Everything is a Teachable Moment!
“She’s a hellion, Raven. An absolute hellion.”
“She’s not a hellion, your majesty. A hellion was a six-legged four-winged infernal spawn of Tartarus that invaded in four seventy-six. You killed all the hellions.”
Celestia and Raven paced down the hallway of the palace, the princess taking what felt like baby steps as to not outpace her eternally-present seneschal.
“Then I missed one, Raven, or, barring that, she’s a parasprite in a pony costume, but whatever she is I’m at the end of my rope, because everything I try seems to end up in catastrophic failure.” Celestia held up a wing, unfurling primaries as she rattled off instances. “I tried public school but the teachers wouldn’t stop worshiping her, I tried play-groups with the guards’ foals but she refused to participate in any game that didn’t have her in charge, I tried tutors but she just won’t learn, and now she will barely even talk to me!” She, giving up on counting, threw out her wings in despair. “I just don’t understand, Raven; I can govern an empire but I can’t raise a filly?”
“The state runs itself, your highness. Children do not.”
“The state does not run itself, Raven. You run the state, and you run yourself.” Celestia snorted a laugh. “And children are one thing, Raven; I have raised many foals. Cadance is quite another thing entirely.”
“Those foals weren’t alicorns either, princess.”
“That they were not, Raven. That they were not,” Celestia mused. “Of course, I wasn’t raising them today either; my last foal I raised was quite content to be raised almost solely by me, but then again we also spent most of our time sparring with wooden swords out in the courtyard in preparation for his knighting.”
“Well, there’s an idea, your highness.” Raven turned her head to her monarch, revealing a rare joke. “Perhaps you should go sparring with Cadance?”
“Hah!” Celestia chuckled. “Perhaps when she grows more confident with her horn, I will take up the wooden sword again.”
“Make sure to remind me; it’s been far too long since I’ve seen the conquering warlock I knew so long ago.” Raven cocked her head. “Do you think the old barding still fits? Gold always was your best color.”
“Oh, not a chance, Raven.” Celestia snorted a laugh. “The bakeries have seen to that.”
“Remind me to cut their sugar supply again then. I can’t have my liege in anything other than tip-top shape, can I?” Raven shook her head. “Regardless, we are in agreement about something, at least; you must find something with which to occupy little Cadance’s time, or you’re going to find her crudely vandalizing the walls behind the curtains.”
“Oh, pray tell, Raven.” Celestia turned to look at her secretary, eyes twinkling. “Wherever did you get that idea?”
Cadance might have been a princess, but she was also a freshly-marked little filly who was decidedly done with her stupid etiquette lessons, stupid hairdos and gowns, and especially done with her stupid no-good no-fun stuck-up meanie aunt.
As far as Cadance was concerned? If being a princess meant all this crap? Then she didn’t want to be a princess at all.
But, unfortunately, she couldn’t exactly take her wings off, so she settled for the next best option; vandalism, because what was a better way to show up her auntie than messing up these perfect marble walls?
As such, Cadance, with a mechanic’s pilfered screwdriver in mouth, was parked behind a luxuriant red curtain and was currently trying her hardest to mar Celestia’s always so perfect walls with the basest drawing she could think of – two circles, then a rectangle; the indomitable wiener. Cadance, in her unfortunately brief time at a Canterlot public school (she had performed great, but after a half-dozen miserable meetings with mewling teachers and a desperate Celestia virtually begging them to just treat the miniature princess at least vaguely like the other students her fed-up auntie had dragged her out the schools in disgust and threw her back at her stuffy tutors) hadn’t exactly figured out what the drawing was supposed to represent, but she did know that the teachers seemed to get really mad whenever a silly little colt (especially the goofy one with the blue mane) would draw it on the chalkboard with a sneaky field.
And if it could make teachers mad? Then it would make Celestia furious.
So engrossed in her vandalism was the intrepid little Cadenza that she failed to hear the falling of the world’s largest hooves heading up the hall behind her, nor the muted conversation between the hooves’ owner and another mare, probably her ever-faithful seneschal.
