Who Wants to Live Forever?

by Coronet the lesser

Rating: everyone
Tags: Princess Celestia, Slice of Life, Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy, Romance
Length: 2471

Twilight asks Celestia an existential question during an unforgettable luncheon.

Twilight asks Celestia an existential question about legacy and immortality during an unforgettable luncheon.

Coverart is not owned by me, all credit of the cover art belongs magnaluna .

This is my entry for twelfth bimonthly twilestia contest.

Published 2022-06-15 21:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2022-06-15 21:50:01 UTC

1. Today is a gift, that is why it is called the present

“Celestia, are you immortal?”

Celestia, former reigning princess of Equestria, stopped chewing on what had been a delightful daisy sandwich. Her eyes shot across from the table towards her opposite number.

Twilight Sparkle, the sole ruling monarch of Equestria, something Celestia had yet to get used to, stared pensively at her with an expression she had seen a thousand times before. Yet, even after twenty years, Twilight still bore that filly-esque quality of intense innocent curiosity that made her character so endearing.

It was a casual sort of question. Spoken as mundanely as if it were a comment on the weather, its disarming tone was designed as a clever trap to draw the unwary into an existential discussion about topics that could befuddle a philosopher. Celestia was well aware of this pitfall. It had been used to significant effect against her in the past

She audibly gulped down the remainder of the sandwich in her mouth. She coughed as she cleared her throat.

“And where did this come from?”

Sadly her experience in avoiding Twilight’s leading questions was destined to fail, as it had a dozen times in the past. It was those eyes. Celestia was sure of it; too cute for measure.

“Just a thought,” Twilight sighed, gazing off to the side, poorly feigning that such a serious question as a passing thought and not something that had consumed Twilight’s entire waking moments in the lead-up to this very lunch. Celestia had a good hunch that the lunch itself was a ruse to talk about said ‘thought’.

A part of Celestia was almost disappointed. Twilight had brought her to a frankly delightful restaurant at one of Ponyville’s most popular luncheon spots near the river beneath a beautiful spring sun, warm enough to sit out but not enough to be uncomfortable.

Celestia sighed; there was no avoiding it, and to think she had been pleasantly enjoying Twilight’s company to herself for what seemed like the first time in weeks.

“A melancholic one,” Celestia snorted. She leaned back into her chair.

“I mean, it’s only natural. You know, with the whole Princess thing.” Twilight gestured with her hoof to emphasise his point. “So, you know? What’s the answer?” Celestia rolled her eyes and made sure Twilight saw her do so. The mare pouted, much to Celestia’s internal delight. Such cute little cheeks! How Twilight ever looked anything other than adorable while ruling the country, Celestia was unsure.

“I don’t know,” Celestia answered truthfully. Twilight frowned deeply. Ah, that would be the serious face, Celestia thought to herself.

“What do you mean you don’t know,” Twilight said with bewilderment. “You’ve been alive, well, for forever or at least longer than most recorded history. How can you possibly not know?” Celestia’s nose scrunched up in annoyance.

“First of all, rude. You should never bring up a mare’s age,” Celestia lectured in her best ‘I am the teacher now’ voice. “Secondly, my answer isn’t particularly philosophical. I’ve never tested it, really. Never really pushed the boundaries. It felt unnecessary. If I knew it could only make things worse.”

Celestia hummed in satisfaction as she watched the spokes and gears of Twilight’s mind churn furiously if her blank, mouth-open expression was anything to go by. Celestia continued to happily hum some old tune.

“So you were never even curious?” Twilight eventually managed to say. “Not even a little bit?” There was an edge of disbelief in her tone.

“Oh, of course, I was,” Celestia chuckled. “In the same way, a pony may look down a particularly steep cliff and wonder idly what would happen if they jumped off.” Celestia heard Twilight audibly gulp.

“Have you thrown yourself off a cliff?” she asked timidly.

“Twilight, I’m using an example to illustrate my point,” Celestia huffed. “But yes, I am hardier than the average pony, thankfully. Being an alicorn means I have had my fair share of close calls.” While Twilight ruminated on Celestia’s statement, she tried to opportunistically return to her delicious meal but was rudely interrupted in the attempt.

“But you really don’t know,” Twilight stated. Celestia sighed in defeat. Her lunch would have to wait. “Like really?”

“All things fade.” Celestia shrugged. “Who can say?”

“That just raises a host of other questions!” Twilight groaned, gesticulating wildly. “It’s a non-answer. You can’t just vaguely princess your way out of an important part of your being.”

