So what’s up with all the hair dye?”
Always so direct, her Sunset, even compared to other children her age. Still, no harm in answering.
“I just do, I suppose,” said Celestia. She ran a forehoof through her mane as she said so, the multi-coloured shade having been replaced by a pleasant lime green. “And it’s pretty. Here I thought you, of all ponies, would like green, Sunset.”
“Yeah, I do. But your mane, it’s just fine the way it is,” Sunset persisted. “And nopony else has a mane like yours. The stuff goes away at the end of the day anyway– I saw it all burn away the other day! So what’s the point?”
“That I can then try on another shade. And another the day after. Variety’s always nice.”
“Stars, you’re so weird sometimes.” Sunset sighed. “But don’t make me dye mine. I’m okay with it, and Cadance said it was okay, so there.”
“What, this pretty little fiery mane?”
Before Sunset could object, Celestia had already reached out and ruffled her daughter’s mane, laughing all the while as Sunset pushed her hoof away.
“Mooom,” the filly groaned. “Stop it. I’m not ten anymore, I’m fourteen. What if Cadance sees?”
Celestia let out a melodious laugh. “Oh, Sunset… Have you finished your homework, dear?”
Sunset grumbled and huffed, and returned to her tome, on a page about a rather complicated spell theorem. Without a word exchanged, Celestia scooched over and draped a comforting wing over the filly’s withers.
* * * * *
“… The painting commemorating the Year 517 Treaty with Queen Phantasma of the Changelings, and approximately twenty-five bottles of hair dye from the court of Saddle Mareabia, to conclude the report of Year 970, Anno Solaris.”
Celestia nodded along, as her newest advisor rolled up the scroll. She offered him a kind smile. “Thank you, um, Kibitz, that should be all for today.”
Such an odd name ought to make him easier to recall in the long list of ponies who’d been her advisor, Celestia mused. Although his bushy brown moustache certainly helped distinguish him as well.
Kibitz gave her a firm nod. “Very well, Your Highness. I shall take my leave for the day.”
But something about his stiff gait and a hesitant glint in his eyes caught Celestia’s gaze. “Oh, is something the matter?”
“N-nothing, nothing’s wrong, pardon,” said Kibitz, though his stammer told Celestia otherwise.
“Hmm,” she said. “Tell me, how have these first four months been treating you?”
“Quite well, no doubt! Uncle had spoken very highly of working under you. But…”
“But…?”
“The, uh, shipments. Of dye. They, ah, that is to say, it seems to have taken a chunk out of the budget for the month, ending–”
Celestia raised a forehoof. “That’s quite alright. Where the dyes are concerned, I have my own savings set aside. Rest assured, I’m not using the state treasury on my personal expenditures.”
“Ah. If I may… well, I don’t quite understand. Pardon my forwardness.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Kibitz. Ask away.”
“Right. Well, I am curious, you see. Why… why the large amount? Your mane is rather...”
“Yes?”
“Colourful. My apolo–”
Celestia laughed. “Oh, don’t apologise for that now,” she said. She flicked her red-shaded mane aside. “If red isn’t my colour, you should say so!”
“Well, ahem, red is quite alright. It oddly fits you. ” Kibitz said. “But I ought to ask the gentry not to bring it up, if it would help.”
“The gentry are entitled to their opinion. Just as I have my right to keep my mane this way. It always fades away at the end of the day– but until then, I enjoy seeing them struggle to phrase their objection over whichever shade I pick.”
“I see, Your Highness,” said Kibitz, a touch unsure.
Celestia’s eyes drifted towards his moustache, and his youthful look beneath it. He couldn’t have been more than twenty-eight. Or thirty, or even thirty-five. The youth of today can be very ambitious indeed.
“Hmm, Kibitz? Have you been receiving any, shall we say, pressure from the gentry yourself? They tend to be rather tough on the staff…”
A drop of sweat slid down Kibitz’s brow. Celestia let out a mirthful, understanding chuckle.
“Well, take my advice with a grain of salt, Kibitz, but… I could offer you some of my gray dye if it helps.” She winked at him. “You know how gentryfolk are about seniority. It changes their attitude, particularly towards household staff.”
Kibitz raised an eyebrow. “I… Well, I shall give that due consideration, ma’am…”
“Indeed. Now, have a good night. We’ve got a meeting in two days.”
“Aye, I’ll be right on that soon. Good night, Your Highness.”
