Always Tip Your Speechwriter
“Honored…morons…”
Luna spoke each word through gritted teeth as she wrote, her quill flitting back and forth across the page with the force expected of a pony who had hit her irritation threshold more than an hour prior.
“Thank you so very much for inviting me to your trite celebration,” she continued. Her eyes were staring into the distance, boring a hole in a convenient armoire with their gaze.
“Truly, tis the privilege of royalty to attend so many meaningless parties as an honored guest. We greatly enjoy such frivolities, and encourage you to continue extending such invitations where possible, to waste even more of our precious time.”
Sighing, she set the quill down, picking up the paper and crumpling it with her magic before tossing it into the fire.
The ponies she was supposed to give the speech to didn’t deserve her rancor. Yes, many of the nobility could be air-headed, and some of them only participated in the cause for the benefit of their social standing, but there were good ponies that would be present at the dinner.
There was also the matter of how displeased Celestia would be. Being the big sister meant that the Sun Princess had considerable talent for guilt trips and side eyes, and the thought of months of those was sufficient to dissuade any lingering temptation Luna might have still felt.
“Attempt twenty-eight,” she muttered, pulling a fresh parchment from the top drawer of her desk.
She knew that, if she could swallow her pride long enough to reach out to them, Celestia or Twilight would be happy to help her write this speech. Celestia herself had spoken to the Guardians of the Sacred Cradle just a few years prior, and would no doubt know exactly what to say.
But admitting that she had lied to them when she’d said that the speech was ‘coming along just fine’ wasn’t something she wanted to do.
“Honored guests,” she started again, before stopping. “Oh, this is hopeless.”
Fortunately for Luna, there was another option.
“You asked for me?”
“I did,” Luna replied. “Please, have a seat.”
Shady Crescent was Luna’s latest personal secretary. While the first two that Celestia had sent hadn’t been up to the task of coping with Luna’s schedule and habits, Shady had proven more than able in all respects.
That she got along with the mercurial mare - and even had the gumption to push back when appropriate – was a nice bonus.
“The speech?” Shady guessed.
“The speech,” Luna confirmed. “I’m also going to need a fresh stack of parchment, when you have time.”
“I’ll send the Guard to the Everfree posthaste. They should be able to clear a quarter of it for speech attempts before the end of the week.”
“Very funny.” The princess sighed. “I don’t know what to say to them that won’t sound trite.”
“With respect, Princess, why can’t it be trite? It’s an annual dinner for rich snobs and airheads. They don’t expect it to be anything more than a few polite words.”
“Because I can’t do trite. I hate it. If you’re going to say something, it should be meaningful.”
The other pony smiled. “So, why can’t you just write something meaningful?”
Sighing, Luna slumped back in her chair. “Because the people I’ll be speaking to are the very embodiment of trite.”
“And we come full circle,” Shady replied. “This is why Princess Celestia has a speechwriter for these sorts of events. I could ask if Fast Copy is available to whip something up for you.”
“No!” Luna quickly replied, bringing one hoof down on her desk with a light tap. “No, thank you,” she repeated, taking care to use a gentle tone. “I will write the speech myself, as I said I would. I just need to find some tack to take, which is why I asked you here.”
Shady nodded. “All right, let me hear what you have.”
The next hour passed slowly, and without progress beyond a few more crumpled parchments and frayed nerves.
“I really think you should just ask Fast Copy to write you a speech,” Shady said. “You can make a few changes after he’s done, so long as you don’t tell him you did so. He gets rather possessive about his work. I was afraid he was going to need to be hospitalized after Cadance re-wrote one of his paragraphs last year.”
“I appreciate your persistence in this matter, but I’m still committed,” Luna replied, a touch more firmly this time.
“Then, I suppose there’s not much else for me do to other than to leave you to write it.” The pegasus stood, stretching her wings. “If you don’t want to ask for help here, would Princess Twilight be an acceptable alternative?”
If she had to confess to one of the two, Twilight was the preferable alternative. Bracing herself for the ribbing that was sure to result, Luna grimaced before nodding. “I’ll see what ideas she has.”
One of the benefits of dating the most magically curious mare in Equestria – who had possibly the most magically inventive mare as her apprentice - was encountering wildly creative applications of said magic. Given the constraints on their time, and to save Spike the extraordinary message load that was sure to result when Twilight and Luna conversed regularly, Twilight had come up with a pair of enchanted parchments that were linked to allow messages to be sent from one pony to another.
“Do you have a few moments?” Luna wrote.
The answer wasn’t long in coming. Sure, anything for you. What’s up?
“Remember that speech I was supposed to give?”
The one for the charity? The one you said was done?
Luna couldn’t help but snort. Twilight had her good and pegged. “Yes, that one.”
How much do you have done?
“How much do you think?” Luna replied. “Do you have any ideas?”
Twilight’s answer took a little while to come. One limitation of the parchment was that there was, as yet, no erase function, and once her reply arrived it was clear Twilight was thinking quickly.
A variety, but I’m not very good at speechwriting myself. Are you sure youMaybe you could Okay, I asked Cadance, in a vague enough way, and she says that one trick she’s always used is to write the speech for somepony in the audience that she considers a friend.
“Hmm…” Luna said aloud. She wrote, “The idea has merit. Does that mean you’ll be at the event tomorrow?”
I wasn’t invited.
Luna chuckled. “Princesses don’t need invitations. You show up, and they’ll be falling all over themselves to give you a seat.”
I think I have something with Rarity tomorrow.
“Avoiding the nobility already? I can’t say I blame you.”
Really, she did ask me to model some new dresses for her. But, I will admit I may have taken the invitation as a reason not to go to the dinner. You know how much I hate feeling like I’m on display.
Luna could appreciate that last part. “Okay, so I guess I’ll just have to think of somepony else who’s a friend that I could write to. It’s a long list, so it will take me hours, I’m sure.”
Isn’t Fleur going to be there?
“That’s…have I told you how much I love you?”
A few times, but a mare never minds hearing it again. Let me know if you need anything else.
“I would like to thank all of you for the warm welcome you have extended to me tonight.” Luna paused, to allow the ponies time to applaud. That was another feature of her position – ponies applauding her every move. The cynical part of her mind wondered whether they would applaud her on the toilet, given the opportunity.
Sitting at one of the tables closest to the podium was Fleur de Lis, one of Luna’s few friends. She was wearing an elegant dress – a Rarity, Luna suspected – though it was outshone by the smile on her face.
Smiling back at her friend, Luna took a steady breath, blinked a few times to clear her vision, and started to read.
