"Somepony had quite the fitful sleep, or so I've heard." Princess Celestia's playfully teasing voice trails his ear, her breath hot on his skin as she leans close to whisper.

"Now where'd you hear that?" Arnon weakly refutes, rolling his eyes at the pony who bore a tendency to invade his personal space.

Not that he minded, considering that wasn't a unique trait among them. One gets uses to their particular brand of unavoidable nosiness.

"Vivid's post-night report... well, past all of her yawning, included that you were relatively... noisy during your rest. Was my sister being a bother?" Celestia continues to press, slowly stepping around him, amusement layering her tone.

The pair enjoy a casual walk in mid-afternoon halls, Arnon feeling... well, refreshed definitely isn't the word. Being late thanks to the blue-tinted pony of late night royal visits, Tia at least took no issue with the act itself on account of his slow recovery. But that didn't mean he was free from the inevitable teasing that was to occur.

Unlike Arnon, whose still dressed up in his usual Advisatorial garb, fanciful cap hanging off his belt, the Princess of the Sun is fully soaking in that it's Sunday. Her staple, recognizable dressings of gold, amethyst-encrusted necklace and hoof-capped regalia is missing, tucked away somewhere to be polished, leaving her as bare as the ponies that tread the outside streets. Well, almost. Celestia still retains a small golden ear-clip, probably so she still had something to wear. After adorning a crown, hooves, and whatever chest-necklace thing that was for years, going without in front of her numerous ponies probably still felt weird.

The newly-statured day-off for the Canterlot Royalty meant there were no meetings, no court, no duties. Nothing. Just a proper, quiet day off, where if some-pony so much as mentions a task to either of the Princesses, they were to be dragged out of the castle by the guards.

While that last part was Arnon's most turmoil-ridden addition to the day (disapproved of by Celestia, but approved by Luna), the recently-appointed weekly 'holiday' was something Celestia seemed to be enjoying deeply, if her almost outright giddy mood was anything to go by.

Staff-ponies and patrolling guards politely bow to the under-dressed Princess of the Sun as they pass by, Celestia masterfully slipping between her typical regal posturing, nodding her head to each in turn, and flipping back to her more relaxed, almost bubbly mood. The coy smirk on her face is quick to reappear whenever another pony wasn't looking, continuing to rib him over his lateness. Even thousand year old rulers of nations get giddy on their day off, especially when they haven't had them for the last... ever.

It was pretty cute, so the teasing was forgiven.

"No, she was -- wait, my guards give reports about me?" Arnon pauses, turning.

"Of course?" Celestia affirms, as if there was no more obvious thing in the world.
"As does your Day-Guard, Bulwark. Though Vivid's don't include quite so many timestamps as his, only far more personal opinions about your behavior. They're both a good insight to your wellbeing, since Luna is rather impartial to giving up anything about you. She's always loved her secrets."

Arnon's got a feeling she likes the gossipy version of Vivid's reportings on things, anyway. With Twilight back in Ponyville, at least he was spared from being included in her reports, which were far more invasive.

"Wonderful." Arnon snorts dismissively, rolling his eyes as they keep treading the hall. Not like it mattered either way, being an omnipotent, sun-connected, whatever-super-pony. If she wanted to know what he'd been up to, she'd find out.

Admittedly, he was a touch cranky. Disturbed sleep, even with his dreams ending on a high note were bound to disrupt his already dicey sleep schedule. The dream-date with the moon-princess left some serious bags under his eyes. Turns out, doing things all day, and then all night, even if only mentally, was exhausting.

Not like Twilight's latest attempt at a no-sleep spell was helping much either, with how it had more issues than features. A spell to keep your eyelids from shutting. Even when you weren't trying to sleep. He had to force his eyelids shut just to blink. Genius, Twi.

"Does that bother you? I can ask them to stop, if you'd prefer." Celestia asks, stopping. Her ears twitch, head tilting ever so slightly. The hallway is quiet, only a passing maid pushing a wagon down a distant hall, leaving the pair mostly alone.

"Oh yeah, super bothered. Maybe I could tolerate it if you swung by yourself, ask how I've been... but I guess if you're just too busy, we can just let the guards relay things." Anon dramatically sighs, walking past her.

Celestia perks up, face scrunching as she quickly picks up after him.
"Well, you are my Advisor, Arnon. Not just mine, but my sisters as well. And, arguably, the Ward of young Twilight Sparkle. Your well-being is quite high on my personal list of priorities."

"What, top three?" Arnon asks hopefully.

"... Top ten." Celestia states after a short deliberation, before grinning widely, goading him.

"Ouch. You know what? I'm calling bullshit. Top five at least. I saw the way you sweated over me and my arm." Arnon refutes, pointing an accusatory finger at the Princess.

"Well, of course I was worried, I was the one at fault for that, Arnon." Celestia readily agrees, guiltily glancing at his still-healing limb.

"So... if some other pony snapped my arm --" Arnon goes to theorize, but doesn't get very far, the snout of a very white, very powerful horse finding itself promptly inches from his own nose.

