Chapters Princess Celestia was painfully aware she was in a dream. As much as she wanted to believe it, sitting with the two-hundred-year-dead mayor of Hoofington in a modern-day theater simply wasn't realistic. They were watching Pinkie Pie on the screen doing some wonderful tricks, but the Princess could feel her eyes tightly shut. No matter, she was more interested in hearing what her dear old friend had to say than what was on the screen. Even though his words echoed in her mind, none of them truly passed through her ears to begin with. She ached to hear his voice again, just this once. Why couldn't she have just this one time?
The magic pulling at her horn, a magic older and more powerful than even her, told her that she must raise the sun instead. She tried to ignore it, to turn away from it, but for every second she delayed it only tugged harder. She covered her head with a pillow, hoping to block its signal. The theater was fading. What had the mayor just said? What was that final message she never got to hear, too delicate for the written word?
And then it was gone. Her eyes were open and she would never get to hear what he had said.
Despite her size, the Princess' bed was too big for her. Even with her limbs fully spread out as they were, she couldn't reach from side to side. With a flick of her magic, she pulled the pillow off of her face and tossed it across the room. No need to go get it, she had six others that she slept with already.
Groggily, she pulled herself out of bed and stretched her limbs. The sun was still calling to her fondly, and it's pull only got stronger the more she delayed. But the Princess had not spent over a thousand years simply giving into the sun's commands – she was the ruler of this plane, and she would take all the time she pleased.
Taking only a moment to glance at her tattered mane and bloodshot eyes in the mirror, Celestia pulled open the large glass double-doors to her balcony. Standing out there was a silhouette, standing tall and patient in the dying moonlight. When the elder Princess stepped outside and came closer, she could see that Luna herself looked ready for a good rest.
But at Celestia's approach, Luna only smiled and asked, “Sleep well, my sister? If you need your beauty sleep, I believe I am fully capable of handling your morning duties.”
Celestia was quick to respond. “Maybe you're right. After all, I've been doing both our jobs for a thousand years; I could use a vacation to the moon for a while. You raise the sun, I'll begin packing.”
The sun was practically screaming at her now, demanding – like a child – to be let up so it could gaze across Equestria. Deciding not to delay any longer, Celestia took a place next to her sister and asked, “Ready?” Luna nodded and began summoning her own magic to lower the moon.
Celestia turned her attention to the sun and closed her eyes. It was a simple task. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the ill-tempered fireball with her magic and began pulling. Keeping her breath steady, she moved the sun along a straight, well-defined line, the same one for over a thousand years. It had to be exact every day, otherwise there would be too much or too little sunlight for this time of year or, worse yet, complaints from the court astronomers.
Sunlight broke the horizon, and as soon as those delicate rays fell on Celestia she began to feel something stir within. She felt more rested, stronger, more sure of herself. She opened her eyes to follow its progress, a small disk of immense power. How few ponies would ever know the true strength that it held back in order to keep from consuming them in its passion and rage? Her heart began to pound faster and faster as it ascended, and when the orb was fully over the horizon a burst of ecstasy flowed through her, turning her knees to jello. She wasn't just awake, she was alive!
Celestia let go, allowing the sun to rest where it was for now. The pull on her horn was gone; they had reached a point of mutual satisfaction. Grinning, the Princess turned to Luna, who was sporting a slight smile of her own.
“You look better,” she observed.
“And you look as awake as ever,” Celestia replied, turning to walk back in, “How is it that you can go so many hours at a time without sleep?”
Luna answered as she followed the elder Princess down the wide tower staircase, “It's all about timing, sister. I have several strategic naps placed appropriately throughout the day to keep my energy levels up when I need them, as I work both day and night.”
“Indeed!” Celestia laughed, “I would surely love to pitch the idea to my advisors. I wonder, if I napped in the day, do you think the sun would darken without me to keep it in check?”
“Perhaps. After all, many of the stars did stray from their course in my absence.”
“I was just never as good with them as you were.”
“Nor shall you ever be, Tia.”
Celestia gave her sister a playful shove, and in reply Luna simply stuck her tongue out at her. The two broke out into a fit of giggles before Celestia took off at a swift trot down the rest of the stairs.
“Hurry up, slowpoke!” she called back, “Breakfast won't wait forever!”'
But it would wait for them. And Luna knew it would wait for them, being one of the only things that did. Yet she still took after her sister, laughing along with her as they ran as fast as they could through the halls of the residential wing. Had anypony's schedule allowed them to sleep past sunrise, they would have had a rather rude awakening as two full grown horses trampled through the halls laughing at the top of their lungs.
***
They had settled down long before reaching the dining hall. Two assistants were already waiting there for Princess Celestia, who failed to suppress a sigh at the sight of them. Luna raised an eyebrow at her response, but said nothing. Tia took her seat at the head of the table, and Luna, instead of walking the eight to ten yards to the other side of the extended table and taking the seat specially designated for her, settled into the spot just to her right.
The chef must have known they were coming, because no sooner had Luna's hide touched the pillow that the door to the kitchen burst open revealing a pony pushing a cart with two trays. The sisters acknowledged his presence, but continued their discussion in spite of the food now present.
Luna continued describing some of the dreams she had seen the night before. “And poor Wuthering Heights, she never really recovered from her incident last spring. Continues having nightmares about falling, and that sound – that terrible whooshing sound as she falls. She can't even hear me over the sound. I'm useless to her.”