She did, however, notice the curtain behind her being drawn away, and she especially noticed the disapproving voice that seemed to thunder from heaven.
“Cadenza!”
Cadance, with a sinking feeling in her gut and the stolen screwdriver still in her teeth, turned around with agonizing slowness. Above her, towering, was none other than Celestia herself, flanked by her secretary and with head lowered towards the little princess as much as was comfortable – still a good head above.
“Cadance?” said Celestia with an admonishing scowl. “Would you like to explain to me what you are doing to my walls, little lady?”
“N-n-n–” Cadance spit out the screwdriver “–Nothing!”
“Really? Nothing? You often find yourself hanging around behind the curtains with a screwdriver?”
“I – I wasn’t hanging around! I was, um,” Cadance stammered, trying to thing of something, “just, um–”
“Just what, Cadance?” Celestia interrupted. “Because I think I have a good idea of what was going on behind the curtain, especially considering that I heard the scratching.”
“I wasn’t scratching–”
“You were, Cadance.” Celestia cut her off again. “Cadance, few things rile me up anymore, but dishonesty definitely does.” She shook her head. “So either step aside and let me inspect my wall, or I am going to pick you up and move you.”
Defiant, Cadance didn’t move.
With a sigh, Celestia’s horn lit, picking up the squirming little princess and pulling her away from her masterpiece, revealing the crudely etched drawing underneath.
“Oh, brother…” Raven rolled her eyes.
“Cadance!” Celestia, after an almost contained smirk, turned to the now still and defeated filly held aloft in her field. “Cadance, do you think this is appropriate behavior for any filly, much less a princess?”
“… I think it runs in the blood, actually,” mused Raven.
Celestia turned to her secretary and shushed her, a twinkle in her eye. “Not now, Raven!” she whispered. She swung her head back around to Cadance, re-affixing the stern look to her face. “Well, Cadance?”
“… No.” Cadance admitted. Suddenly filled with fire, she pointed with a hoof, pulling her head back up and locking eyes with her aunt in a belligerent gaze. “B-but I don’t care! I hate ‘appropriate behavior,’ and being a princess, and all of this! It’s boring and I don’t get to do anything!”
“Cadance–”
“No!” Cadance’s horn flashed in a rage-fueled surge; her magic, owing to her fairly recent acquisition of a horn in the first place, was pitifully weak, but it was enough to disrupt Celestia’ field, dropping her to the ground. Liberated from their bonds, Cadance’s wings sprung open. “I’m tired of all of this! I hate all of this! I don’t want to have to learn what a salad fork is, or how to use this–” she knocked a hoof into the offending appendage “–stupid horn, or why me having that and wings makes me so freaking important that I can’t go to school and have a normal life or talk to fillies my own age!” Cadance stamped a little hoof, tears flowing liberally. “I-I don’t want to be a princess! I don’t want to be like you! I just want to be a normal filly who goes to normal school and does dumb things like drawing w-wieners on the walls!”
The words “wieners on the walls” seemed to reverberate down the hallway. A guard poked his head around a pillar.
As the dust settled from the blowup, Celestia and Raven looked at each other; Raven with something like pained acceptance, Celestia with a mostly concealed smirk.
“In. The. Blood," Raven deadpanned.
“Hush, Raven. I’ll … handle this.” Celestia stepped back from the wall, beckoning to the guard with a wingtip. “Guard!”
The guard peeked around the pillar again.
“Guard, please escort Raven here to go see Cadance’s governess in the east wing, please?”
The guard obediently left his post, trotting spiritedly over to his monarch.
“Celestia,” murmured Raven, “Cadance’s governess isn’t in the east wing.”
“Yes, I know; but he doesn’t, and I need some alone time with the little despot.” Celestia patted Raven’s withers. “Have fun!”
Rolling her eyes, Raven allowed herself to be led away by the guard.
