It was an exceedingly rare occasion on which Luna, Princess of the Night, felt truly anxious. She could count on her hooves the times in the past year when she had gotten the chills, the cold sweat, the parasprites in her stomach… she had nearly forgotten how unpleasant the whole thing was. The incongruity of the feeling was the worst; she knew that the situation was hardly serious enough to merit a degree of stress that could weaken the knees. It made each step down the long hallway to her sister’s chambers a bit less sure.

Coming out of her darkness-induced stupor to find a thousand years had passed, that had been a circumstance that deserved a lump in the throat. Or her first public appearance on Nightmare Night; one would have been foolish not to feel at least a little stress, given that there had been a millennium of myth and legend to counteract. Going to have a talk with one’s sister was not that sort of situation. It was downright mundane by comparison.

It wasn’t as if she had never disagreed with Celestia before. Back when the Crystal Empire Crisis had occurred, she had quite readily offered a contrary opinion. It hadn’t hurt her in the slightest to make her displeasure at the situation known. But of course, even in that case, it hadn’t quite been a confrontation. Luna had entered her dissenting opinion into the record and then allowed Celestia to proceed. And of course, the fact that Celestia had turned out to be right didn’t make things any easier. This time, at least, Luna was unshaken in her conviction.

It still didn’t make her any less nervous. Still, better to have their first true disagreement since her return over this than over some important matter of state. Luna paused for a moment to gather her composure, and stepped resolutely around the final corner. At the far end of the hallway was the ornate doorway into Celestia’s private chambers. She addressed the guards.

“Be at ease!” If there was one thing she prided herself on, it was her capability to maintain her composure. The two guards who flanked the door relaxed out of the ready stance that they had doubtlessly only assumed moments earlier at the sound of Luna’s hoofsteps. “I am here to see my sister,” she said. It wasn’t quite an order, but the tone of her voice made it clear that nothing they could say would keep her from proceeding. They bowed in deference and stepped out of her way.

Celestia’s room was, as always, bright. Sunlight poured in from the windows that lined every wall. Luna squinted, as she did every time she entered. Celestia sat on the balcony, partaking contentedly in a snack of tea and crumpets. If she had heard Luna enter, she showed no sign of it.

“We need to talk, sister,” Luna said.

“About what?” Celestia answered, in her isn’t-the-weather-just-lovely-today voice.

“I’m quite sure that you already know.” Luna resisted the impulse to roll her eyes. The untrained ear could not differentiate between true and feigned ignorance. Likely because the mere idea that Celestia the Sun-Bearer, Princess of the Day could possibly play dumb would never cross the minds of the general populace. Fortunately, Luna had plenty of experience with it, usually in the context of food having mysteriously gone missing from the royal icebox.

“Crumpet?” Celestia’s magical aura shone like the sun as the plate hovered mere inches from Luna’s nose. “They’re quite good.”

“I did not come here to have a snack. I came here to talk to you about…” She sniffed. They did smell delicious, and she had skipped breakfast in her haste to address her sister. “Fine, just one.” She plucked one delicately off of the plate. “Now then-”

“Tea?” Celestia held up the teapot. “It’s chamomile.”

“I prefer rosehip. And that’s not what I came here for.”

Celestia giggled like a filly. “If I had cider, you’d be more than willing to have some, wouldn’t you?”

“Well, yes, but that’s beside the point.” Luna took a small bite of the crumpet and began to talk around it. “We have more important matters to discuss. Specifically, your hobby.”

Celestia tilted her head inquisitively. “What’s wrong with Bonsai?”

“Your other hobby,” Luna said, resisting the ever-growing urge to facehoof. Celestia just continued to return her stare, innocent as a schoolfilly. Which, if Luna’s experiences with schoolfillies were any indication, actually wasn’t that innocent. She gave up and put a hoof to her forehead. “Why don’t we go for a walk?” she asked.

Celestia nodded. “I’d like that.”

The two sisters strode through the entranceway of the great hall. On the rare days when it wasn’t filled by the hustle and bustle of royal life, like today, it was so empty that even the princesses were dwarfed by the expansive space. Aside from themselves, the sole presence in the room was the light that poured in from the dozens of windows that lined the walls.

