But the Sun Refused to Set

Luna sat at an ornate ash-wood desk that was slightly too big, in a room that was slightly too small. Newspapers covered the desk and extended onto the nearby walls, slowly growing like an active spiderweb. The room had only a slight red tint thanks to her excellent black-out curtain. Most of the room’s light came from the two black lamp posts near her bed.

Her bed. When she had first arrived back in Canterlot, she was utterly mortified to learn that Celestia had commissioned a bed shaped like an enormous crescent moon for her to sleep in. It’s not that it was tacky. In fact, the bed was well designed, for what it was. The holly lumber made for a clear, pearl white, and the dark blue accents provided a pleasant contrast. One might reasonably assume that her objection was to sleeping in a symbol of her thousand-year prison, and it did irritate her that Celestia clearly hadn’t even considered that, but even that wasn’t quite it. It just seemed childish, like a grown mare sleeping in a horseshoe bed. Besides, could Celestia not think of anything else that she liked other than the moon and the stars?

That said, she would happily settle for a horseshoe bed if it meant that she could go back to sleep. Unfortunately, crises are usually poor times for rulers to get beauty sleep, and there she was, intently studying the dozens of newspapers on and around her desk for anything that might stand out. A light knock at the door interrupted her reverie.

“Come in, Tia.” Luna flinched as the door opened wide, and Celestia ambled into the room. “Tia, the light.”

Celestia closed the door. “Your room is so dark I can barely see anything.”

Luna sighed as she turned to face Celestia. “What do you need?”

A white porcelain teacup floated down onto her desk. “Just checking on your progress.”

Luna sipped from the teacup. “I’ve scoured every newspaper, visited a dozen ponies from across Equestria, even analyzed the positions of the stars, and yet I’ve gotten no closer to reading the sign. Believe me, Tia, the moment I have a breakthrough, you will be the first to know.”

Celestia nuzzled her face. “Thank you, Luna. As always, you shine where I do not.”

“I should rather sleep than shine.” Luna muttered.

Celestia laughed. “I would do it myself, but I suspect my efforts would be wasted. Well, that, and somepony needs to keep the nobles from killing each other.”

“Quite.”

Celestia walked to the door. “Well, the sooner you figure this out, the sooner you can go to sleep, so I’ll let you get back to it. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

“Thank you, Tia.”

* * *

Spike and Sunset sat in silence.

“So…”

“We're not leaving this library until Twilight gets back.”

Spike sunk in his chair. “This sucks.”

Sunset gave him a weak smile. “Sorry kiddo, but I don't make the rules.”

Spike sighed. “I know. I'm just sick of being treated like a kid, ya know.”

Sunset cringed. “Sorry, Spike… I know what you mean. Celestia always treated me like a disobedient child, even after my teenage years. She didn't even take me seriously when I threatened to return one day to take Canterlot Castle. She just told me to come back soon.”

Spike laughed. “I mean, Celestia is immortal. She probably sees everybody as children.”

“Probably,” Sunset agreed. “That didn't make it any less infuriating.” Sunset smirked. “Besides, I think Twilight is immortal now, too, so if that’s all it takes…”

Spike shook his head. “Trust me, she’s been like this since she was a filly. She doesn’t need immortality to treat me like a baby.”

Sunset raised an eyebrow. “Wait, how old was Twilight when you were born?”

“She had just graduated from magic kindergarten.”

Sunset looked Spike up and down. “Seriously?”

Spike shrugged. “Dragons age more slowly than ponies.”

“Of course. I guess I hadn't thought that the difference was so… substantial. But then that would mean that you're almost as old as Twilight.”

“Trust me, I've pointed that out to her before. She tries to do better, but she's almost always back to treating me like a kid within a week.”

Sunset was silent for a moment. “Why do you think that is?”

He shrugged. “It's how she’s treated me ever since she hatched me. When I was young, her constant worrying was helpful. Pony society lacks things that dragons need. We need different foods, medicines, exercises, and schooling. She was constantly studying to protect me from dangers that most ponies would never even think about. Unfortunately, her habit of worrying about me is hard to break.”

Sunset raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t her parents take care of you while she was a foal?”

“Sort of. They made sure that Twilight and I had a roof over our heads, but they had full-time jobs. They didn't have time to dig through the Canterlot Archives trying to figure out, for example, the long-term effects of using unicorn magic on dragons. Fortunately, Twilight loves books so much that they didn’t need to.”

“What about Celestia? Didn't she help?”

“To be honest, I don't think it ever occurred to her that anypony might hatch the dragon egg. Without a dragon to incubate me, I wouldn't have hatched naturally for another century.”

Sunset sniggered. “Figures. Wait, if that’s the case, then how in the world did Twilight hatch you?”

“Her magic was supercharged by a Sonic Rainboom.”

“Huh. I read about Sonic Rainbooms while I was studying under Celestia, but neither she nor the books ever mentioned that they can supercharge magic.”

“Normally, I don’t think they can. I know Rainbow has made more Sonic Rainbooms since the first one, but I never heard anything about them supercharging magic. Maybe it had something to do with all the girls getting their cutie marks at the same time.”

“Maybe, Spike.” Sunset scratched her chin. “Maybe.”