Tia leans close, tone growing suddenly huffy.
"Why, I'd be very cross with that particular individual, Arnon. As I've previously stated, you're mine."

"You... mean I'm your Advisor, right?" Arnon tries to clarify, eyes widening at her proximity. Her own eyes widen in turn, quickly pulling away, as if surprised at her own forwardness.

"... That is what I said, is it not?" Celestia quickly backpedals, before a small smile takes her face and she giggles loudly. She trots down the hall just ahead of Arnon, laughing quietly to herself.
"Goodness, Tia, what are you doing..."

Somehow, a broken arm feels like it won't be the worst thing he ends up with. Arnon's ponderings of self-survival are quickly brought to a halt, as Celestia glances behind herself, looking back at him from underneath her ever-flowing, aurora-like mane.

Probably worth it, even if a few more limbs are at risk.

By the time Arnon catches up with his meandering, day-off pace, Celestia has paused in one of the many junctions throughout the castle, glancing up and down the mostly empty halls. Only a few errant guards on their patrol route, chatting between themselves.

"You know what? We do have the day off. Might I... share something with you, Arnon?" Tia prompts suddenly, turning to face him as Arnon catches up. One of her wings stretches out to rest against his back, almost like she's confiding in him.

"Sure. What did you have in mind?" Arnon asks, confused.

"Follow me." She grins, nodding for him to keep up. Celestia moves at a brisk pace, off again and trotting through the halls with the memory of a thousand years worth of residing within its walls, staying just ahead of him. It doesn't matter what pace Arnon tries to keep, the gap never closes; she moves with an unparalleled familiarity that not even Luna might rival, shifting halls and paths, taking turns and corners without so much as pausing to check as they descend deeper into the depths of Canterlot Castle.

Nary a soul is in sight, leaving empty halls of carved stone that soon become unfamiliar to Equestria's sole human, as Arnon is lead on.

"Don't think I've seen these halls before." Arnon comments, doing his best to keep up with her. She's getting a good pace going, clearly excited about something. There's an unusual eerie feeling to this part of the Canterlot Castle, a sensation that's pretty unusual for what this place normally makes him feel.

"Most haven't." Celestia answers snippily, clearly distracted.

"Even your staff?"

"Hardly. Truthfully, it could use a better dusting..." Celestia comments, pausing to blow dust off a stone bust of herself. Arnon isn't sure why, but it doesn't quite look like Tia. Like... a younger Celestia. There's less rainbowy texture to her hair, though stone is hardly the medium to show it.

"Even your guard?" He asks, surprised.

"Little more than the odd patrol down these old ways. These halls are the second-most private places in this Castle, beyond my sister and I's rooms, if you find that little factoid interesting." There's almost a tinge of pride to those words, catching Arnon's interest.

"So is this the part where I ask where we're going, or is this some kind of surprise?" Arnon tries pressing, though he doesn't expect much out of it.

The only form of response is catching a glance of the cheeky smile that forms on the edge of her lips. Surprise it is, then.

"It should be right around..." Celestia mumbles to herself, glancing between two halls.

"I could try to help you find it, if I had any clue what --" Arnon half-heartidly offers, before the Princess cuts him off.

"Aha!" Tia suddenly announces, spinning around with an excited smile sat smack on her face, presenting with her wing... a staircase.

An unlit staircase with empty sconces, leading dowmwards into complete darkness, likely by several stories.

"...You sure we didn't take a wrong turn?" Arnon tries. No dice, Celestia only giggling as she takes the lead, eagerly trotting down the steps.

"Nope! Come along, almost there!" He hears her call up to him, as her white fur is slowly subsumed by shadows, leaving just him, and... eerily empty halls. This seems more like something Luna would pull.

Arnon hasn't seen this place look empty a single time since he got here. It's pretty jarring. There's always someone going around doing something, day or night. Staff on their numerous tasks of cleaning or keeping the busy work at bay, guards on patrol or posted up, mail carriers, anything. Feels almost liminal, the way there's just a sudden staircase leading further below after how many same-looking, silent hallways.

"Arnon? You coming?" He hears distantly.

Unsure of what to expect, Arnon steels himself with a long sigh, hand on the stone-brick wall as he follows after the Princess.

??? - Lower Canterlot Castle

Slowly feeling the walls, with tentative steps to feel out each step of the dark staircase, light never properly returns as Arnon descends deeper.

He startles himself as the ground suddenly evens out, no further steps to descend unto.
"Uh... Princess?" He calls out into the nothingness. Glancing back up the steps, to the distant, dim light, makes him wonder if he should just head back up, and grab a lantern or something. That was what... three stories worth of stairs? Just how deep did they go?

"Tia?" Arnon calls out again. This time, it's immediately met with a far, muffled noise.

"Oh! Shoot. Apologies, Arnon." He hears get closer, as the soft golden glow of a horn accompanies the words up the dark hall, towards him. It's bright enough to reveal about half Princess Celestia, but not much else, little light splashing onto the floor or the closest wall.
"I got a little excited. Forgive me, I forgot you don't do well in the dark."