“Now, sister,” Luna began, “I think this has gone on long enough. You must stop pouring so much time and resources into this stained glass window obsession of yours!”

Celestia shook her head sullenly. “Luna, I would have thought that you would have recognized that it’s so much more than just some sort of hobby. Look at this hall, Luna!” She spun dramatically and swept her hoof across the room. “Isn’t it majestic? Isn’t it beautiful? Can’t you see that this place would lack the grandeur it deserves without the marvelous patterns of light?”

Luna bit her tongue. The grand hall did look quite impressive, all things considered. When one stood in it on a sunny day, it was like standing in the center of a prism. Of course, admitting that would only fuel Celestia’s enthusiasm. Luna opted for understatement. “Yes, they are quite pretty,” she admitted. “But the aesthetics alone hardly justify the cost. You’ve had over a dozen new additions in just the past few months! Could you not achieve the same effect with a simpler and more… cost effective pattern?”

“Beauty is not their only merit,” Celestia said, scoffing. “They are a record of the history of our kingdom, Luna! We rule the nation from this hall! It is integral that we keep these past events before our eyes at all times. As such, I think it is fitting to have such depictions adorn our walls. I simply thought it would be a way to ensure that we remember, and it is a beautiful way, at that.”

“I understand that as well, Celestia.” Luna rolled her eyes. The first time she had heard Celestia’s little speech, it had been quite affecting. Unfortunately, this was around the fifth time that Celestia had done the spiel, and it was beginning to wear thin. “Of course it is important to remember those things. However, your choice of which events to commemorate makes that explanation rather doubtful.”

“Whatever do you mean?” With Celestia, the line between sarcasm and sincerity could be nearly imperceptible. At least when she was talking to Luna.

Luna sighed. “Why don’t I show you what I mean? For instance, this window is quite appropriate.” She waved a hoof at the first window in the sequence. It depicted a certain draconequus practicing his puppetry. “It is an excellent portrayal of history of Equestria. It is important to remember such things.”

She turned around and nodded toward the stained glass aperture directly across the hall. This one depicted a figure that Luna found all too familiar. She could admire the craftsmanship, but it was hardly her favorite. That whole “Nightmare Moon” thing was something she wanted to put behind her. “Even this one has its merits. As much as I dislike having one of my greatest failures immortalized in such a fashion, it is, again, something that must be faced. Those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it.”

“See, now you’re getting it!” Celestia patted Luna on the head as if she were a filly. “Now that we’ve settled that, why don’t we go out for a nice brunch?”

“I wasn’t finished,” Luna said as she removed Celestia’s hoof from her mane. “I said that I see the value of some of these projects, not all of them. Just because you have reasons for a few of them doesn’t mean you can go on adding them willy-nilly. The subjects of some of these windows are hardly worthy of the effort and cost required to create them!”

“Ha!” Celestia stomped her hoof. “Luna, I defy you to find a single one that doesn’t depict something well worthy of remembrance!”

“Alright, then.” Luna leaped into the air and fluttered down a short distance down the hall. “What about this one?” she asked, pointing.

“Shining Armor and Princess Cadance saved our kingdom from a changeling invasion! Are you seriously suggesting that such an act is not worthy of recognition!?” She turned away from her sister with a snort. “If only they could hear you.”

“I have nothing against recognizing that. However, I feel compelled to point out that first, we already have a window depicting that.” She nodded towards the window beside the one they were standing in front of. The glowing shapes of Shining Armor and Cadance were at the center, surrounded by dozens of dark shapes being obliterated by a heart-shaped blast. “And second, this window depicts not their valiant effort in defense of the country, but the wedding reception!”

Sure enough, the image was one of a pair. The second window, which Luna now turned her attention to, showed the wedding party in addition to the two princesses, all standing next to a rather large turntable. While the artisan had a truly admirable ability to capture the feeling of motion, they hadn’t managed to fully circumvent the inevitable fact that any static image of a pony in mid-dance looked a bit ridiculous.