“You're never useless, my dear,” Celestia cooed, glancing worriedly at the first of her assistants began stepping forward. Cautiously, she picked up a fork, one of three distinct forks laid before her – as if she cared which fork was the appropriate tool to use for her breakfast entrée – with her magic and began funneling the breakfast into her mouth.
“I know, my sister,” Luna replied, “But some cases are tougher than others.”
Celestia's aid leaned in and whispered something into her ear. The Princess pretended to listen to her, not particularly interested in the supposed tension between the rhino tribes and the Gryphon Empire. Why any creature would give up their horn to be powdered and sold in the first place was beyond her, let alone why they would allow the griffins sole trading rights.
Luna took another bite of her own meal and said, “Some of the guards have complained about their armor failing, I hear.”
“Is that so?” Celestia asked, her first aid stepping away so the second could take her place. A brief glance towards the door showed two newly arrived ponies standing near the doorway waiting for their own turn.
“They didn't come to me directly, of course, but I had the foresight to look into it personally. They believed it to be related to the condensation of morning dew, and the spells to protect against such rusting did not help as much as they had hoped.”
Celestia nodded to show she was listening and then immediately turned away to hear what her assistant had to say. Luna sighed and returned to her meal, chancing a look at the door herself to see yet another three ponies that she could swear hadn't been there a moment ago.
And by the time the assistants stopped coming Luna's plate had been emptied and whisked away. Occasionally Tia would turn to her and mention something, but it was only little nothings that were meant to assure Luna that her sister cared enough to pay attention. At some point Luna simply stole the rest of her sister's meal. After all, she'd had a long night, and it's not like her sister had the opportunity to pick her fork up again.
Fortunately there were no eager aids standing in the halls when they left. Once they were safely away from unwanted ears, Luna let out a little burp.
“Nasty!” Celestia cried out, wrinkling her nose.
“Ha! Do not feign innocence at me, Tia” Luna scolded, “I've seen you spit into that favorite potted plant of yours when you thought nopony was looking.”
“Prove it.”
“Nay. I think I shall retire for the morning. I have a meeting I need to be well-rested for.”
“One of those 'strategic naps' of yours?”
“Indeed it is.”
The two sisters parted ways and returned to their respective towers. When Celestia opened the door to her room she could feel her warm and soft bed beckoning to her, the same as every morning. With a sigh she turned from it and towards the bathroom.
How to Ignore your Morning Duties
When she stepped away from the vanity, Celestia had her hair and makeup done and the heavy golden brace around her neck. The crown rested firmly where it always had, right behind her horn, where it dug firmly into her scalp.
All dressed up in chains, she donned her golden shoes and let them bind her to the floor. Metaphorically, that is; even the brace itself wasn't heavy enough to keep her grounded. And pegasus-made footwear wasn't exactly known for its grip anyway. Any other pony wearing them would have a tendency to slide around everywhere.
Yet the Princess walked with a practiced grace and poise down the halls until she reached the throne room. It was a long room, with a large golden dais upon which her throne rested. The red carpet was worn from years of use, a reminder of all the years she'd spent in this chamber.
The view coming in was a lot better than the view from the throne itself. All she got to look at for hours on end was the far wall and door. To counter the boredom, Celestia had long ago ordered that elaborate tapestries be arranged on the far wall for her to study. But even though she had many such tapestries and had them changed frequently, she quickly grew disinterested in the distractions.
But mornings were not a time to be entertaining boredom. For six hundred years, she had allowed the citizens of Equestria to write in letters to her so she could read all about their anxieties. What good was a ruler who could not pay attention to the needs of even her most meager subjects, after all?
A while later she put away the final letter of that morning, from a nice stallion in the west who feared that the summer water regulations would take a toll on his crops, and turned to face the latest arrival.
“Hello Puzzlemint,” she said softly.
“Good day, Princess,” her closest advisor replied, “I wanted to greet you personally before I began my vacation, so I brought you this.” She pulled out a letter, closed by a familiar wax seal.
“My dear,” Celestia cooed, “You can visit me whenever you please. I am not one to hold my subjects to such formalities.”
“I am well aware,” Puzzlemint replied, retaining her official demeanor, “I wish you the best of luck while I'm gone.”
“How will I ever manage without you?” Celestia replied half-mockingly.
“Not very well, I should think.”
She swiftly turned and trotted away. Celestia had glanced up immediately, but couldn't be sure if she had seen a quick smile forming on Puzzlemint's lips or not.
Grinning herself at Puzzlemint's behavior, Celestia picked the letter up in her magic and inspected it. Carefully breaking the seal, she opened it and read the familiar script of the dignitary's scribe. Apparently the representative had found his accommodations suitable and was looking forward to the next day's meeting.
The princess groaned and let the letter fall. Not this again. She knew, as did the delegate himself, that their issues would not be solved in a mere two hours. Ponies and donkeys may be considered equals, but a border was still a border, and neither her nor the United Triple Alliance was willing to give up an inch of the rich mountain territories they fought over. She was just going to have to go all the way to Tenochtitlan itself in order to speak with their head of state about this.
In the meantime, how long would it take before her and the representative reached a mutual understanding? Twenty minutes… ten? What would they talk about for two hours? He would do his job and stay for the full appointed time. The phrase was “stubborn as a mule”, but she'd never met a donkey that wouldn't have it his way. Kind of the origin of this very dispute, actually. It's not like they needed the land, they just felt cheated out of it; it was their fault for squandering the payment she'd given them.