"Yeah, no built in glowstick, unfortunately. Or magic Alicorn eyes." Arnon sighs, finally letting his hand leave the wall as he approaches the Princess, waving a finger around where a horn would probably fit on his dome.
"Where are you dragging me off to, anyway?"

"You'll see." Is all he gets, sung at him in a sing-song tone.

"Alright, just don't get too far ahead. If I get lost and starve down here, I'll be a somewhat disgruntled ghost. And haunt you." Arnon warns, entirely serious.

"Arnon. You know ghosts aren't real." Celestia scoffs, incredulous.

"Bullshit. Respectfully, bullshit. I don't believe that for even a second." Arnon quickly disagrees, huffing loudly. With the kind of shit that goes on in this pretty little pony land, ethereal equines were not out of the question. He refused that belief.
"Hang on, actually. You'll confirm that ghosts don't exist, but not that you won't leave me down here to go hungry?" Arnon adds, snorting.
"That's cold, Princess."

A long groan escapes the Princess, a sound only the fifth-most annoying creature on Equus could get out of her. Arnon would be higher on the list, but there's some heavy competition in the region. Mostly from purple and pink furred ponies.

"Come here, then." Arnon hears, as a feathery wing wraps around his back, pulling him against her side. He forgets just how warm she is.
"Hoof on my back, and stay close. Let me guide you." She instructs simply, though the wing doesn't go anywhere.

"Just be gentle." Arnon laughs, resting his hand against the her, letting his fingers dig into the fur.

"With you? I'll see what I can do. Your presence brings out a... particular surge of energy, that I seem to have trouble containing." Celestia sighs wistfully, a mix between playful teasing and guilt. She clearly still felt bad about his arm -- probably the first living creature she's hurt in a century -- but Arnon was well past that, trying to lighten the mood.

"Let's aim for gentler than normal? You know, if that's possible."

"You have my word, my dear Advisor, that I shan't harm you. Again." Celestia says resolutely -- before flinching as a hand pinches her rear, making a sudden 'eep' noise.

"I never said that. Just gentler next time." Arnon comments quietly, glancing into the darkness, away from the sole, soft glow around them.

Yet he can still feel her fur bristle and feathers stiffen with an excitement at his words, even as she looks ahead.
"You know, you speak and act quite differently to me, compared to when you first started in this position. Somepony has gotten quite comfortable." She comments, side-eyeing him.

"I could say the same for you, Princess. Despite sharing me with your sister positionally, you seem intent on keeping me on a short leash."

"A leash, you say? Not a bad idea." Celestia mumbles, humming to herself.

"What?"

"What? Oh -- look! We're here." Celestia quickly brushes past him, her horn glowing brighter. It reveals a sturdy door as she approaches their destination, braced against a doorframe of stone, sturdily pressed into the brick wall. There's a sizable hunk of metal where a lock would be, but no keyhole.

... Celestia wouldn't have a hidden sex dungeon, would she?

The Princess turns back, smiling at him.
"I haven't shown anypony this in... probably a few centuries, at the least. I can't even remember the last time I was down here."

It's totally a kinky immortal sex dungeon. He's doomed.

Celestia leans her horn against the door, the golden glow of her magic starting to pulse as it seeps into... the way it starts to click, it might be a lock after all, just opened with magic instead of a key.

"How did it go again... ah! Here we are." Celestia proudly announces, stepping back as a sizable thud, a clink a whirring, a cha-gunk, and finally a wizz can be heard inside the door. With a hoof, she pushes it open, the sturdy door slowly groaning open as it reveals... more darkness.

"Allow me to shed some light..." She mutters, holding her head up. Her horn radiates with a sudden, soft burst of magic that seeps outward. In the empty sconces, a small ball of flame erupts, offering light for the first time in centuries. Arnon squints, his eyes now interrupted from getting used to the low-light.

A testing hand against the door as he passes through proves it's a very heavy thing, not even budging so much as a smidgen when he pushes against it. A room for the pony powerhouses only.

Definitely a sex dung--

Slowly, sconces after sconce, Flames erupt to life each a short distance from each-other, further and further down their destination, revealing... a long, long Armory.

Not quite what Arnon expected.

Disappointed? No.

Okay, a little.

The 'torches' continue to light in this deep, windowless room, as more and more of it are distantly revealed. Suits of pony-built armor and weapons, artefacts and objects of interest, trophies, all tenderly placed on pedestals, platforms, stands... it makes Luna's personal armory look tiny. Each wall is lined with a variety of objects, as is a central aisle that runs between them, essentially giving the room two lanes, with the odd break in the middle to allow for one to cross between.

The most obvious part of it all, however, is the consistent use of a particular sun-pony's motif, and the heavy use of gold. This is Celestia's near-thousand year old armory, if not older. The color he didn't expect, though, was pink. A fair amount of the cloth-bits to weapon wraps, the skirts to armor, the details to tapestries and so on seem to share this color, though it fades quickly, being exchanged for other, more familiar far colors deeper into the armory.

