Was there a pony alive today whose life hadn’t been shaped by Princess Celestia?
It was a thought Octavia found herself dwelling on every once in a while, when alone in her home (in the few moments she had to herself when she could think of such topics), or even in the depths of her performances, in the moments when it was simply her and her cello. The thought came often, and so did the princess herself, a familiar topic that nestled deep in the confines of her mind.
Every child knew about her. The eternal ruler of Equestria, who burnt brighter than any pony in history, a star that was still shining brightly to this very day. She was as constant as the very sun she moved, an eternal symbol throughout history, leader of countless battles, muse of a thousand artists.
She had already thought of her being like the sun, but there was no denying that was simply the easiest comparison to make; to ponies they were practically one and the same. Octavia was no different in her relationship with their princess. She’d known about her since she was a filly, a childhood in Canterlot meaning she was a small, tiny star that just so happened to be closer to a beautiful inferno that spread life and peace wherever it went.
What a conflicting beauty it was.
Their princess was beautiful, yet she had been brutal, the battles of long ago were lost to history, but the echoes still alive if you knew where to look, hidden away in book pages and old paintings, even the occasional song. She promoted friendship and unity, bonds and closeness, yet the more she looked as a child, the more clear something became.
“Is she lonely?” she had asked one night, fighting to stay awake after a particularly hectic day.
“Lonely? Of course she isn’t dear! She’s the princess, she has all those guards and castle staff with her. How can she be lonely?”
Octavia would have loved to answer but she had fallen asleep right as her mother had finished. A good thing too, she had a feeling a four year old debating on the status of their princess wouldn’t have been a positive childhood memory. But that had been the start of her fascination with the paradoxical princess, the loneliest pony she had ever known.
Ever since a short four note melody she had composed on a whim during a particularly boring tutoring session, Celestia had been her muse, the source of inspiration for everything her hooves brought into this world. Not the immovable general of ages past, or the kind caring ruler of her own time, just the simple pony behind it all.
It was strange; ponies cared so much about what Celestia represented, what her actions had done for them, yet the obvious fact there was a pony, a powerful, beautiful pony for sure, but still just a pony behind them, seemed to have escaped everypony's notice.
Was there a reason for this? Octavia wondered about that often, perhaps it was her upbringing. She had spent countless days in her parent’s mansion, yet never outside it without their saying so. It was for the best they said, it was all in her interest, yet even to a child it was clear no matter how beautiful something could be made, it did little to change the function of a cage.
It took years for her to be free, for her to find her passion and discover the courage to follow it, to shrug off the complaining that she wasn’t getting into the “right” arts, or having the “right” friends, and so much more nonsense she couldn’t care enough to remember. Yet in every step of that, she became incredibly familiar with the feeling of being trapped.
And when she stared upon their flawless princess, she saw an expression not so dissimilar to her own from those days long ago.
Celestia was beautiful too. Had she mentioned that? It was almost unreal how such regality and status had transferred to a pure, unchanging beauty over the centuries. At first she thought such reports that described her as such were clearly exaggerated in some manner, but upon seeing her for the first time, even at a distance in some event her parents had dragged her too, those same words came to mind and so much more.
Of course she was an inspiration too. How could she not be? She was a perfect role model. Regardless of the captive atmosphere that hung over her, it was clear she cared deeply for all of her subjects.
She shined the most in her life when she wasn’t even present, she remembered when she was laughed at for trying to follow her passions, the unicorns and pegasi taunted her for even trying to play her beloved cello without the magic or wings that made it so much easier.
It was one night that she realised something though, ironically when their beloved princess’s sun was the weakest that she was the light that guided her forwards. It was obvious really. Celestia was an alicorn, but it wasn’t those wings or horn that made her special, it was that conviction, that leadership that made her the legend she was today.
And it was that thought that had guided her throughout her career and life that came next.
She was getting off topic though. Just what cage was their princess trapped within? Responsibility? The sins of countless years? The demands of being a princess? Who could say?