Well, idle hooves were Discord's playthings, and she had too much work to waste time lamenting on what could no longer be changed. Her power could only send the sun forward, after all. So she called up another assistant.
“Yes, your Majesty?” the young mare asked.
Celestia thought for a moment, but couldn't remember the mare's name. “You're new around here, are you?” she asked. The young assistant nodded in reply. Celestia asked, “Would you then tell me your name? I prefer to address my subjects by name.”
“My name…” she seemed terrified at the prospect of speaking directly to the Princess. Celestia had to suppress a smile at the memory of a young Puzzlemint behaving the exact same way. “My name is Woven Reed.”
“Oh, are you a basket weaver?” Celestia asked, craning to get a look at Woven Reed's cutie mark.
“Um… no, your Highness,” she replied, unconsciously shirking from Celestia's gaze, “I-I've always wanted to make little reed figurines, but… I…”
“That sounds delightful,” the Princess told her, “Have you much practice?”
“Um… no, actually, you see… my mother, she said I should stick to what I know, that there was no market for my figures. But I was never any good at weaving, you see, I always wanted to build. I even got a cutie mark in sculpting, kinda, but my mother…”
Her ears drooped at the frown spreading across Celestia's muzzle. What the monarch said next, though, surprised her.
“Tell you what,” Celestia offered, “How about you go bring me the reports I have to look through this morning, don't forget to bring me a pad I can write on, and then you take the rest of the day off, go home, and start working on your figurines. In a thousand years, it is one thing I have yet to see, and I would not be doing my duty to ignore a potentially new form of art.”
It was a half-lie. Wooden figurines like that had existed once in Equestria, but it was mostly before Celestia's rule. Few had survived the thousand years since then; she only knew of five, and one was sitting in her room upstairs. But it was also something that Celestia would love to see make a resurgence.
Of course, that could have just been nostalgia taking hold. It had screwed her over more than once before. For an immortal to get caught up in wishing for the past, it was nearly unforgivable, and the consequences unavoidable. She hoped she wasn't making a big mistake, even for something that seemed so minor, but the look of pure joy spreading over the young Woven Reed's face was worth the risk.
She was ecstatic. “Oh, thank you Princess!” She cried, “I promise, I'll do my very best and bring it back to show you tomorrow!”
“I'll hold you too it,” she replied softly, her tone and expression careful not to betray the inner turmoil settling in her gut.
But Woven Reed returned quickly with what Celestia had asked for, and the work was enough to distract her from the issue, if only temporarily.
Sadly, reading reports and jotting down notes for later wasn't the most exciting thing to be doing either. In fact, it was downright dull. Some of these reports were interesting, but they were just words on paper. What she wouldn't give to have been on the excavation team at Grevy's Rock, instead of merely sitting here reading what they found. At the very least she could be helping citizens New Yolk recover from the recent hurricane instead of sitting here reading up on how the situation was progressing.
A loud chime reverberating through the building told her that it was eleven o'clock. Lunch would be in a scant hour. Surely there was something she could be doing better than sifting through paperwork. She thought about it for a moment, and then grinned.
“Guard,” she said, getting one of the soldier's attention. It was customary not to address the guards by name. Never mind that their armor was enchanted to hide their true identities, it just wasn't safe to reveal their identities even in a time of peace. Too many incidents had proven the need for such unhappy restrictions.
She handed the guard her papers, ordering that they find their way to her private workroom for later. The other tried to escort her as she left the room, but she waved him away. Precautions were necessary, but so was privacy. Besides, where could she go in the castle where guards would not already be?
The courtyard was bathed in late-morning sunlight, yet the elevation of the city made it hard to soak in any warmth. The grounds had yet to be watered, she noted. After a quick glance to make sure nopony but the two guards on duty would see, she slipped off her golden shoes and walked barehoof across the grass.
She could hear the hustle and bustle of Canterlot just over the hedges, a far cry from the peace and quiet she once had in these gardens. Where had her nature gone? Even the garden itself was spoiled by a nearby gardener's shed. Although… she strained her memory for a moment, and smiled once she could remember what she'd hidden within it for such a day as this.
The two guards were more than surprised when their Princess walked over, one outstretched wing supporting a dusty net, and three racquets clenched below her other wing. A shuttlecock was resting over the tip of her horn. She stopped before them, a gleam of hope in her eye.
“Badminton, anypony?”
The guards hesitated and shard a worried glance. Could this be a legitimate offer? Was she just testing them? Going against what they had been taught, they looked their Princess in the eyes, and saw her divine sincerity. Her smile faltered for a moment at their hesitation, and they hastily nodded to keep her happy.
One one of the guards was a unicorn. The poor earth pony was forced to hold her racquet in her mouth. Celestia set up the net on the lawn and took one side. Her guards would be playing against her for once. What a pleasant change of pace, she thought.
“Alright, girls, I'm not going to go easy on you,” she warned. The two gulped in worry and seemed to flinch. Equestria's finest soldiers, huh? She was going to have to pound some confidence into them.
Just as she had predicted, the soldiers seemed to cower away from the shuttlecock as it came crashing down on their side of the field. Celestia just rolled her eyes and said, “Point one for me.”