The torches are still going in the distance, erupting to life to bathe the room in light.

"...You couldn't have done that earlier?" Arnon huffs, pointing at one of the magical flames.

"Where's the fun in that?" Celestia teases, stopping by the very first, central exhibit.
"Perhaps this old mare is fond of being relied upon."

"What is all this?" Arnon asks aloud, catching up to Celestia at his own curious pace, pausing to glance around.

"This... well, you are aware that the Guards keep their own armory for their spears and weapons, and Luna maintains her own attached to her room? In a sense, it is my armory. And in part... my history." Celestia explains, her eyes falling onto the first collection. It's an armor stand, holding a near-primitive looking set of battle-armor. Compared to the hoof-plates that brace Luna's armor, the straps look simple, as do the metal plates for protection. They mostly face forward, and they look worn. A large, bulky chest plate protrudes outward, and there doesn't look to be any liner underneath for comfort.

Arnon had told Celestia of Earth, the odd time she asked. It was mostly Twilight who took an interest in such things, but the Princess had her own questions and curiosities. In retrospect, Arnon realizes he's told the Princess a lot more about himself than she's told him about herself. An outcome from being able to read about her in history books, Arnon assumes. Not many individuals you can speak to who have books and scrolls telling of them three-hundred years ago and beyond.

"My first suit of armor. Faust, it was a bulky thing that barely offered any mobility. Or protection, really. Alicorns have a strong regenerative factor, so armor needs to perform something for us to even be worth taking into battle. Protecting vital points that would endanger us on the battlefield if injured, that kind of thing. This one, though... heavy, and dug into the fur. I remember trying to brush the mats out. Took days. Horrid thing." She laughs after explaining, reminiscing of things many years ago.
"I don't believe Luna kept her set. She hated hers even more than I did, with how she could barely take off from the ground with it -- though she's changed her tune about how heavy she likes her armor. These ones were supposed to have helmets, too, but the smiths had trouble making room for our horns and manes. Not a problem they have now, thankfully." Celestia says, tracing the chestplate with a hoof. It almost looks like she's staring through it, rather then at it.

While the ponies may not have advanced heavily in technology the last thousand years, the further down the armory Arnon looks, the more refined the weapons and armor seem to be; perfecting their craft, with small innovations.

There's a few dents and scrapes on the chest plate, as if it was placed on the stand, and left untouched. Arnon expected a good helping of dust too, but finds everything to be almost entirely untouched.

It's also sized for someone smaller than the Princess, probably by a head, unlikely to fit her now. A surprising but reasonable thing to notice, considering she was younger. Just... if by a thousand years, if not more.

"Thought you said no staff come down here? Place is spotless." Arnon whistles, to which Celestia smiles.

"An old, forgotten spell. A very simple one, rendering a room in a near timeless fashion. Best not used when living creatures reside within, but wonderful for keeping away dust and the wear of time. There are countless spells that are simply rediscovered, and countless more that have been forgotten."

"Twilight could use that, honestly. Save her an entire day of deep-cleaning her library." Arnon tries offering.

Celestia raises a brow, snorting air at him.

"...Or, best she never get her hooves on any time spells." Arnon purses his lips, quickly nodding.

"I'm glad that's something we can agree on." Celestia chuckles.

Sorry, Spike. One must suffer the Sunday Sweeps for the good of the nation. Twilight and spells of convenience don't often mix well.

"I do adore dear Twilight Sparkle's enthusiasm for new spells... though some are best laid to rest. There's a reason most of the castle isn't under the same spell." Celestia says, catching Arnon's interest.

"Oh? I mean, fair, but do tell." Arnon goads, and Celestia is more than happy to explain.

"You see, living things within it's breadth also do not face the slow of time. When we exit this room, it will be as if we haven't aged. Though that may only be minutes to hours, it's best kept in rarely-visited rooms. In truth, if it was any other, I would have disabled the spell."

"Doesn't quite matter when the only one entering is an immortal, I'm guessing." Arnon offers, stepping around the first display.
"So I don't age while I'm in here? Or, a pony would, but I probably won't?"

"That, and I'm certain your... unique temperament to our worlds magic holds a similar result. But, there's far more to see, if you're willing?" Celestia tilts her head, watching him join her.

"Giving me a first-hand look on the past of the Sun Monarch? I'm honored, your grace." Arnon half-bows, before a feathery wing softly slaps his back.

"You're one of the few creatures in centuries that I feel bold enough to share some of my secrets with. Not that I can keep them from you, really. I've heard you know your way around the Forbidden Archives better than the Librarian." Celestia teases, grinning as Arnon coughs and glances away.

"Well... the place needed someone to maintain it, with all that magic junk just sitting there. And you -- you hardly act like a Princess whenever we're not in the public eye. Bold enough for a few other things that I would dare say are outright scandalous." Arnon teases.