She really was lonely. The return of her mythical sister had inspired several triumphant sonnets in her brainstorming sessions at the time, but the fact remained that the problem still seemed apparent. The princess had aides, family, even faithful students, but could most of those be called friends?
In the end, she could only speculate and watch, for (as history showed) very few ponies could get close to her without being burnt in some way. Ponies that were few and far between, all of which were exceptional in their own way. Everypony was special of course, but you had to truly stand out from the crowd to earn recognition from the princess of the sun herself.
She long ago had accepted that try as she might, she could never reach that inner circle. She was but a lowly musician. Her place was here, quietly playing a medley in tribute to a beautiful yet trapped enchantress who only wished to be free of her countless caterers' whims.
She had been feeling abstract that day.
So Celestia could mean anything to anypony, and to Octavia, she was everything and more, a blazing inferno she needed to keep her distance from, yet one she had trotted towards all the same. But this was as far as she could reasonably stand, playing in Canterlot, watched by her unknowing muse from the highest balcony.
It wasn’t the first performance the princess had attended, and Octavia doubted and hoped it wouldn’t be the last, the feeling of the alicorn watching her helping soothe her nerves before they could even appear.
It was a blissful experience, one she savoured above anything else, the feeling of being noticed by the one she had admired so much bringing her peace, almost satisfaction she had reached the highest point she could.
She could never talk to her as an equal. Or bask any closer. She would likely never exchange any sufficient words with her either.
But by the sun did she wish she could. She was such a tiny star, so insignificant compared to that forever blazing orb, primed to flicker and die in what would only be the blink of an eye for their princess. She would get burnt.
Since that’s what this was, wasn’t it? Love. Romantic love that would never be known to the world. A love that had no chance of being brought back in return, but still love all the same. Her roommate had set her up on dates before, and she had felt nothing towards them. Her parents always said she had high standards (rather rich coming from them) but in the matter of romance, they may have been closer to the mark than even they knew at the time.
After all, nopony, no matter how wonderful, could ever compare to the everlasting princess of the sun.
She would have dwelled on the topic longer, but she was coming upon a tricky section of the performance, one that had been composed to follow the aching of her heartstrings, the longing that would never be fulfilled but remained beautiful regardless. So she played, pouring her heart and feelings out for the world and her muse to hear, not that she would ever know it.
This was enough.
—
Was it improper for a princess to think so wishfully of one of their own subjects?
The question was quite silly really, depending on who you asked. The civilians of Equestria would likely have varying thoughts on the topic after getting over the confusion of being suddenly asked such a thing. But it would be even stranger to ask Celestia herself.
She was the princess. Ruler of all of Equestria. Really, she was who decided what her little ponies considered right and wrong, proper and inappropriate, good and evil. Theoretically, if any pony knew the answer, it would have to be her.
But still, she asked herself the question, hoping an answer would come.
There were plenty of things to consider, but she pushed them aside for now, her expression neutral as everything slipped away, the crowd, the pressures of her day, even Raven’s slightly judging glare from behind her, likely still annoyed at the last minute placement of her attending the performance in the schedule.
To Celestia, in the vastness of the concert hall, it was simply her, Octavia, and the wonderful music she created.
Moments like this were essential on some of her more difficult days, breathers to relieve the tensions and frustrations that could build from her packed routine. They could take many forms, but public performances had always been the perfect balance of giving her a break while still looking like she was doing something important.
Octavia’s were her favourite, ever since she had performed in an event she was attending (whatever it was for wasn’t important, it had quickly blended in with the thousands of others she had been to), the wealthy pony’s melody had captured her heart and refused to let go. Her performance had been the only thing that made the event stick out in her mind, stopping it from shrinking into the ocean of forgetfulness that most memories seemed to fall into.
Has there ever been an earth pony so skilled with a cello before? She was certain there wasn’t, that would have probably stuck out in her mind. This pony was the first and despite (or perhaps thanks to) the disadvantages, she played it better than anypony in history. That she could confirm for sure; she had been there with Luna when the cello was played professionally for the first time. Fun night.