The unicorn was just as hesitant in picking up the birdie and serving it back to her. Delicately, doing her best not to frighten them, she hit it back over. The earth pony took a chance and came forward, knocking the birdie back with her own racquet. Celestia's smile began to spread back across her face as the two figured it out.
Celestia had the clear advantage, being taller than her guards. The racquet was held by her magic, but it wouldn't be fair to stand still and swing it around the field, so she held it close to her the entire time and darted around like a normal pony. The opposing unicorn must have observed her sense of fair play, because she followed suit.
From there, a regular pattern formed. The earth pony, unable to shift how she held the racquet in his mouth, stood close to the net and would gently knock the shuttlecock back over the net, and the unicorn played the back of the field, darting around and making the harder shots. Their pattern forced Celestia to move around, straining her focus.
After one particularly difficult shot, Celestia paused to catch her breath. There was a twinkle in the unicorn's eye as she saw her chance. Leaping as high as he could, he slapped the shuttlecock down on the other side of the net. The Princess, already down by two points, dived forward and swung with all her might, hearing the satisfactory thwack of the shuttlecock against her racquet before she tumbled to the ground.
The guards ran to her side, the birdie abandoned on the ground where it lay. They stood over the Princess, who was getting to her hooves and wiping the dust off her coat. And she was laughing.
“That was fun!” she exclaimed, then looked confused. “Why'd you stop?” she asked, “You didn't let me win that round, did you?” The two insisted that they hadn't, that they were just concerned for her, but she simply shook her head to assure them that she was alright. “Now, let's get back to it, shall we?”
“Ahem.”
Celestia had to put effort into keeping her ears from drooping at that sound. It was the sound of her work come to haunt her once again. Turning around, she forged a smile at the sight of her assistant Raven. The smart cookie wasn't hiding her frown, instead clearly perturbed at the sight of her Majesty getting “down and dirty” with the guardsponies.
“Princess, an alert has come through from Vanhoover. The town is being attacked by a giant squid in the harbor. You need to dispatch the Wonderbolts immediately.”
“And so I shall!” Celestia replied, growing firm and resolute. She stopped only to slip back into her golden shoes and whisper to the guards, “We'll finish this some other time.” But as she walked away, a terrible weight on her heart assured her that no such thing would occur.
Author's Note
Puzzlemint is actually a character that appears in the story "4 Conversations about 1 thing", which sadly isn't on Fimfiction from what I can tell. I can't say if she's from anywhere else, nor could I find a way to get in contact with the author to ask about using the character. So for all intent and purposes I basically borrowed the character without asking, but it does give me the excuse to promote the other story she appeared in. Go read it. Right now.
Also, I don't keep up with the news, but at the time I'm working on this I kinda heard about some bad weather up in New York (?). If that's the case, the scene that mentions the "hurricane in New Yolk" isn't intentionally referencing that. Not trying to twist other people's misfortunes into my own gain. I haven't sunk that far yet.
I've always thought that, with all the guards except Shining Armor looking exactly alike, there must be something enchanted about their armor that hides their identities. In The Crystal Empire part 1, we see a guard take off his helmet though, sadly disproving this theory. They just must all stem from an unfortunately similar gene pool. But I kept the enchanted armor thing in there anyway. I think it works.
And lastly, I appreciate all the favorites (6 from a single chapter alone!) but I'd also really appreciate a comment if you can spare the time. Constructive criticism is appreciated, and even just a brief "I enjoy this" blurb is still welcome.
Luna was standing just outside the dining room when Celestia arrived, fully dressed and groomed for the day. She was wearing the hint of a smile, which all but disappeared at the sight of her elder sister's face. Tia tried to be brave and put on a grin of her own, but it was fooling nopony, and she knew it.
Dropping the charade, she sighed and asked, “Is everypony else here already then?”
“Indeed they are,” Luna replied, speaking softly, “I guess we're not being very good hosts to keep them waiting like this.” When Celestia only grunted in reply at her joke, Luna's ears drooped and her brow scrunched up in concern.
There was no time to discern what was wrong with her sister, however. Their guests had waited long enough as it was. The Archbishop of Canterberry had come a long way across the sea to visit them, and it would be an injustice to deny a figure of his stature the time he desired. As with every day, though, there was a crowd of ponies visiting. Many of Canterlot's elite had taken advantage of Celestia's permanent open invitation to come see the visiting VIP.
The Archbishop Siar Geata sat right beside the head seat of the table, which was unoccupied and waiting for the elder princess. Every other seat along the extended table was filled. And down at the very end was Luna's own spot. Everypony's eyes were on Celestia as she sat down and acknowledged the Bishop. Not a one of them seemed to notice the younger sister as she walked around the table to where she belonged. Maybe it was just her imagination, but a chill seemed to run through the room.
Celestia did her best to care about the droning on of her guest. She was politely nodding to everything he said, but thoughts of last months tax debates kept drawing her attention away from his pompous flank. After setting her fork down, she realized that the bishop had just asked her something. She chewed slowly, straining her memory for his last question.
“Yes,” she said, hoping against hope that she had guessed right, “It's been a while, but even back then the bell was out of tune. It's a shame though; for all that the cathedral has gone through, the bell that withstood all the damage and reconstruction is finally being taken in for repair.”