Celestia looks like she's about to comment on the state of the Archives, until a particular word hits her ears.
"Scandalous?" Celestia questions, leaning in to squint at him.

"Your comments aren't as quiet as you think, and I've found my blanket... 'lacking' after what happened following the hoof-wrestling tournament."

"Oh. Well, that was..." Celestia bites her lip. Of course she remembers, it was easily one of their boldest moments. Tia distracts herself with one of the nearby displays; a crossed pair of swords over what looks to be an older-style tapestry of the Equestrian banner, only one of which blades looks to have seen any actual wear.

"Oh, I remember these. I wanted to try them out, but swords just never ended up being my thing. Think I tried spears next..." She rambles, hoping to distract Arnon from that part of the conversation.

"You know, you send a lot of mixed signals." Arnon prods her furred side softly, bringing her back to reality. She blinks at his hand, purses her lips, and muses over something, sighing.

"I... suppose I do. I apologize, Arnon. I don't... interact with ponies like this. Ever since Nightmare Moon's exile, I focused on the kingdom. And my other attempts at connections have... fallen short more often than not." Celestia explains after a short pause, starting to walk down one of the open paths between the arranged weapons and armors.

There's a lot more weapons than armor, a new suit only appearing after several displays of weapons. Some, almost entirely untouched, like they were freshly forged. Others, worn with some level of use.

Then they pass a maul, cracked and bent from use, the crimson still stained deep into its metal. It's design is much simpler than that of the weapons displayed around it, likely made without much flair in a time of strife.

At least, that's Arnon's assumption. He knows the last thousand years of attempting peace haven't been entirely peaceful, thanks to some choice reading in the no-no section.

Celestia watches his expression as they pass it, as if she's expecting judgement.

She's surprised when all Arnon does is raise his eyebrows.
"Big thing must've needed whacking with that puppy."

"It was certainly a large 'puppy' as you say. One of the largest dragons to ever exist, and leader of their rebellion... only a hundred years after I began my sole rule. The Dragons weren't interested in admittedly... pushy attempts to persuade them into the ways of harmony. It's why they exist as an independent vassal now, actually." She informs him. He can't quite tell if that's a tinge of pride, or guilt he detects in her voice. It very well might be both.

"Celestia the Dragon Slayer, crusher of Rebellions." Arnon states with a grandiose, over the top voice, holding his hands high.

"I... suppose, those titles would be fitting." Celestia replies awkwardly, shying away at the name.

"This must be a difficult topic for you. Honestly, I'm surprised you wanted to show me this stuff." Arnon notes, catching on to her decaying mood.

"I haven't upset you, have I?" Celestia questions.

"Nah, my world is pretty grimy, and this stuff is gnarly to look at. Like, in a good way. I just bet you've got very few ponies to talk to about this kind of stuff." Arnon notes, gesturing to another display, one beholding a crown of foreign make, shaped of bone.

"Discussing the... road we've paved to a life of Harmony is not a topic that comes up often, no. Nor do I wish my little ponies to perceive their princesses as..."

"Allpowerful warlords?"

"That is certainly a way to put it." Celestia sighs.
"I apologize, Arnon. I shouldn't have brought you here."

"Huh?" Arnon pauses, confused. Tia stops, looking at him.
"I've known, Celestia. And I don't judge you for it. I could hardly serve as both you and your sister's Advisor if I was unwilling to understand the lives you've lived."

"Are you certain this doesn't bother you?" Celestia presses nonetheless, as Arnon waves a hand dismissively.

"Think it's kind of cool, honestly." Arnon summarizes, deciding it best that he doesn't continue with explaining how he's into powerful women. Not the moment for it.
"Oh, almost forgot to ask. Why all the pink? Didn't see that being your color."

"Before Nightmare Moon's exile, my mane was pink, actually. Some of the older tapestries and artworks still show it, though they're all generations old, or mimicking the older styles. When I used the Elements, their combined power actually shifted my mane. Took a while to get used to, though I'm quite fond of it now. Goodness, that was some time ago."

"Huh." Arnon hums, scratching his chin as he tries to envision it, stepping back and looking over the magical-flame lit Princess.

The Monarch of the Sun, a thousand years prior. A little smaller, a bit younger...

"... I can see it." Arnon concludes, nodding approvingly.

"Hm? See what?" Celestia blinks, tilting her head before realizing he's looking her over. She lifts a back hoof, glancing over herself in confusion.
"Is there something on me?"

...

Though she seemed tentative at first, Arnon's continued interest in each piece that she showed him only continues to rebuild her own excitement, walking a long-forgotten road of memories with somepony. Nearly every display they stop at is accompanied with whatever story she remembers from that time, though just how much varies by how memorable those times were. And with every passing story, Celestia seems to grow more comfortable with the decision -- and Arnon's close proximity, choosing to drape a wing over him several times as they lean close together, walking side by side. As they progress deeper in the long, extended armory, the displays only continue to improve in make and quality, though they grow in distance.