She had always liked the sweet, soothing tunes made by the instrument, but Octavia’s music was beyond even them, the sounds so perfect and flawless she wondered how it wasn’t being pushed to its limits. Yet she made it look seamless, as graceful if not more so than her usual attitude towards her little ponies, all while playing such wonderful compositions.
It was as if those beautiful songs weren’t just composed to what she had presented herself as, they were truly for her. The true pony she had buried for the good of her subjects. That optimistic pony that so long ago wanted to make the world a better place because it was the kind thing to do.
How much of that pony remained in the alicorn princess today, she wondered.
She sighed, a familiar feeling stirring in her soul as she looked down at the performing pony, biting her lip subtly as she prevented her expression from changing.
There was also the fact that Miss Melody was astoundingly beautiful. It was a thought that came to mind in every performance, one she kept in a pretty little box in the depths of her mind, where she imagined every thought like it being gently placed into whenever she was done thinking it. Many thoughts had started in that box, something being wrong with Luna, maybe it being time to look for a successor (both attempts one and two) and the various thoughts like this one.
Since Octavia wasn’t the first. How could she be? She was a pony like anypony else, and it wasn’t like she could help who she was attracted to. But she was the first in a while, her beauty and grace enchanting her even at such a distance.
She was so far away too. The distance between them was so vast. Not that it stopped her from wishing they could be closer in more ways than one. She was a princess though! What was stopping her from being closer? She could have her! She could have anything she-
She sighed. The thoughts were back again, echoing from the pretty little box as always.
That was the trouble really, longing and passion were always interlinked for her. So many of them had echoed through her head for centuries on end, and some of them were... less than pleasant. She put so much effort in holding back the less savoury desires over the years, all those frustrations swirling inside and growing more and more desperate to escape.
How long had she been stuck dealing with them? Was there ever even a time without them? Eating away at her peace, tempting her with such beauties and pleasures, things she wanted, things that would make her happy.
But behind them, behind them were more urges, things she couldn’t justify. How easy it would be to become a tyrant, one that took power by force, breaking the stupid routines she had been shackled by for millennia! Showing those weak ponies just how powerful alicorns could be! Why she was their ruler! And all of them would praise her everlasting glory in return for her kindness with the beautiful musician as her brid-
Celestia sipped her tea and sighed once more.
It was tough dealing with everything she had to, the weight of the world resting on her. She knew just how deadly Equestria could be. Yet despite that, she chose kindness (coward) after the first few centuries of defending her growing kingdom against threats (why didn’t we keep going! We shouldn’t have stopped!)
Those days, the world was a much more dangerous place, filled with unknown creatures with blackened hearts, driven insane by power, hungry for new territory. But they were gone now. She had won and Equestria was what remained. (Only one of those monsters was left, wasn’t she Celly?)
She wouldn’t say it was easy. But she learned to handle facing monster after monster. Tyrant after tyrant. It became routine. Almost like a schedule that Raven put together. It was simple. She grew stronger. And her role as defender was clear.
But then one monster took the form of a pony.
An alicorn.
Luna.
She hadn’t meant to make her feel neglected, and she was just as certain that the subjects didn’t either, but it happened anyways, and she paid the price for it. Not that the legends told of that; they put all the blame on her sister, said it was her wicked heart, started an entire holiday when she was the villain, and she was powerless to stop them. (You could have. You could have stopped it all! But no, that’s too tyrannical, isn’t it? Aren’t you in charge? You decide what is good and evil.)
It was a long battle, one that took all she had, but she emerged victorious. So the history books said, but the truth was, she didn’t feel like she had won anything. Instead, only one thought went through her head, echoing on repeat.
“That could be me.”
She formed the royal guard after that, began forcing on alternative solutions, more diplomatic like she had attempted in the past, relieved that the world was now at least more
willing to listen. The centuries of legends she had left in her last battle probably helped.
They called her a hero, they called her perfect, a goddess, she had who knows how many religions formed in her honour. Yet did she deserve any of it? Any at all?