Cadance and Shining Armor came across well enough, as they weren’t dancing so much as stepping back and forth slowly. The rest of the ponies, though… Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, and Applejack, all bearing large mugs of something frothy, were standing in a conga line. Fluttershy was pictured in mid-twirl, and appeared to have no forelegs.. Rarity was engaged in a very hip-focused movement which was undoubtedly intended to draw the eye. Whatever Twilight was doing could barely be considered dancing, and the less said about it, the better.

“Not only is the wedding reception not particularly relevant, but everypony looks ridiculous.”

“That is simply not true.” Celestia stepped up to the window and pointed at her own likeness, which stood off to the side, fluttering in the air with an exuberant yet graceful joy. “As you can see, we look absolutely fine.”

“You do,” Luna said. “I look like a fool.”

“You do not look like a fool. You look like a…” She looked at the glass facsimile of her sister. She had her tongue out, and both her forehooves thrust in the air. The artisan’s skill was such that one could practically see her head whipping back and forth to the nonexistent guitar riffs. “Perhaps you look a little foolish.”

“I look like a buffoon!” Luna’s voice slid a bit towards a yell. “And what is that thing supposed to be?” She pointed at a protrusion two-thirds of the way up the picture.

“It’s a disco ball,” Celestia answered, her face beaming. “It cost a little bit extra to make it spin like that, but it was worth it, don’t you think?”

Luna shook her head. “It is a mere novelty. Such a device is fit for the window of a nursery, perhaps. But not for the grand hall of the palace!”

“If that is not to your liking, then how about this one?” Celestia’s horn dazzled, and the two alicorns found themselves at the far side of the hall, before a window depicting the Crystal palace. Upon the balcony, Shining Armor and Cadance stood, flanked by five other ponies and a small dragon.

“‘Tis an improvement, I suppose. That the Crystal Empire was granted the right to host the Equestria Games is a sign of progress. Though I think some of the details are a slight bit off…” She noted the corner of the window, where a brown pony with a large pot on her head was shown mid-gallop. “But on the whole I think it is adequate.” She squinted at the line of ponies on the balcony. “Though it seems that one of them is missing?”

“Oh?”

“Where is the Element of Laughter? I would have thought that her presence would have been most evident.”

“Well, originally she was right there next to Twilight,” Celestia said, pointing at a conspicuous gap between Twilight and Rainbow Dash. “But I thought that having her simply standing there didn’t do justice to how energetic she typically is. So I made a few modifications.”

“Modifications?” Luna couldn’t help but turn it into a question, even though she didn’t want to know the answer.

“Yes,” Celestia said. She pointed to a small button built into the wall just below the sill. “Why don’t you press that and see?”

“I am going to regret this,” Luna mumbled as she acquiesced to her sister’s request. The window began to whirr, and she took a step back. With a click, a small door above the crystal balcony popped open, revealing a crude animatronic Pinkie Pie, appropriately enough (or not) clad in the uniform of a jester and holding a flugelhorn. A jangly, polka-esque recording—of low quality, of course—blared from a fuzzy speaker hidden behind the puppet as it swayed back in forth in time with the music. Then the figure clicked, and raised the flugelhorn to its mouth.

Luna instinctively put her hooves to her ears, but it wasn’t enough. The slurry of off-key horn screeching bypassed her ears and pierced straight through her brain. When the sound subsided, Luna was fighting not to curl up into a shivering ball.

“Wasn’t that something!?” Celestia said, as if she had just listened to an expertly sung aria. “It’s a perfect reproduction of Pinkie Pie’s flugelhorn.”

“I have no doubt of that,” Luna removed her hooves from her ears, which were still ringing. “Though your reason for producing such a thing is beyond me. Certainly we can agree that it is hardly a pleasant sound.”

“You never did have appreciation for the fine arts, did you?” Celestia said, her voice heavy with a (most likely false) melancholy.

“It can hardly be considered a fine piece of art if it makes me want to stuff my ears with cotton.”

Celestia sniffed. “Are you sure that your opposition to my hobby isn’t just because your portrayal tends to be less than flattering?”

“So now you are impugning my motives? You know how much I dislike being impugned!” She glared at her sister. “Though I must admit that I am slightly irked that your presence in these windows seems to be slightly more well-represented.”