"Ah! This was the first spear I actually felt comfortable wielding. Look at the armor, they hammered out a brace that would fit under my wing, so it could double as a Lance, and somewhere to store it. You'll find that having a place to leave my weapon became a staple of most of my sets, otherwise I might set my weapon down and forget about it." Celestia excitedly explains, pointing out a groove in the side of the armor with her other wing.

"I don't think I've ever actually seen you in armor, other than stuff like your crown. Wait. You'd forget your weapon?" Arnon points out, laughing.

"Oh, all the time. It was my worst habit. Luna would never -- her Halberd never left her grasp, she loves those things to death. But I had a habit of leaning on my magic, and Alicorn capabilities rather than my weapon. I'd get caught up with things, start using more magic, fly around, and at some point, when I finally went to use it, I'd figure out I left it a mile back without realizing!" Celestia's boisterous laugh echoes through the room, joined by Arnon's amusement.

"Alright, now you've got my curiosity. Rank my strength." Arnon suddenly prods, turning to face her.

"What do you mean?"

"When we arm -- or hoof wrestled, or whatever. Rate me."

"Arnon." She stifles a laugh behind her hoof.

"That low, huh? You must be used to going up against some serious monsters. Like..."

But the further they go, more remnants of Celestia'a history rear their head. Notably, something more commonly attributed to the fires of youth.

Trophies.

To say Arnon didn't expect to see a skull mounted on the wall was an understatement. Understandable when he thinks about it, but a bit jarring for the peace-pushing Princess. Judging by how she physically recoils when she looks at it, she feels the same way. It looks like some kind of fantasy-like cyclops skull, long since picked clean and mounted on a stand. The likely culprit attributing to it's demise lays displayed underneath it, a broken spear held on two different stands.

"... Like this guy. Damn, Tia. Skulls for the Sun Throne, huh?" Arnon jokes, thumbing towards it.

"That..." Tia purses her lips. "I'll admit in my youth, I did have a tendency to... brag. Just a touch. I've come to regret such actions, but removing them feels more disrespectful than keeping them." Celestia tries to explain, though it's clearly an awkward topic.

"Well... that's not a bad way to think of it. Rather than be forgotten to history, they're preserved here, to be remembered by the one creature old enough to yet remember them."

"And of the ones I've forgotten?" She asks aloud, staring at the skull.

"...Princess, if I can speak bluntly, you're a pony. Sure, a long-lived sun-controlling horn-and-winged pony, but still a pony. I don't remember what I ate for breakfast yesterday. Who could expect you to remember things that happened five hundred years ago, let alone a thousand? If not longer? Not to mention, you don't need to feel guilt for defending your way of life."

"I'm an Alicorn, Arnon. I should be better. The best, even. A beacon for my little ponies to look up to."

"And being a pony makes you relatable, Alicorn or not. Everyone makes mistakes, and makes choices they'll later come to regret or feel different about. But there's also a scant few who actually live so long they have several lives worth of experiences to retrospect on. Honestly, I find it reassuring that you're willing to fight for your people, for your ideals. In my experience, peace is best kept when the peaceful are willing to defend it, and not just hope that others won't try to take advantage of them." Arnon explains, patting her side as he steps around her, moving to another display.

"You manage to be both a very pessimistic, and a very optimistic creature, Arnon."

"Guess that's what makes me a good Advisor."
Arnon pauses, wiggling a finger.
"...Didn't you keep Discord as a statue in the gardens?"

"...That was so he could be safely observed, in a location that would still allow for some stimulus, so he might not go mad. Though Luna disagreed, and said he deserved little better than being buried upside-down in a hole and left to rot." Celestia snorts. "So no, I've been out of the trophy 'game' for some time, if I can so crudely surmise it."

"Interesting. Luna's concise in her solutions, at least. What did Discord do again to get the stone-nap treatment?"

"Over here." Celestia nods, leading him past a few of the simpler displays, before it reaches one... that definitely speaks to Discord's particular brand. This display holds several stands, and a notable amount of art depicting the situation. Several paintings, vases, tapestries, some damaged and worn, other near-pristine, showing a simplified style that mimicked much of the art around the castle. Well, not mimicked -- the modern style was probably derived from these very kind of works.

Discord, an imposing multi-fanged dragon coiling around the castle, with fair and ruin, as the recognizable ponies of white and blue fur did battle. The scene repeated with many variations across every piece, but all spoke of the same thing. A little hyped up to the Discord he was aware of nowadays, but whose to say these weren't accurate for the time. He was frozen in stone for a reason, after all.

"My sister and I battled Discord for his rule over Equestria, a little over a thousand years ago to this day. We were raised in safety under the tutelage of Starswirl, until we were capable of saving Equestria from his grasp. At Starswirls behest, we took over ruling Equestria as the two Princesses, the lands to never see a King or Queen again. Discord was a cruel, sadistic tyrant who found pleasure in toying with everypony's lives, sowing chaos and reaping the confusion that ensued. I'm still hesitant about his continued freedom, but I fret that attempting his capture would bring more trouble than it's worth. In truth, we barely got him the first time." Celestia admits, squinting at the nearest tapestry. Not hard to see she wasn't Discord's biggest fan, and for good reason.