* * * * *
As far as meetings went, Celestia mused, this one went as smoothly as she could have hoped. Apart from a curious glance or two at her purple mane and some whispers behind her back, it could have been any other ordinary diplomatic meeting were it not for their present guests.
Such a rare sight indeed to see Changelings out of their disguises.
“Queen Phantasma would like to relay her most sincere gratitude Lady Celestia,” said the shrunken Changeling scribe, bowing as deeply as his decrepit old hooves allowed him to, “for your most gracious acceptance of her terms.”
Never mind that said ‘terms’ were hardly even terms, merely a guarantee of no reprisals whatsoever.
He’d spoken it so easily, here in the heart of Equestria itself with the Changelings’ contingent outnumbered five to one. Not a fortnight ago, one of their own had attempted to seize control of her mind using a potent parasite of the Pearl Hive… With naturally grisly results, once the parasite had made contact with her alicorn blood.
The lingering smell in her bedchambers was evidence enough, as was the rather embarrassed spy. Whom now had returned to Phantasma’s side, looking quite ashamed of himself – or perhaps fearful of his Queen’s wrath.
Yet Celestia just about held on to her mask, wearing a smile as placid as she could manage. “You are very much welcome,” she said. “Do tell Phantasma that I thank her for smooth negotiations.”
Her advisors had spoken as one against allowing Phantasma and her retinue into the Palace to answer her summons. But no harm would come to the Changelings, any more than to Celestia. Across from her, Queen Phantasma peered through half-moon spectacles, with an expression kept unreadable. That is, until she cleared her throat to speak.
“My, I do believe that some courtesy is in order for such a generous ruler,” she said. Her retinue buzzed in agreement. “My, uh, informant– he told me of your fondness for hair dyes? I must say, you’ve got quite the lovely taste in colours.”
Celestia raised an eyebrow.
“Princess, if I may speak up,” spoke up Captain Centurio, flanking her, “I do not think we should entertain this Queen further.”
“It’s quite alright, Captain,” said Celestia. The pegasus captain nodded, then returned her gaze to the retinue opposite them.
Still, Celestia could hardly fault the Changelings themselves. Her purple mane drifted in the ethereal breeze, which must have caught the attention of any and all Changelings. She looked evenly at Phantasma.
“Thank you, and yes, I am indeed rather fond of dyes, Queen Phantasma. What of it?”
Phantasma let out a cackle. “Five hundred years on, and you still can’t decide on a shade,” she said, adjusting her glasses. “Perhaps we ought to offer you our brand of shapeshifting magic, hm?”
Before Celestia’s eyes, the Queen’s mane turned into an identical shade of purple as hers, before shifting back to its original green.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” said Celestia, “but I would have appreciated the offer if it came before the plotting or the attempt.”
“Oh, you’re no fun,” Phantasma sneered. “Here I thought you’d want to reduce that excessive spending. You could have used it on training better guards!”
Laughter rose from the Changelings. Lieutenant Steelsong stepped forward, yet Celestia halted him with a raised wing.
“What I do with my personal income, Phantasma,” said Celestia as steadily as she could, “is neither the concern of the Exchequer, nor yours.”
“That’s Oleandrite purple you’re wearing. Feeling a bit vain are we now, Tia?” Phantasma scoffed. “All that dye through the years must’ve rotted your brains out!”
More laughter. Phantasma’s smirk grew into a vicious grin. Before either Centurio or anyone else could speak up, however, Celestia’s mane had already been set alight with a bright yellow flash.
Not a soul dared to move, their brief yelps and shouts quieted as the flames spread through Celestia’s vibrant mane. Her horn was alight, her gaze narrow and withering, as the spell did its work.
When the last embers of the dye burned away, Celestia sat back down, her mane as resplendent and graceful as it ever was in all its myriad colours. Not once from start to finish did she avert her intensifying glare from meeting Phantasma eye-to-eye, piercing through her glasses. The Queen’s eyes were wide as saucers, her prideful smirk wiped clean off her face.
Celestia, gritting her teeth without letting it show, nodded to the advisor nearest to her. “Right, then. Now that’s settled, shall we continue?”
* * * * *
“Your Highness? Is everything alright?”
The withered old voice of her advisor streamed into Celestia’s mind, interrupting her mirror-gazing. Tearing her eyes away from the eye-sore that was her mane, she looked at him with a smile as regally graceful as she could muster.
