Royal Workhorse

“That was a most enjoyable outburst, Tia,” Luna remarked sometime later as they ascended the staircase to Celestia's sleeping quarters.

“Enjoy it while you can,” Tia replied, “Next time, I'm going to get you. And I can assure you it will be many times more embarrassing.”

“Bring it on, sister,” Luna said, smirking, “Just remember how I won our last war.”

Luna had rounded up a few stray engineers to come and modify Celestia's throne, rigging it to drop a barrage of cloud cake on her right as she sat down.

Celestia added, “It's just a shame I was playing host to a prestigious group of delegates from the Gryphon Kingdom at the time.”

“I thought the gryphons were known for their love of sweets.”

“Only when they are decorating it. Not the other way around.”

Luna snickered and followed her sister into her room. Celestia quickly removed her brace and crown, taking the moment to slide into a comfortable pair of slippers as well.

“So how was your day, little sister?”

“My journey across the 'pond', as you all have deemed it, was a long one, but on the way home I stopped on a pleasant little island to enjoy the scenery. It looked abandoned, save for a few semi-sentient lifeforms. I laid on the warm sand for a while and watched the turtles go by. It was relaxing, to say the least.”

The chess board on the balcony was already set up for them. Celestia took her side facing the west, where the sun hung low in the sky, and Luna took the opposite side, facing the direction she would raise the moon from.

She continued, “I have a special stop scheduled in Baltimare just after sunset, followed by a meeting with the mayor of San Flanksisko; he's been too sick to make the trip out here.

She looked down on the pieces with a frown. “Something has been bothering me, sister,” she said, “Why are all my pieces made of green stone? Where are the black pieces I used to play with?”

Celestia didn't answer right away. When she did, she spoke very slowly. “I thought it a bit inconsiderate to force you to play such a color now. Black simply invokes darkness too well to be a comfortable shade.”

“So instead of asking me about it you simply took it upon yourself to change it for me.” It wasn't a question, and it wasn't so much an accusation as it was an observation, but it stung all the same.

“Luna…” Celestia trailed off, unsure of what to say. It was true she had gone behind her sister's back, but this was hardly the first occasion. If Luna knew of all the things that Celestia did to protect her… not everypony was as forgiving as they should be. And she knew that Luna was always her own harshest critic. So to make her play a game with a constant reminder of the very darkness that had consumed her?

“It just made sense at the time to do,” she finished.

Luna's eyes narrowed briefly, but in suspicion and not anger. “Well,” she said, “I expect to have my favorite set of black pieces returned to me by tomorrow evening. They are my lucky pieces.”

Thankfully dropping the matter, she continued, “Tomorrow morning I have to make a – oh, what's the phrase? – a 'mad dash' to Seaddle to christen a new ship; they're naming it Starlight in my honor, on account of how I helped divert that tidal wave a few months back. They really are being too kind, but it would be rude to say no.” She took a deep breath, finishing, “And that is all on top of my duties as Dreamweaver. I can assure you, sister, that it is a good thing all this effort is worth it.”

“And is there a stop to a certain young colt named Pipqueak in those travels, sister?”

“You tease me most harshly, sister.”

“Just having a little fun,” Celestia insisted, moving her first pawn.

The shadows grew longer as the game progressed, and conversation ceased. Pawn after pawn was taken, as well as knights and rooks and bishops. Both players charged forward with their Princess piece on numerous occasions, it being the only one with unlimited movement in either direction, and jealously guarded the Queens, the protection of which the entire game rested upon.

Finally, through a clever trick with her remaining bishop, Celestia was able to push Luna's Princess into her knight's path, and took it in a turn. But, while a thousand years out of practice, Luna was no amateur at the game. Through a bold move, she had sacrificed her Princess to get a clear shot at her sister's Queen.

“Checkmate!” she cried, jumping up and waving her arms in glorious triumph. Then, realizing what she had done, she blushed and sat back down. Celestia only chuckled and swept the pieces into a fabric pouch.

“Good job,” she said, “I guess you don't need your lucky pieces after all.”

“I would still like them back.” It was delivered in an absent-minded tone, but Celestia thought she heard a hint of deeper criticism behind it.

“Very well,” she said, “I'll have them for you tomorrow.”

“Much appreciated. Now, I believe we have a sun to move.”

“You mean I have a sun to move,” Celestia told her, standing up and walking to the edge of the balcony.

“I've thought more about your offer,” Luna replied, “You go ahead and take that vacation. I think I can handle things around here for a thousand years or so.”

Celestia just rolled her eyes and grabbed the sun in her magic. It felt heavy and tired, worn out from spreading its energy across her world. It wanted rest. She would oblige.

She guided it slowly down the horizon, in hopes that as many ponies as possible would be able to sit in the glamour of the evening hues. Behind her, Luna was raising the moon, but without the same delicate care. Moonrise did not have the elegant spectacle that the sun demanded; it was too pragmatic for that.

Finally, it was done. The sun was resting beyond the horizon and, as she let it go, Celestia felt her own energy wither and die as well. It was time to sleep. She barely had time to respond to Luna's quick farewell before her younger sister was off to do her nighttime duties.

With a yawn, she slid back inside and pulled the balcony doors shut behind her. Without the energy to leap onto her bed, she slowly pulled herself up and crawled to the mass of pillows at its head. Sliding beneath the covers, she snuggled up with the softest pillow and closed her eyes.

The sound of flames jolted her awake. She glanced around just in time to see a small scroll land on the floor. Picking it up with her magic, she brought it over to her and considered the ramifications of just leaving it until the next day. But she'd probably forget, so she unraveled it and quickly glanced over her student's assistant's scrawl.

Dear Princess Celestia, it read…

Ever since moving to Ponyville, I've begun to experience a lot more physical activity. Sometimes it can be

incredibly hard work, but, as I learned just recently while helping to organize the town fair, all that hard

work pays off in the end. And the harder the task you set yourself, be it physical labor or even just a

particularly difficult research project, the better you feel for having accomplished it, especially when your

helping those around you in the process.

Your faithful student,

Twilight Sparkle

Celestia reread the letter a couple of times, letting it sink in. Then, smiling at her student's discovery, she laid the note aside and curled up to go to sleep, a little bit happier than when she first laid down.

Her sleep that night seemed a little more restful than usual.