"Fluttershy does seem to have him on a pretty tight leash these days, at least according to Twilight. But who ruled Equestria before he did?" Arnon asks, curious.

"Their relationship still vexes me, but I've heard much the same thing from Twilight's letters on the subjects, so I choose to believe he has found a new side to himself, lest I need worry about him reclaiming his dominion. Ah, and for your question. The ponies never held a unified, true ruler until my sister and I's rule. The tribes remained divided, with only conquerors and warlords intent on pushing them for their own gain. Luna and I pushed them to live in harmony, and to aid each-other with their unique gifts."

"I remember reading about that. Three tribes at first, right? But now you guys have little fairy ponies, sea ponies, dragon ponies..." Arnon starts listing off. For the most part, they all got along surprisingly well, considering how history books enjoyed noting just how much the ponies didn't used to like each other.

"Indeed. I'm glad Twilight was so willing to assist you in learning of our worlds knowledge, and that you were as eager to learn." Celestia hums, smiling at him.

"Well, when she wasn't shoveling books down my throat, she had me sit with the squirts at the Schoolhouse. Still think naptime was the best part of the day, but I learned a fair chunk of how this place works." Arnon reminisces, tapping his chin.

"Need I ask if Twilight was curious as to your home?" Celestia grins.

"Psh. I bet you remember the letters she sent --" Arnon goes to start, but Celestia laughs.

"-- Complaining that you weren't giving up as much information as she wanted. Yes, I do remember those. I believe they were the reason that we initially invited you to Canterlot, to see if a change of scenery might induce your cooperation."

"Well, it certainly worked in some capacity." Arnon chuffs, bumping hips with Celestia as they walk side-by-side.
"Got me to open right up."

"And I am glad it did. Without your arrival, I would not have these 'Sun-Days' to enjoy." Celestia bumps him right back, smiling.

"Right, you're just happy for the day off." Arnon rolls his eyes, nearly stumbling from the impact. White horse forgets just how much hip she's swinging, that thing's a weapon.

"Well, it wouldn't be nearly as enjoyable without a certain some-pony. Or... some-one, as you say." Celestia says, though it soon turns to mumbles as her nose presses through his hair, leaning close.
"I remember thinking what an odd creature you were the first day I met you."

"Oh, uh..." Arnon's lip purses. No funny rebuttal comes to mind. Just the face a softly smiling Celestia as she pulls away, leading him further down the hall again.

After Discord's little display, the Armory takes a stark shift. There's a few other sets of note, some armor, one extremely fanciful that Celestia informs him was the ceremonial armor of their rule, and a few defenses from curious, conquests neighbors, before it nearly empties.

There's but a single, sad tapestry that marks the last time pink shows itself as one of the main colors, before taking on the white-and-gold leaning of the aurora-like colors of today's Tia.

"Kind of a stark transition, but I can see the change in color palette." Arnon notes. This display has several feet of open display around it, given a wide birth by everything else in the Armory.

It's a simple design. A small, white pony stares up at the moon. Arnon can guess the accredited incident without much issue; the time that Celestia had to banish her own sister.

"The day I exiled Nightmare Moon, there was no armor. No weapons. Not for me, anyway. It was... sudden, and harsh. She burst through the Castle after we had an argument, and I hardly recognized her. If I was to put something here... no, the Elements belong where they are, and this is not a place of display. The gap is purposeful, and shows only my shame for not being able to save my sister."

Even after a thousand years, she still looks torn up about it. She keeps her composure well, but it's a difficult topic that brings a lot of grief. She maintains a stiff lip, taking a steadying breath.
"But this is a topic I'm sure you're familiar with enough already. Shall we continue?"

"If you need a moment..." Arnon tries to offer, but Celestia shakes her head.

"I'm alright. That's kind of you, Arnon, but I've had a long time to think over my failings. I don't need to spend any more time doing so, not when my sister is returned to me. It would be unfair to her." Celestia shakes her head, but still offers a weak smile.
"Your concern is appreciated, however. I'd love to show you the rest of this place, but..."

As her words trail off, Arnon follows her gaze. From the way the displays are set, and how spaced out they are once they pass this portion dedicated to Nightmare Moon, Celestia lost interest in maintaining her own Armory. There's a few pieces, a few armor parts, weapons, but it looks like it becomes a storage rather than a proud display of her belongings.

"What I am still proud to keep it nestled within the Castle for other ponies to see, as they often make things for me, and it would be rude to bury them away. But I have not added to this place in a long time... I think at least five hundred years have gone since I last set hoof in this place." Celestia explains, turning back the way they came, the magical torch-light that leads to the rest of the empty hall starting to snuff out behind her.

Not keen on getting left in the dark, Arnon quickly catches back up to her, walking beside the Princess.
"Your stance on taking trophies hasn't changed, has it?"

"Mm?"

"Oh just checking that you didn't bring me here to put me on one of your displays."