“I’m sorry, Greyhoof,” she said. “I’ve had much to think about.”
The elderly earthpony, grey as his name, inclined his head. “As you do, Your Highness. It has been an eventful year.” A short pause. “And an eventful week. I apologise. Captain Ironhoof can be… quite enthusiastic, when it comes to singing praises.”
“If grovelling is what you call ‘enthusiastic’,” Celestia deadpanned. The Captain had indeed grovelled as well as he could, paying her compliment after compliment for a job well done in the days gone by. Starting, to her great chagrin, with her mane. Her colourful, awe-inspiring, hideous mane.
He wouldn’t understand. Few ever would. It was a mane many would envy, yet only she would resent.
Celestia’s frown disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared, and she shared a merry laugh with Greyhoof. “Oh, there is nothing to apologise for, my friend. If any, I should apologise. I can’t imagine how busy you must have been as well.”
Greyhoof let out a sigh. “Nothing in comparison to your days, Your Highness. And for that, you have my utmost condolences.”
Her smile faded. “Yes,” she agreed, “I suppose…”
“Ma’am?”
Celestia returned her gaze to the mirror. For as long as she could remember, staring at her reflection had meant staring into the image of her seen by Equestria, Princess Celestia with her glorious flowing pink mane. The Princess of the Sun, with company at her side. Company that was here no longer.
It was the will of Harmony, the court mages had told her. In that fraction of a second, as she wielded all six of the Elements of Harmony, she’d channelled their might through her veins and embodied Harmony itself.
When all was said and done, what the elements had left behind were the shattered remains of gemstones, and a stain on her very person. A stain, in the form of the new colours that shimmered and gleamed within her mane.
With the Mare in the Moon now looming overhead, there’d been nothing left she could do.
“Everytime I see myself reflected in mirror,” Celestia whispered, “I see these– these awful shades. I relive that night over and over again so vividly, as fate’s cruel reminder.“
She let out a bitter laugh, glancing at Greyhoof. “And I deserve it. What good is the nation’s adulation, when she isn’t there by my side, she who needed their love more than I ever did...”
Tears welling up, she tore her gaze away once more. But then she felt a warm touch upon her shoulder.
“If I may, ma’am,” Greyhoof said, his voice soft and tender, “It’s a paltry offer to make, but… perhaps a little bit of dye could help.”
Celestia felt her eyebrow raise. “Dye?”
“Yes, um, my granddaughter, she’s rather fond of it herself,” said Greyhoof, clearing his throat. “Every Hearthswarming she’ll ask for dyes, and the Reindeer always provide. She likes pink, you see.”
“Pink? Why pink?”
“I think you might have an idea of that, Your Highness,” Greyhoof answered, eyes darting towards a hanging strand of Celestia’s own mane.
Celestia let out a chuckle, running her hooves through her flowing mane. “I don’t know. It would seem rather vain of me.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. You have been kind to us all for so long, Princess Celestia. It would only be fair that you show yourself some of that kindness.”
When Celestia looked away from the mirror and into his eyes, she saw the hints of an affection that only Luna could have given to her without reserve.
“Thank you, Greyhoof…” said Celestia. “I’ll… well, I see no harm in your proposal. Especially if it might make your granddaughter’s day.”
“It’s no trouble,” Greyhoof replied crisply, though he could do little to hide his glee. “If you wish, I could help in applying it. I’ve had plenty of experience, as you can imagine.”
Celestia smiled a smile to match his own. “No need for that, my friend. You need your rest. I believe that I shall manage just fine…”
* * * * *
“Well, Sister?”
Celestia turned her gaze to Luna.
They were back here at Seaward Shoals. She softened her smile, and if her eyes were wet, surely that was from the salty air of the seaside.
“Okay, Luna,” said Celestia, “I will tell you.”
Author's Note
Just a silly little thing I wanted to write, after a rather infuriating semester.
I always thought it was curious how Celestia had a multicoloured mane, and Luna did not. And here we are, heh.
Disregards the Season 4 depiction of Celestia's mane in the past, because let's be honest, we all prefer Pinklestia. I also took cues from Lullaby for a Princess's version of events, which is also honestly better than canon;
The characters of Greyhoof and Ironhoof comes from Bad_Seed_72's phenomenal works, The Order and What Hath Joined Together. Though forever unfinished, highly recommended if only because of how utterly frustratingly brilliant and heartbreaking they both are! May Bad_Seed be alright, wherever she is now.
