“Auntie, can you play this game with me?”
He’d received such an outwardly modest gift.
“Do you know how to play, dear?”
And made a simple request.
“Daddy taught me!”
But it was everything.
“Ah. Of course he did.”
And it had led to this.
Blueblood entered Princess Celestia’s throne room with a degree of candor reserved for this very day.
“AUNTIE!”
And the Summer Sun Celebration. And the occasional Grand Galloping Gala. And daily outings to Canterlot.
It was a versatile sense of candor.
The massive doors whirled inward on screaming hinges. The guards ahead and behind peered into the doorway, their stoic visages disturbed by erupting eyes. No doubt, they were awed by the princely charm of his entrance.
Blueblood beckoned Princess Celestia’s eyes from the supplicant petitioning her. As if several sunbeams were dancing overhead, he proudly posed, his head held high.
He felt the mares staring.
“...Princess? Should I go?”
“That may be best. Thank you for bringing this to court—”
“Auntie...”
“While I must cut this short—”
“Auuuntie.”
“—I do look forward to our later rapport.”
Catching Blueblood’s eye, the petitioner winced.
“T-Thank you, Princess Celestia.”
As she bowed her way out, Blueblood didn’t miss a step; he brushed past, hurrying forward with thunderous stomps.
“Hello—”
“The time has come!”
“So soon, dear?”
Blueblood’s face grew grave.
“I am ready, Auntie.”
Celestia took a deep breath, nodded, and turned to address the others in the room. “Miss Inkwell, please arrange that proposal for later review. Guards, my nephew and I require privacy.”
Only ancient marble columns stayed to preside.
Celestia rose from her throne, and Blueblood eagerly stepped aside. With a magnificent flash, and a scattering of beaming light, Celestia willed forth a low wooden table (prudently outfitted with a stocked royal tea set), and two cushions. They alighted delicately on the floor between her and Blueblood.
Celestia placed herself down, and served two cups of warm tea.
Blueblood levitated a silk bag of accoutrements from his withers, and promptly dumped the contents out on the table.
The table: beset by a chess set.
“Blueblood, I... well, wish to say that I have enjoyed our time.”
Clink.
“But must we use the hourglass? May we not enjoy our time for once?”
“No! This is serious, Auntie!”
“...Very well. Your usual rules?”
“Yes!”
Blueblood could barely hear the following words.
One game. One minute. One victor.
Celestia: white. Blueblood: black.
“Happy birthday, Blueblood.”
He motioned wordlessly for Celestia. She tittered behind a hoof, just as magic spun the hourglass. The sands of time began to pour.
The game was on.
Immediately, Blueblood was left reeling; he watched Celestia move a pawn into the makings of a classic Rye-Alfalfa opening.
“Don’t make this easy, Auntie! Play seriously!”
Celestia giggled.
Blueblood simmered, but he dared not speak out. Surely, she wasn’t just ‘having fun’. He had spent half his lifetime—notably, not a millennia—in concentrated study of the game, unwilling to grant a celestial victory today. Without a challenge, it would be a hollow victory.
Fine. He countered with a Halihoof defense.
The alicorn and the unicorn fought swiftly; the sands ticked down, positions shifting in flickering glints of magic. Now, Celestia bore her unreadable expression, a mask that spoke to her divine abilities in both the realm of the court, and the Great Game.
Despite that, he‘d best her, though—
...A ‘Dragon Attack’?! How could she have...?
Blueblood hesitated.
There, the dragon’s maw. Darkness.
He yielded, taciturn.
Turns later, Celestia sighed, relieved. She faced the hourglass. “Time, Blueblood.”
Blueblood stared at the board’s final positions, utterly defunct.
Celestia cocked her head. “Who won?”
“...You are the victor, Auntie.”
He conceded with a bowed neck.
“Oh. Well, how did that happen?”
And Blueblood turned red.
Tea and coffee poured slow, and fickle. Two sisters, regal in peytrals and posture, sat upon perfect velvet cushions. Before them: a board, and pieces.
Celestia: white. Luna: black.
Luna spoke before Celestia’s opening move, jovial behind her mug of black. “I must admit, sister, it amused me greatly to hear that you’ve grown wise in the game of chess!”
Celestia sipped at her white teacup with her own smile. “Is that so?”
Magic twinkled. A white pawn sallied forth.
“Do you not recall attending many tourneys and trials at my request?”
A black pawn.
“Ah. I do.” Celestia paused, then frowned. “Yes...”
Another white pawn.
Luna furrowed her brows, still smiling. “Old days! A poor player was you. But now, our nephew hails you a grandmaster! I am eager to embrace the challenge of one who has perfected the Great Game for a thousand years.”
Luna froze. The world, too.
“I admire your enthusiasm, Luna.”
Luna glanced up, and her horn glowed bright.
The black queen moved.
“...Checkmate.” Luna‘s eyes filled with confusion, and betrayal. “Tia?”
“There are a great many things I have cultivated in your absence.” Celestia smirked behind her teacup. “I maintain my disdain toward chess.”
“You never learned?”
“No.”
“Then... what of our nephew’s... ramblings?”
The question hung, momentarily amid eternity.
“Should you spend the time I have, you’ll find that—while prone to misbehavior—our nephew is rather gifted.” Celestia’s words were as warm and loving as her cup of tea. “And Blueblood loves being mentally challenged.”
“I... sister, if you lack the knowledge, then how did you...?”
“His strategic mishaps are perhaps on par with his social misplays.”
“...Ah. This explains the way he... ‘spoke’, of you.”
“Rage as he will, the games keep him happy, and his mind elsewhere.”
“Is there no decisive end to his troublemaking, otherwise?”
“The nobles’ parliament once proposed a unanimous solution. Banishment.”
“Oh, sister...”
“I refused. I saw you in the place of Blueblood, supported by common behaviors and tastes.”
“Truly?”
“Of course. And so, I waited.” Celestia glanced at Luna’s chess set. “Because banishment is merely a temporary solution to such headaches.”
“...Next time, refusing to play would suffice.”
“Unfortunately, ignoring family and saying ‘no’ has a habit of destroying Equestrian castles.”