"And would that be such a bad thing?"

"Well, not if you visit, I guess. If you do want to stuff and mount me on one of the walls, I'd prefer one upstairs."

Celestia's lips purse. She stifles a snort-laugh, shaking her head.

"What?" Arnon goads. No dice, she shakes her head.
"You can't laugh at something and not tell me."

"Forgive me, I just found something amusing." Celestia eventually offers, though still being vague about it.

"And?"

"It... would not be appropriate for me to say."

"... Really."

"Scandalous, as you said prior. And wholly inappropriate for a Princess to find amusing."

"Oh, now I've gotta know."

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Mmnope."

Celestia sighs, rolling her eyes.
"Are you certain?"

"Absolutely." Arnon proclaims, crossing his arm for emphasis. It's a little awkward to fit over the cast, but the point is made.

"...Very well, I'll indulge you for taking the time to listen to an old mare's tales." Celestia sighs, shaking her head. She turns, stepping closer to lean beside his ear, whispering.
"You're not the only one thinking about getting stuffed and mounted."
Each word is enunciated slowly and deliberately, followed by a dangerously half-lidded stare.

Arnon purses his lips, staring forward.
"Ah. I see."

"Does that handle the issue of... mixed signals?" She asks, leaning ever so slightly closer, her snout nearly brushing his skin.

"I suppose it does." Arnon agrees, stealing a quick side-glance.

"Wonderful. Now, all this reminiscing... I'm feeling quite peckish. In the mood for lunch, my dear Advisor?" Celestia smiles, returning to her far less haughty demeanor.

"Uh... yeah, sure. I'm not on the menu, right? Just to be clear." Arnon tries to joke, but freezes as Tia leans close again.

Very slowly, she looks him over, from toe to tip with half-lidded eyes that linger over him, before biting her lip.

"No, but you'd make a deeply enjoyable substitute for dessert." She whispers, staring into his eyes.

Arnon audibly gulps, getting a laugh out of Celestia as she turns, trotting back the way they came.

"Too much?" Tia calls back.

"...Maybe a little." Arnon shakes himself out of it, jogging to catch up.

"Careful how close you plan to fly to the Sun, my dear Advisor." She says over her shoulder, ever maintaining that playful, cheeky smile.

Well, until he grabs her cheeks, and pulls her into a sudden kiss that startles the Alicorn, their lips pressed together for but a moment before he pulls away, walking backwards.

"And how will I know when I've gotten too close?" Arnon goads, smiling back. His own heart was thundering in his chest after such a move, wondering if it was the right play or if he just badly messed up.

This is probably the part where she'd add a witty comeback, but judging by how Tia's eyes are wide open, her fur is bristling and her wings are nearly straight, stood stock still, it caught her off guard at the least.

The two may have leaned a little too heavily on the flirting, if so much as a simple kiss could put them both on the backfoot. Or backhoof.

Without another word, Celestia suddenly closes the distance as the torches completely snuff out, plunging them both into darkness. Arnon can hardly muster a startled noise, the sound of hooves against stone get close, before he feels sturdy wings wrap around him, and the warmth of a furred chest pressed to his. Soft, wanting lips press firmly against his own, surprising Arnon with their warmth, their softness, as they pushed with surprising force against him. He'd only felt it a moment when he kissed her, but the way Celestia kissed him came with an entirely different capacity of passion. And with a surprising degree of sloppiness, the wetness surprising him.

In the dark, it's impossible to see her, leaving them both to only one carnal sensation. Touch. His hands slowly reach for her in the black depths of the unlit room, meeting her neck's impossibly soft fur. He can feel her twitch at his touch, which only inspires her to redouble her efforts, leaving Arnon to wonder what they might taste like after lunch, if he could dare hope a repeat of this sudden moment.

Only the waning breath in his chest gave him any idea of how long they'd been entangled, his senses deprived in the dark. His lungs start to burn, and as much as he wants the moment to continue -- he taps Celestia's side with a hand.

"Mm--Moh!" She mumbles in surprise into his mouth, before quickly pulling away, a string of saliva snapping between them as they do.

About what he should expect, kissing a horse. He wipes his mouth with a sleeve as he gasps for breath, though they remain in close proximity, Celestia's large wings holding him firm.

"Sorry, Arnon. Alicorn lungs. I just got excited. I think. Sorry. Are you alright?" She quickly rambles, worry in her tone.

Her horn glows softly again, bathing them both in a warm light that reveals the concern written across her face.

"Yeah, yeah, fine. Just needed a second." Arnon manages.

"I just can't seem to stop causing you trouble, huh?" Celestia smiles weakly.

"God, cause me trouble any day, woman." Arnon bluntly retorts, surprising her as he pulls her into another messy kiss the moment he's had a chance to breathe.

The dark halls of Celestia's armory holds the pair for some time, some of the staff concerned when Princess Celestia, most notable for her love of food, is late to lunch. Not many notice just how close the pair sit when they do arrive for their meal, though.

Author's Note

i love white horse