As soon as the guard led her out of earshot, Celestia turned to address Cadance, the little filly now thoroughly engrossed in post-tantrum panting. “Cadance? I am going to–”
“Nuh-uh!” Cadance interrupted, standing up and unfurling her wings for flight. “I don’t wanna hear it!” She took off into the air, making it a good fifteen strides away before a yellow field surrounded her tail, dragging her back through the air and back to a seated position in front of Celestia. “L-lemme go you big–”
“CADANCE!” Celestia let a little of the Royal Canterlot Voice slip in, not enough to crack the plaster, of course, but just enough to get a good thunderclap. “Cadance, you are not going to run away from me!”
Sufficiently cowed (the thunderclap always did the trick) and wide-eyed, Cadance nodded.
“Cadance, I am very disappointed in you, young lady.” Celestia shook her head. “Not only do I find you vandalizing my castle, but now you try and run from me? That is not how good fillies behave, Cadance!”
“B-b-bu–” Cadance stammered out.
“Yes, Cadance?”
“B-but I don’t wanna be a good filly!” Cadance sniffled. “I don’t wanna be a good little princess! I just wanna be Cadance!”
“Cadance, you–” a sigh, one borne from years of the same kind of heartache “–Cadance, I’m going to tell you something I've learned, okay? But I need you to listen.”
Cadance wiped her left eye, but remained silent.
“There we go.” Celestia wiped the other eye with a gentle wing. “Cadance, dear. I have been a princess since before there was an Equestria to be princess of. I have ruled alone for nine-hundred and eighty years, and, until you–” Celestia patted Cadance’s head affectionately “–came around I was completely alone in the world. Just one alicorn in a whole world of ponies who didn’t look like you.” She sat down onto her haunches, getting herself at least a little closer to Cadance. “In that time, Cadance, there was not a single day that went by where I didn’t think, at least once, that I wish I had been a normal pony.”
“R-really?” Cadance looked up at Celestia. That ever-present gentle smile had returned.
“Really. I love my little ponies, Cadance. I love ruling Equestria, protecting them from harm, and making their wishes come true. I love all the things I’ve seen in the world in the uncountable years I’ve been alive; all the ponies I’ve known and loved, all the wonderful artists and musicians and sculptors who’ve I seen make their masterpieces.” She drew Cadance into a hug, those big, soft, wonderful wings coming around. “And I especially love a wonderful little filly I met oh-so recently who proved to me that I don’t have to be alone. But every day I think about how I could have had a normal life, lived and died uncountable years ago in a hut with a stallion and foals who loved me and my sister at my side and never had to deal with things like etiquette and diplomacy.”
“B-but you couldn’t have!” Cadance, somewhat disturbed by the thought of her aunt’s mortality, snuggled in a little deeper. “I-if you did that, w-we would have never had Equestria!”
“You’re right, Cadance, and that’s the hard part.” Celestia retreated, retracting her wings. “Whether we like it or not, you and I are destined for great things, and that means that we can’t be normal, no matter how much we want to.”
“B-but–”
“I know, Cadance. I hate etiquette training as much as you do, but when you’re a princess everything you do matters. That includes, just as much as what you say, where you put your forks.”
Cadance, temporarily shocked out of her misery by the idea that perfect Celestia also had to go to etiquette training, cocked her head in confusion. “Wait, you have to do that to?”
“Oh yes, Cadance. What constitutes ‘polite’ has changed quite a lot in a thousand years. Can you believe that it used to be polite to belch at the table?” Celestia giggled, a twinkle in her eye. “I daresay that wouldn’t go over well today.”
Cadance giggled along, laughs falling off as the only two alicorns in the world locked eyes full of love.
A moment passed in comfortable silence.
Cadance broke it first, staring back down at her hooves. “I’m … sorry about telling you that I didn’t want to be like you.”
“Don’t apologize for that, Cadance.” Celestia lifted her jaw with a gentle forehoof. “I’ve never asked you to be me. Just Cadance is good enough.”