In the end she was an idealistic coward that cared for herself rather than the safety of her subjects. Nightmare Moon was a threat that… no. No, she refused to think such thoughts. (Why not? If she wasn’t your sister you’d have struck her down. You were a coward. You let the greatest threat to your power live!)
Another song soon began, bringing her back to reality, a calming, beautiful performance that silenced the strife in her heart. For now at least. She had heard this song live before, not that Raven knew it. It was a performance she had snuck out to watch, thanks to a necklace enchanted with Changeling magic she had in storage. Officially destroyed, but one advantage of being a princess was that nopony questioned it when things went missing after private visits.
When she wore it, she looked like just a normal pony, perfect for the nights when she couldn’t get the cello’s melodies out of her head, when she needed to see her. When Octavia was on the stage, Celestia wondered if this was how the rest of the world saw her, a flawless, stunning beauty, free of mistakes, and filled with wonder.
And now she understood the longing that came with it.
For sun’s sake, how did they all manage it? Being so close to such a pillar of perfection. Wanting it more than anything else, but it remained out of reach, no matter how hard she wished.
She could use her power as a princess, sure. Arrange a marriage like Luna had suggested in the olden days, but that was selfish, foolish, barbaric. It was treating Octavia as little more than an object, one who’s desires seemingly didn’t matter.
In her private little daydreams, ones free of worry and concern, Celestia was the simple pony she appeared as in those nights out. One that was free to be with the pony of her dreams, where she could go around doing things for somepony else, all at her own leisure, without the cage of responsibility that hung around her every move.
It was a common fantasy, and she always wondered how reality would compare to it in a few short months, when the final steps for Twilight’s rule were finally put into motion. (You’ve simply thrown your burdens onto her! She will fail! She will suffer! You are a coward!)
Would she be free of the voice then too? Having a name for it thanks to Starlight didn’t do much, although Daybreaker did roll off the tongue better than “voice”. And it helped to act like it was something other than a fragment of her that actually considered the horrific, tyrannical acts even for a moment.
It was much easier to focus on the present, although she was doing an awful job of that tonight, another melody coming to an end as she sighed once more. But she knew this was all this was going to be. Maybe they could exchange words on some occasions, but she doubted she could ever talk to her as an equal. Octavia was destined to be another name, while she was cursed to carry on.
“No. Now that’s just focusing on the future instead…” she muttered in annoyance, barely audible as Raven gave a curious glance.
“Something wrong princess?”
“Nothing Raven. Let’s just enjoy the end of the show.”
“As you wish.”
Really, this was all quite ridiculous, now that she thought about it. The princess having a crush on a classical musician of all ponies? One she snuck out like a teenage filly just to watch? The papers would have a field day with that. If they even believed it.
That was all it was going to be wasn’t it? A silly story. A fantasy. Something that would remain in her head, never to be heard in the waking outside world.
Maybe it was better that way.
If not getting the pony of her affections meant the safety of her subjects, and would keep the temptations of Daybreaker under control, then it wasn’t even a question what the right decision was. It would be selfish to ever think otherwise, or even consider what might lead to ruin, no matter how small it truly was.
Besides, would Octavtia really think that highly of her? She doubted she hated her, but a fondness towards their ruler was quite different to the romantic interest Celestia had for her. But still, the tingle of longing in her heart remained, bringing forth a final sigh as a familiar statement ran through her mind once more.
This was enough.
Author's Note
Sometimes you just get an idea for a random pairing so out there you just have to write something for it. (I actually thought of this while trying to get to sleep one night, lol). This was a fun fic to work on! Not only as one in its own right, but one that let me have a break from my other main project.
Celestia is a character ripe for exploration and a comment on my Lyrabon story by Bicyclette (eventually) prompted me to think about how ponies could see and think of her differently, which sorta lead to this more introspective kind of fic covering how one character views her and even how she views herself. While for Octavia, she was one of the only characters I wanted to write for that didn't have an idea in the pipeline already.
Despite the somber feel of this fic, I am considering doing some follow-ups one day, most likely with a more hopeful feel than this. I hope everypony enjoys! (Also big thanks to my friend for once more editing the horse words!)