“I was afraid of that,” Celestia said sadly. Then she perked up almost immediately. “Which is why I commissioned a new window specifically to show you in a positive light!”

“Is that so?” Luna stepped back in surprise. “You went to all that trouble?”

“Indeed I did!” Celestia nodded enthusiastically. “I suppose you would like to see it?”

“Of course,” Luna said. She took a deep breath and tried to keep her hopes from rising too high. The last time Celestia had given her such an opulent gift apropos of nothing had been a millennium ago. The gift had been a new throne. Specifically, a new throne sitting atop a trapdoor leading into the castle moat. Then again, perhaps Celestia had changed over the past thousand years. She followed Celestia towards one of the newer windows, which was still covered by a cloth.

Celestia cleared her throat as she grasped the corner of the cloth. “Tah-dah!” With a flourishing twist of her neck, she whipped it away from the window.

Luna was impressed for all of four seconds. The workmanship was most definitely top notch, as was the artistry. Then Luna took note of the subject matter. True to Celestia’s word, Luna saw herself depicted in the window. Unfortunately, the manner of the depiction wasn’t quite what she would have chosen. The fact that the Luna in the window sat on her throne was fine. But everything else…

“Celestia, who exactly are all of those other ponies?”

“Your subjects, of course!” Celestia said. “Who else?”

“What are they doing?”

“Paying homage,” Celestia said, as though it was the most obvious thing ever. “What else would they be doing?”

“That is not ‘paying homage’!” Luna snapped. “They’re hanging off of my hind legs as if I were Coltan the Barbarian!” She looked closer at the group of ponies clustered at the base of the throne. “Is that Fancy Pants?”

Celestia nodded. “I determined that your authority would be displayed most clearly if it were evident that even the popular, famous, and influential were shown deferring to you. I made sure to depict a wide variety of admirers.”

“Including fictional characters, apparently.” Luna indicated one of the ponies. “That is Con Mane, is it not?” Then she pointed at one of the mares. “And Daring Do? Really?”

Celestia smirked. “There’s something funny you don’t know about that last one.”

“Wait, you mean that Daring Do is- Wait, no!” Luna shook her head. “That’s not important now. I just want to know why…” Another one of the ponies in the window caught her attention. “Why is Big Macintosh groping my tail?!”

“I had him included as a special favor to you,” Celestia said, poking Luna in the flank. “I hear that you two really hit it off at the Ponyville fair, after all.”

Luna’s cheeks flushed slightly. “While I appreciate your desire to… honor me in this fashion, I am not certain that it is appropriate to have in our grand hall.”

“But you have to admit, it certainly is memorable!” Celestia said as she turned and began to strut away. “Nopony will ever forget seeing it.”

“True, but I am not fully convinced that that is a good thing.” Luna lowered her voice. “Though I suppose I should be glad that it does not talk.”

“That’s because the speaker system hasn’t come in yet,” Celestia said. “Once it gets installed, you can make it say whatever you want!” She thrust a hoof in the air. “‘Huzzah! The obeisance has been doubled!’ Or you could have somepony compose a theme song for you.”

Luna snorted. “I am more of a mind for it to play a recording of your singing in the shower. At least then I will not be the only one who looks like a fool!”

“Come on, Luna, sometimes looking like a fool isn’t all that bad.”

“Celestia, we are Princesses! We are supposed to be the standard which every pony in Equestria looks up to! This hall is the meeting place for us and our subjects, and you’re turning it into a farce!” She stomped forward and planted herself in front of Celestia. “It’s been hard enough regaining everypony’s respect without you wasting money to turn it into a joke! Why can’t you take this seriously?!”

She paused, breathing heavily, staring at her sister. Celestia’s face stayed frozen in a smile for a moment. Then the smirk melted away with a sigh.

“If you really must know,” Celestia said, her voice suddenly sounding very tired, “it’s because I’ve been taken seriously for long enough.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you remember what things used to be like between us?” Celestia asked. She stepped up on the dais where the two thrones sat, and slumped down on hers. “Back when we still lived in the old castle?”