“Okay.” Cadance rubbed her forehooves together. “And I’m sorry about the, um, drawings…”
“Oh right! I almost forgot!” Celestia shook her head. “Step aside, little lady! I must inspect your handiwork.”
“N-no!” Cadance tried to position herself in front of her artwork only to find herself being drug yet again away from the wall. “Do-don’t look!”
“Oh, Cadance.” Celestia snorted a laugh. “Cadance, this is unacceptable.”
“Sorry!” Cadance shrunk away from Celestia’s seemingly lead-heavy gaze. “I wasn’t thinking about–”
“I mean look at this!” Celestia waved a hoof at the offending scratchings. “If you’re going to – wait, hang on a second, where did you get the idea anyway?”
“–Oh.” Cadance hadn’t been expecting that response. “I, um, learned at school.” Cadance continued to inspect the flooring. “The colts would do it on the board and the teacher would get mad.”
Celestia snorted a laugh. “Well, I suppose some things never change.” She inspected the drawing again. “Cadance, you don’t know what this really … represents, do you?
Cadance thought for a moment. She kinda-sorta knew what it was, she supposed. “…Colt parts, I guess? I just know it's rude.”
“More or less.” Celestia nodded, both understandably happy that her darling little filly hadn’t been corrupted (in the vaguest sense; Cadance and her peers were quite too young to be thinking about that) by a colt and now aware of the level of detail to go into when demonstrating the proper way to draw a willy. “Well, Cadance, if you’re going to vandalize my walls, you’re going to do it correctly.” Her horn lit, field surrounding a spot on the wall. “Observe!”
With a flash, the spot behind the curtain highlighted in yellow puffed into smoke, revealing a cleanly engraved and extremely simplistic (age-appropriate, even, insofar as it could be) wang upon the wall.
Cadance looked up at the drawing, mouth agape in shock at the sheer quality of wiener-producing wizardry she just witnessed. “…Wow.”
“Wow indeed, Cadance.” Celestia ran a hoof along her drawing. “Look! Clean lines, stealthy manifestation.” Celestia looked down at the little princess. “That, Cadance, is how one draws, as you so eloquently put it, wieners on my walls.”
“Wh-where’d you learn–” Cadance shook her head “–but they’re your walls! And you’re a princess!”
“A princess is a princess all the time, Cadance.” Celestia grinned at the filly. “But we still get to get up to nonsense every once in a while, so long as you’re sneaky.”
Cadance, suddenly inspired, reached to pick up the screwdriver in her teeth, only to find it swiftly spirited away by a magic field.
“Ah-tah-tah, Cadance!” Celestia shook her head sternly. “You have a horn; use it!”
“But auntie!”
“No ‘buts,’ Cadance! What have I told you?”
“Ugh.” Cadance grumbled, breaking into the phrase Celestia was so wont to use. “‘The Creator gave us the horn, the hoof, the wing; to not use our gifts is an insult indeed.”
“Correct, Cadance.” Celestia highlighted a section of the wall with her field. “Now, Cadance, if you want to leave, you are going to give me ten good ones. And horn only!”
“… Fine,” huffed Cadance. “I, ugh, can’t believe that you turned me drawing on the walls into another lesson.”
“The best lessons, Cadance, are those we don’t know we are being given.” Celestia clicked a hoof against the ground. “Now get to it!”
With a final grumble, Cadance’s horn lit, a simple engraving spell spooling to life.
Celestia watched as she set to making her first one. It wasn’t looking too bad, actually.
Maybe it was in the blood after all?
Author's Note
I got a very pleasant PM from one of my more shy followers remarking on how the previous story was, despite the main focus, actually pretty cute. I thought about that for a moment – how could I pivot the same idea into just the sweetest story about two characters I don't really write about?
Thus, this.
Cadance is S1 CMC age. Incidentally, there are sadly few stories about wittle Cadance. What a shame!
Also, yes, Raven is immortal. Immortal Raven is the best Raven.