Siar Geata paused for a moment before answering. “With all due respect, my liege, the Hierro Bell in the North West Tower is the oldest bell in the cathedral, not the Litaneia Bell.”
“Ah yes, common misconception,” Celestia replied, eager to get an upper hand over this snob, “I remember the Hierro Bell well. I was the one who forged it from the iron deposits in the Sierra Madre. The Griffons spend so much time with their heads in the clouds, they tend to forget the Fey that run wild among their islands below. I figured that, as iron is poison to the touch for them, the warning vibrations of an iron bell would remind them to shy away from a town under my protection. However bell metal had already been in use for a while before I started my forging, so yes, there are bells there older than my Campana de Hierro.”
She took a nonchalant sip of her tea, mostly to hide her smirk in the cup. It was good to see that even the head of her church in the Gryphon Kingdom could still be humbled by her. No matter how arrogant they got, she was always able to pull a little joy from toying with them.
As he was still stunned by her retort, she took the opportunity to glance around. Her heart sank at the sight of Luna slipping out the door into the hallway.
“Archbishop,” she said, before he could start rambling again, “have you met Primrose?” She pointed to the pony on his other side, and as soon as his attention was away from her Celestia bolted.
“Luna, wait!” she cried, catching up to her sister and slowing down until they were at an even pace.
“What are you doing sister?” Luna asked with mock coldness, “It is not queenly to leave your guests unattended.”
“And now you know why I've not taken the title.” She waited for a moment. When Luna didn't respond, Celestia cooed, “Please don't be mad at me, sister. We knew it would be a long road to recovery.”
“I know,” Luna agreed, “Even still… you have a church in your name.”
“You have followers too. Among the sarosians, remember? I'm sure they're just as interesting as the archbishop. Spent six minutes talking about his cats, um… I think so anyway. I wasn't really listening”
Luna failed to suppress a chuckle. Celestia allowed herself a concerned smile. They would have talked more, but Luna had to flee for her meeting. They needed to talk more. Celestia knew they could not mask the subject of her pain with laughter forever. She just wanted to sit down and discuss the issue with Luna. She just needed more time.
But her power could only send the sun forward.
A cold meal and a small plethora of guests awaited her back in the dining hall, but Celestia wasn't headed that way. Her throne room was almost devoid of guards, and her servants wouldn't have thought to look for her there during lunch. But it wasn't just the loneliness she wanted. She had started referring to it not as her “throne room” but her “Hall of Stain-glass Windows”, of which she was constantly adding to.
One would always stand out as special to her. Celestia gazed into the memorial of her sister's redemption just a few years earlier. The door opened and closed, but she assumed that it was just another guard moving through. She didn't actually turn to face her visiter until she heard the familiar sound of him clearing his throat.
“Silent Majority!” She exclaimed with mock joy, “It's so nice to see you.”
But as much as he was her favorite legislator of the bunch, she couldn't force herself to be excited at his presence. The look in his eyes suggested he knew what she had been brooding over.
“The next session is about to begin,” he told her bluntly, “I thought you should know.”
“Yes, thank you for finding me.” She cast one last glance back at the window before beginning her walk. She told him playfully, “The very least we can do is arrive late together.”
“Scandalous,” he replied, “I can hear the rumors now.” And as the sound of Celestia's laughter filled the halls once more, Silent Majority let himself a small grin. Turning to matters at hoof, he told her, “Some of the nobles are demanding that we cut taxes on the wealthy again.”
“And knowing you, you've come to insist that it's a bad idea.”
“You can read my like a book,” he told her.
“No, I can read First Draft like a book. I just remember your platform.” Mimicking his voice the best she could, she proudly exclaimed, “No pony shall suffer at the hand of self-righteous corporate heads who would retain their bits for their own pleasure! The wealthy few will not be allowed total domination of society!”
He grinned sheepishly at her recollection. “Yes, yes I did say that, didn't I? More or less.”
“Relax, Silent,” she said, “You have a strong following. I remember Magna Carta was a lot like you, boldly demanding that I turn over power to the nobles and establish a proper hierarchy of power.”
“You mean I'm a lot like Magna Carta,” he tried to interject, but she ignored this.
“You've just taken his ideas further and demanded an equal chance for everypony. It's laudable if you ask me. Just remember that Equestria is changing even as we speak. The very corporations you fear are replacing the noble class that's reigned for so long. Progress may be frightening, but you cannot hold it back forever.”
“Perhaps,” he admitted, “But I can try my hardest to ensure that nopony suffers unfairly because of it.”
Celestia nodded in agreement. Taking a moment to change the topic of conversation, she asked him, “So how is your wife? I trust she's not aware of the 'scandalous activities' we've been up to?”
Author's Note
Siar Geata is, if I'm not mistaken, an Irish phrase for "back gate". Litaneia is a greek word for "prayer", and Campana de Hierro literally means "Iron Bell".
There are actually three Sierra Madre mountain ranges, all of them located in Mexico. I know that at least one of them has some amount of iron deposits.
The reference to iron being poisonous to the Fey (read: changelings, kelpie, etc), I took from Dromicosuchus' "Mendacity" (I know, every chapter I'm drawing inspiration from somewhere else). It apparently took inspiration from The Dresden Files, which I've never read. Regardless, it's a good story that's not hard to understand and definitely worth checking out.
I don't know anything about the actual archbishop of Canterbury, and if I did I probably wouldn't have anything against him. The archbishop character introduced in this chapter isn't based off of any actual person, religious or otherwise.