“You know this reminds me of a story,” Celestia offered, most definitively trying to princess her way out of an awkward question. She casually moved the remains of her sandwich with her fork. She then met Twilight’s gaze to see if her perceptive partner would take the bait. From the pursed lips and the inquisitively raised eyebrow, Celestia had her mark hooked. “There was a pony once upon a time-”

“A bit cliché of an opening,” Twilight interrupted.

“Everyone is a critic,” Celestia grumbled before continuing. “There was a pony named Malevolum the Mad.”

“A bit on the nose, isn’t it?” Twilight smarmily asked. “Madness, that is.” Celestia shot the most disapproving look at the mare, which withered under the unexpected wrathful stare. Twilight sheepishly relented. “Okay, I’ll stop.”

“Well, before I so was rudely interrupted, I was going to tell you about the tale of Malevolum the Mad,” Celestia stated. “In his day, he was a sorcerer with few peers, albeit rather self-centred and proud unicorn. He could have even been an arch-mage if he had applied himself. There have been few ponies that have been so gifted in my time.” Twilight was now thoroughly enraptured, Celestia would have guffawed, but it would have distracted her from her message.

“I have never heard of him,” Twilight whispered almost to herself rather than Celestia.

“You wouldn’t have,” Celestia answered. “He was an intensively private pony who focused solely on a singular issue, his own mortality.” Celestia took a sip of her tea. “He sought out any means to seek to prevent the inevitable end. He was perturbed that his name would be forgotten, and the future generations would never get to appreciate his genius.” Celestia’s tone betrayed how little she thought of the latter statement. He, indeed, was a ridiculous pony. “Despite how long he toiled, he never found a solution to the age-old problem of death. When his time drew near, he lamented how everything he strove for was in vain and that he would be forgotten.

“But in many ways, it was a self-fulfilling fear. Malevolum was so enthralled by his dread of death that he ensured that everything he had feared would come to pass. He made no friends who spoke of his deeds, no children who carried on his legacy, wrote no great books and left no scrolls or theories. He taught no students. Eventually, he was forgotten to the sands of time.”

“Am I immortal?” Celestia asked rhetorically before she shrugged. “Maybe, who knows? But more so, who cares.” Celestia wished she had a camera as Twilight gaped in shock.

“Who cares?” Twilight repeated. “The concept of death and immortality hardly seems to be something to be so casual about.” Twilight turned away from the table.

She took in the town of Ponyville and all the happy little inhabitants that had given her life so much meaning over the past few years. Yet, Celestia could see that thought that this could all disappear into the mists of time troubled Twilight deeply.

“I mean, isn’t Malevolum a little bit right? He wasn’t an alicorn; I am. If I’m going to live forever, I need to prepare. There’s so much to think about, so many things I need to do with the girls and my family.” Twilight’s eye twitched.

Oh, uh, Celestia thought to herself. Never a good sign. That means Planet Sparkle was a few degrees from a meltdown. This lunch had been far more consequential than she thought, not because she had learned Ponyville’s daisy sandwiches were a solid eight of ten.

“And if I’m not! That’s even worse! What if it all falls apart because I just assumed I would be there and I’m not? So many ponies look to me now, and if I let them down, I don’t think I could sleep at night knowing it may not be enough.” Twilight’s gaze fell to her teacup, a deep frown crossing her pretty face.

Well, that wouldn’t do, Celestia had decided. It was time to initiate drastic measures to save their lunch; the fate of Equestria depended on it. Celestia grimaced. Well, probably not, but the lunch could be ruined!

Celestia got up to hug Twilight. She didn’t care about the stares from the neighbouring tables. Or even Twilight’s initial protestation. She was a big princess now, a national leader, but at that moment, she was a friend in desperate need of reassurance.

“I think you may have misinterpreted the story’s meaning,” Celestia whispered. The close embrace was something she truly relished whenever she could get one. A moment where Twilight’s burden could be shared for a singular moment. Celestia relented from the embrace to take in the grateful visage of Twilight; she retook her seat.

Celestia’s smile widened when she noticed the shocked whispering of ponies nearby, not because she enjoyed the spectacle but rather because Twilight was so appreciative that she did not notice them. Sometimes she worries that Twilight was so caught up in being a princess she never let her hair down anymore.