As always, Silent Majority was in top form. He effortlessly countered every argument thrown against him, even those made by his most bitter and aggressive rivals. It was no secret that Celestia tended to favor him in these debates, but she kept her little mouth shut and let him stand on his own merits. She wasn't supposed to show favoritism after all, even when his opponents were way out of line.
Not that anypony asked for her opinion very often. When it came to things like extending certain holidays or honoring war veterans, she was more than happy to give her two bits. But for the most part she just sat back and let them argue their differences away. It was a marvel, to see how far the legislature had come since its founding. And, if she were being embarrassingly honest, it was almost frightening how self-sustaining it had become.
A shiver ran down Celestia's spine. For as much time it required, she prided herself in her attentiveness to her subjects' various needs. But for hundreds of years, ever since Magna Carta founded the system, it had grown steadily more powerful and all-encompassing, tending to even the most basic needs and wants of the public. It was invading her domain. How much longer before it grew beyond her influence?
Nevertheless, this was her favorite time of the week. So many of these ponies were her friends – Silent Majority, Secret Ballot, Vote Splitter, Rhetoric, Minority Rule, Cloud Nine, Bleeding Heart, Bully Pulpit – she knew them and their goals well. And though they were all different, and all assertive (sometimes aggressive) when it came to their agendas, she knew that in their hearts they wanted what was best for Equestria.
It almost brought a smile to her face.
But she just couldn't let go of the fact that it was still work.
When the session called for break, Celestia barely had time to slip out for a glass of water before her aid was upon her. The package looked harmless, but Celestia knew it contained the letters, all the letters, that had arrived for her while the session was going.
She briefly thanked her assistant and turned her attention to the letters. She opened them quickly, scanning the names and first few lines for anything important. Most of them were the typical “would you honor us with your presence” stuff she was used to, and one or two of them mentioned court cases. There was even one inquiring about a royal pardon; that might be interesting.
She stored these letters for later and then turned to the very last. She recognized her sister's scrawl (even when using magic her sister's hoofwriting was deplorable) and stopped to read the update. According to Luna, the meeting with the Vulpine Merito– Celestia snorted trying to stifle a laugh. Her sister had called the Vulpine Meritocracy the Vulpine Kleptocracy instead. Say what you want about Luna not understanding humor – her political satire was always right on the mark.
Celestia returned to the letter. Negotiations were going fine and they were still hoping to convince the nation to drop most of their most recent tariffs on imported works, and maybe even a few older ones. Celestia smiled at the news. She knew she had been right in sending Luna. Maybe she could send her to the UTA… were donkey's even smart enough to be outwitted by her? Celestia scolded herself for the mean (not racist though; no, that was a fault for other ponies to have) thought and folded the letter back up.
Blank Check was standing alone in a corner with only his drink and a potted plant to keep him company. Ever since his reelection, which he had won in a landslide despite the evidence mounted against him, the other legislators had done their best to shun him. Celestia, of course, had refused to comment on the trial. The public had spoken when they reelected him regardless of the charges. Besides, acquitted meant not guilty.
So she wandered over to him, noting casually, “Nice plant you've got there.”
“Oh? I suppose,” he replied, “Not mine, though.”
“Something on your mind?”
“I'm sorry, Princess,” he said, “It's nothing.” She'd been around the block enough times to know when a pony was holding back tears. But all those years had also taught her when not to push an issue. She stood there silently, shooing away Bully Pulpit and Vote Splitter when they tried to approach. Though she said nothing, Blank Check still deserved her full attention. Simply being there for her friends had worked wonders in the past.
The council returned from break shortly after, and Blank Check made for the door immediately, apparently not wanting to give her another chance to speak. She watched him go with sorrow, angry at herself for not finding a better way for dealing with these situations, and angry at mortals in general for being so fragile. But it was an empty anger, and faded quickly. She caught Silent Majority watching her from afar, but gave him a look to warn him away.
As soon as the word “Manehatten” left the Speaker's mouth, Celestia was out of it. Manehatten was a wonderful place, wasn't it? She'd always particularly enjoyed the theater. A little hard to enjoy a show, granted, when everypony insisted on giving her special treatment every time she went; hard to hear what's going on with someone offering to fluff her pillow or bring her a drink every three seconds. But what else were disguise spells for, anyway? It wasn't technically abuse of power to use it for herself once in a while. Or was it that using the spell that way was abusive only on a technicality? How long ago was that debate? Did she even care anymore? Such a beautiful city. Beautiful sights. Grand historical sights. How many pictures and portraits of her standing before them were there from over the ages? She'd seen some magnificent structures torn down in her time. Not personally, of course, she was too busy to attend the destruction of every place she holds fondly...
It was only then that Celestia realized that every eye in the room was on her.
“Um…” she racked her brain for a moment, “I agree with Bleeding Heart. There's no valid reason to go through with the extra precautions.”
Clearly she had said something wrong, because for a moment the only sound that could be heard in the grand chamber was a stray cough.
“Princess,” the Speaker addressed her, “We've moved on from that topic. We were asking you about the dates for this years Summer Sun Celebration.”
Celestia turned a bright shade of red before stammering out an apology. A few murmurs could be heard at this, probably just little bursts of laughter from the other legislators.
As soon as the meeting ended Celestia was headed for the door. Her heart leaped as she crossed the threshold, for she was free!, only for her joy to be dashed again when a familiar voice called her name.
“Princess Celestia,” Majority Whip addressed her, “I've been meaning to talk to you about state of affairs in Cloudsdale. Those… eccentric sarosians, ever so in the spotlight since your sister's glorious return, have insisted that their accommodations and status are not satisfactory. They continue to overstep their…”
She went on for another five minutes, and was followed by similar legislators asking for her to validate their opinions. She heard about abortion, flight restrictions, drug transport, failsafe spells, and somepony might have even mentioned the issue of Victory Junction. But eventually she was free, and gone before another distraction could arise.
She opened the door to her throne room just a crack to make sure nopony was inside before slipping in. Other than the two guards on duty, there was nothing to suggest anypony else was waiting for her with things to be done. Stifling a sigh, she made her way to the throne. Briefly she closed her eyes and dreamed of another place. There was no point in watching where she walked; the straight route from the door to the throne was so familiar she believed she had, once or twice, made it there in her sleep.
Without peeking, she took the familiar seat and reached over to grab the small hanging rope in her mouth. She tugged it once, causing the little bell to give off a sharp *ding*. A second later when she opened her eyes, a new assistant was already before her.
“Please bring me a parchment and quill,” she asked, and the assistant was gone and back in the blink of an eye. Celestia took the supplies and began writing.
My Dear Spell Nexus,
I was pleased to see the size of this most recent semester's honor roll that you
presented to me. It seems that the new teaching implements you insisted on have
worked to your advantage. You've made a much better headmaster to my school
than I ever could have. And I'll have you know that this is not an idle compliment. I
don't want to hear you calling me a liar in your next letter, understood?
Your report on that special colt I asked you to look into was just what I wanted. Don't
tip him off that I'm looking in on him (the poor boy would be scared out of his wits),
but encourage him. I can't imagine a brain like that, even in a school of gifted
unicorns, would lead to him being very popular. You of all ponies should know what
it's like to shun your own abilities when they make you stand out. If he keeps up this
good work, we may even have to introduce him to miss Sparkle. I believe she had a
similarly disastrous entrance exam. You remember that, I hope?
Forever yours,
Tia
P.S. I wanted to ask if you were going to attend Luna's birthday party next month. I
know you have a busy schedule, but you could use a single night off to enjoy yourself.
It will be a small and intimate gathering, but it won't be the same without you.
With that done, she rolled up the scroll and tied it with a ribbon. Floating it down to her assistant, she said, “Deliver this to Spell Nexus posthaste.”
After shifting the sun briefly to its appropriate position, she decided that she would not have a better chance to get back to work. Not her royal duties, that is, but the work that actually counted.
Though, as Celestia mused while she treaded the stairs to the highest tower, that wasn't to imply that her royal duties were unimportant. No, simply that this is what managed to catch the brunt of her attention. And now that every new amendment to the law seemed to exclude her more and more, she could more freely turn to her private studies without the fear of being negligent weighing down on her mind.
The door locked behind her and Celestia was immediately overwhelmed by the familiar scents of the room. Mold spores and sulfur fumes were a welcome and familiar tint in the air, and the soft, radiating light of different colors a welcome sight for the eyes.
The lab was small and cramped, with tables of strewn-out books, some first editions that had been burned by a spilled concoction as she strained to read the words in the faded light, ultimately losing her grip on her vials and bowls and letting her hard work spill everywhere. There was no need to be cautious. She had until the sun went out to study and enjoy herself. There was no seriousness here, and nothing showed that better than her notebooks where she collected her studies on paper.
Third attempt at making a love potion, still turns you purple…
I didn't think that taking a nap upside down would help my divination skills anyway; can't believe the sarosians are capable of sleeping like that…
As I was turning my latest batch of copper ore to gold for my new experiment, I hiccuped and interrupted the spell. I'm not sure what it turned into now, but I have it in a cage and am attempting to study it. It seems to feed on soot by absorbing it through pores in it's… skin? Membrane? Whatever. I think I'll name it Lucky.
Speaking of this last one… Celestia glanced up into Lucky's cage. It was three times the size it had started as. She was almost worried it would start moving, and then she'd have to show it to somepony else for a second opinion.
Whatever it was, she was dangerously close to calling it a life form, and that worried her.
But now was not the time nor the place for worries! She picked up her latest notebook, having finally found it under an overturned cauldron caked with mustard, and opened to a fresh new page. And then, she finally began her work for the day.
Author's Note
And now, the exciting continuation of: The Superfluous Author's Notes!
I think that "kleptocracy" joke might be a bit high-brow even for me. I almost didn't think that possible.
Spell Nexus was introduced in Past Sins as the headmaster of Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns.
The Canterlot Gardens were beautiful, but never more so than this time of year. And in the evenings, after the majority of work for the day had been done, there was nothing Celestia enjoyed more than slipping off to read in the gardens. Nothing matched the silence and tranquility that they offered her. It was such a nice change of pace.
Today she had brought out her first-edition copy of Little Mares, a beautiful coming-of-age tale set during an old, old war. There had been many revisions, but none got it just right like the original text. Normally it wouldn't be safe to expose such an old book to the elements, even on a calm day such as this, but some pony has once remarked that the Princess' protection spells would last forever. Maybe they would; she just didn't want to be around long enough to find out.