“Despite what some ponies may tell you, you are not a god. You cannot account for everything, nor are you omniscient.” Celestia retook her seat. “I may not know whether I am immortal. I don’t know if I will die today, tomorrow or when the sun dies in a billion years. I can only account for the time we have and, while we have that power, to do our best, and that has to be enough,” Celestia said solemnly, letting her message sink in. “Otherwise, you go the way of poor Malevolum, obsessed over the future he would never see rather than what he should be doing with the time he had.

“I am not afraid of dying, Twilight; I only fear that I may not have lived.” Celestia took another swig of tea, her mouth pursed. “Time is a strange little thing, the little wonderous moments in life pass with a blink. One blink a year, another a decade. Sometimes a century passes as if it were morning, but then a month will feel like a dozen lifetimes have occurred. The last two years certainly fall into the latter.” She shot Twilight a wry smile, who giggled.

“It has been crazy,” Twilight agreed with a small smile.

“Yes, it has,” Celestia answered, her own smile turning somewhat nostalgic. “That is why it is important to appreciate the gift of the present! Because life is what happens when you are planning something else, I find.” She took a sip of her tea, finishing the cup. “And if you think I will be dissuaded from giving you a hug in public in future because you’re the ruling princess now, you will be sorely disappointed. I don’t care, and you should not either.” Twilight gaped at the sudden reprimand, but it quickly descended into the cutest round of blushing Celestia had ever seen. Who knew purple and red worked so well together?

“Thank you, Celestia,” Twilight finally managed to stammer after straightening out her ruffled wings. “I really needed that. I didn’t realise how wound up I had gotten about it. I will do my best no matter what the future holds.” Celestia sniffed triumphantly; mission accomplished, it seemed. She rewarded herself with a bite from her long-abandoned sandwich. The sweet taste of victory!

“You are most welcome,” she managed to drawl between chews. Then, after finishing the quite delicious meal, she flashed a dangerous smile in Twilight’s direction, which the smaller mare regarded cautiously. “Besides, if I am immortal, at least I’ll have some great company!” Twilight groaned as yet another compliment, thoroughly outmanoeuvred by her opposite. “Personally, I can’t wait to see what the future holds.” Celestia shot Twilight a sardonic look as if the mare was a puzzle yet to be solved.“Maybe you’ll be taller than me?” Celestia suggested. Eventually, Celestia hummed appreciatively, taking in Twilight’s features as if imagining it so. “I haven’t been the little spoon in millennia.”

“That’s highly inappropriate!” Twilight yelped; the blushing fit returned tenfold and quickly descended into a hushed, urgent whisper. “I am a princess in a public place, Celestia.” The former solar monarch let forth a loud laugh that drew several disapproving glares from neighbouring tables.

“Makes it double the fun!”

“You’re a wicked mare,” Twilight moaned, shaking her head vigorously. “You do know that?”

“Guilty as charged,” Celestia declared. “I may not know exactly what the future holds, but I can surely tell you that it includes that wonderful little toffee they are offering here.” Celestia licked her lips at the thought. Nothing cleared an existential crisis like a good dessert. Twilight hummed in consideration.

“Oh, I really shouldn’t,” Twilight said. “My aides say I should encourage a good healthy lifestyle in public. You know, for health campaigns and such.”

“Back in my day, a princess could order whatever she wanted,” Celestia huffed. “Besides your not-on princess duties, this is mare talk, which means no rules!” She poked Twilight’s chest with an outstretched hoof. “If there is one you should take from today, it is that life is something we should enjoy today; otherwise, it is all very dull.”

Twilight met Celestia’s eyes, then nodded slightly, the solar mare’s smile proving infectious. Soon Twilight shook her head, but she could not shake her own smile.

“Well, it is such a lovely day,” Twilight said slowly. Maybe a small toffee wouldn’t be too much.” Celestia could only laugh, and soon Twilight was too.

The long years carried on, and Twilight’s reign would encapsulate many great and memorable historical events. Nevertheless, the two alicorns would always recall with fondness the time they held lunch beneath the shining sun in the cosy town of Ponyville, where the only thing they had needed was each other’s company, and for them, that was enough.

FIN

Author's Note

Dedicated to my grandmother who unfortunately is quite ill and who I appreciate every day I see her.

During the covid lock-down I took to reading Marcus Aurelius's Meditations and this story reflects the impact that has had on my life with heaps of Twiliestia in-between! This is a real blast from the past for me, hope everyone enjoys! Didn't have a huge amount of time to edit so there may be mistakes! Please let me know.