A sudden chill ran down Celestia's spine and she immediately turned all her attention to the nearby Discord statue. The statue was still, it was smooth, it was undamaged, but she'd be damned if she hadn't just heard a familiar low chuckle. She had to almost force her attention back on the book. It was in her best interests to ensure that the sealing was undamaged, but that didn't mean she had to enjoy the fiend's presence. As long as he lived, paralyzed or not, there would be a sense of unease in her heart.
With a sigh she realized that, her thoughts so consumed by Discord, she had just reread the same paragraph three times without taking in a word that it said. Statue or not, he was a hazard to her fragile peace. No matter – the sun indicated it was getting late, so she had to put the book up and head inside anyway.
Resiting the temptation to spit on the statue as she passed by, Celestia made it just in time to see the changing of the guard at the front gate. It was a strong indication that it must be dinner time, unless the guards had made a mistake. There was a first time for everything, after all.
Celestia nodded to the fresh guards as she passed through the double doors, only to be greeted herself by a familiar smiling face.
“You look better, sister,” Luna remarked kindly.
“Only the best for my younger sister,” Celestia replied in kind, “When did you arrive? I would have loved to talk to you.”
“Well, when their vixen leader bade me to leave, I can assure you that I returned as swiftly as I was able. But by the time I had made it home you were already in your laboratory, and I used the chance to catch up on my strategic – why are you grinning like a wolf?”
“Vixen?” Celestia mused, “The word has more meanings now, you know.”
Luna gave her a quizzical look, but wisely did not pry further. She knew better than to try to wrestle the answer from her older sister when she was speaking in riddles.
“Anyway,” Luna continued, “I simply didn't want to be a bother.”
Celestia nuzzled her sister's neck fondly before telling her, “You're never a bother, Luna, remember that. Now come, we're not being very good hosts to leave our guests waiting like this.”
Dinner was always a spectacle at the castle. The Archbishop of Canterberry had thankfully declined the offer to return to dinner, but every spot was filled regardless. Celestia took her seat at the head of the table near the exit while Luna made the long trek to the other end near the door to the kitchen. If she squinted from where she sat, she could barely make out her elder sister across the table. Well, at least her food was still warm when it reached her.
Celestia herself was seated between the visiting mayor of Fillydelphia and Cloud Nine. Legislators didn't normally attend dinner; he was one of the few exceptions. He was a joy to be around too, and Celestia counted herself lucky to get a seat next to him. It was truly a shame that there was a visiting mayor nearby she needed to talk to as well.
“The rat catchers are always so busy this time of year,” the mayor said, “Everypony's pushing me to put a price limit on what they can charge for their services.”
Celestia just politely nodded to everything she said. It was easy enough to ignore. Especially when her assistants would insist on bringing her work in the middle of dinner. She would glance over at the scrolls they brought, occasionally grunting out a reply, and then once or twice writing a quick response if it was urgent. Nopony thought anything of it; they knew how busy she was.
She had just gotten a chance to ask Cloud Nine about his wife's pregnancy when another letter arrived. Her heart leaped at the sight of her sister's familiar scribble. What took you so long? she wondered. Reading it almost brought a smile to the princess' face.
Casting a glance across the table where her sister was squinting at her from, Celestia gave a devilish little grin and began writing her reply. The assistant didn't hesitate when she gave him the note, but headed straight around the table towards Luna. Sometimes the new assistants needed to be clued in to the rules of their little game, but he was clearly well-informed. Somewhere in the background, the mayor was complaining about how it's always sunny in Fillydelphia, but Celestia wasn't listening.
Luna opened the letter with haste, not slowed by having to stop and talk to those around her. She raised an eyebrow at Celestia when she had read the note, but smiled and began composing her next message.
This continued for a while. Some of these visiting ponies were probably smart enough to figure out what really went on between the two of them during dinner, but, if so, they said nothing and let the two have their fun. It was a small thrill, to be passing notes like schoolfillies under a teacher's gaze, but it was one they enjoyed.
The mayor continued rambling, “…and I just don't know how you can take it without going grey!”
Celestia gave her a soft pat on the back with her wing. “It's going to be alright,” Celestia told her kindly, “You're a strong pony. The residents of Fillydelphia know this and they wouldn't have elected you if you couldn't handle it.”
“You're too kind,” the mayor replied, clearly touched. Celestia only responded with a warm smile. She could do without the day-to-day workings of her own kingdom, but providing comfort was something she'd spend a thousand lifetimes to enjoy.
The next scroll was actual business, and as usual she gave it only the briefest glances, but the note after that was from her sister. Trying not to look to eager, she delicately opened the scroll and read the first line.
Doesn't the senator's mane look like a toupee?
Celestia snorted and burst out laughing. Everypony turned to look at her, surprised and worried. Calming down, she blushed and gave them a small, “sorry.” They returned to their meals and conversations, while Celestia took the chance to look back at her sister. Luna was struggling not to laugh herself. There was a twinkle of elation in her eye.
Author's Note
Not much to say. This is the shortest chapter yet, and I still almost didn't get it finished in time.
Anyway, tomorrow is Good Friday, whatever that means*, and in celebration of the "holiday", I'm going to go ahead and upload the final chapter tomorrow. Think of it as an early Easter present. Or not. I don't know what you celebrate.
*Yes, I'm being facetious
“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.