“How could I forget?” Luna took a seat in her own throne. “On some days we spent more time on pranks than we did actually ruling.”

“Things were so much more informal,” Celestia said. “We could spend time with our subjects rather than ruling them.”

“Yes, yes, I remember,” Luna said with a wistful smile. “Remember our games of Pony Chess? Or the air jousting?”

“Or the very first Grand Galloping Gala?” Celestia said. “It was so much more lively than the thing we have now.” She sighed and looked at the floor. “Luna, after you… you know, it wasn’t like that anymore. Ponies didn’t trust me like they once did. I had to re-earn their respect. No more time for games, for parties, for celebrations, or for pranks. Equestria grew, and I had more and more responsibilities, and fewer and fewer chances to have fun.”

“That sounds… difficult.”

“Indeed.” Celestia leaned back in her throne. “I couldn’t allow the possibility of a misstep. I had to present myself as competent, responsible, and serious. For a while I was afraid that I had forgotten how to enjoy life.” She sighed. “Worst of all, it was boring. I couldn’t so much as make a bad pun during a meeting without some stick-in-the-mud assuming that I meant to make it into a piece of legitimate legislation.”

“I thought you hated puns.”

“I do!” Celestia said. “The fact that I resorted to that form of humor should tell you how desperate I was!”

Luna smiled. “And you thought that with my return, things could be like the old days again?”

“It has been centuries since I had the freedom to loosen up.” Celestia turned sideways in the throne and laid back, letting her head hang upside down over the side. “Now that you have re-assumed your role as co-regent, I thought maybe now I would have the chance to be a bit silly.”

“I would say that making a talking stained glass window does go past being a bit silly,”

“Yes, I suppose I can see that.” Celestia closed her eyes. “I only want there to be some levity! To let everypony know that they don’t have to be so uptight around me. To remember that just because I am a Princess doesn’t mean that I’m going to be serious all the time.”

“That’s all well and good, but you may want to reconsider your methods,” Luna said. “What if that flugelhorn goes off during a diplomatic presentation?”

“I’d hope that the diplomats have a sense of humor. And that they share my appreciation for stained glass windows.”

“I would not make such a great wager,” Luna said. Then she grinned. “But still, I suppose you’re right. A little foolishness certainly does take an edge off of running a country.” She sniffed. “Even so, I would still request that the more… ridiculous of your projects be put somewhere less conspicuous.” She rolled her eyes. “Maybe you could co-opt another high society function.”

“You heard about the gala, then?” Celestia asked with a grin. “That was fun, but you wouldn’t believe the complaints I got from the aristocracy over it.”

Luna snorted. “I don’t know what you expected, deliberately turning one of our oldest traditions into a disaster.”

“You say that as if it wasn’t a disaster to begin with,” Celestia answered. “Remember the first gala we held? Somepony left out a zero on the catering order, and we ended up having to serve nachos to everypony.”

“Yes, and then whoever was in charge of the music hired the wrong band. Though considering the nachos it was really quite appropriate that we ended up with a mariachi band.” Luna sighed. “Pity it got so stuffy while I was gone.”

“Imagine that feeling stretched over centuries and you know how I feel.”

Luna thought for a moment. “I suppose I can. However, I can also imagine something else. Something very important.”

“Brownies?” Celestia asked. “With ice cream?”

Luna just glared at her.

“What? I’m hungry. You interrupted my snack.”

“No, that is not what I was referring to.” Luna glowered at her sister, who just smirked. “I was talking about respect. While I can certainly sympathize with your plight, I must remind you that when we last ruled together, we tended to have difficulty getting our subjects to take us seriously, even when we wanted them to.”

Celestia thought for a moment, trying to dredge up the millenium-old memories. “You’re right,” she said softly. “It must have been years, maybe a century even, before they really began to respect me. Come to think of it, that’s part of why I moved to Canterlot. Our old castle was too much like a funhouse.”

“Yes, and while you may very well be sick of being treated seriously, you must remember that I never really have been. I have enough trouble being accepted by the populace without being the subject of that.” She gestured at a nearby window which displayed her with her head submerged in an apple-bobbing tub. “Such things belong in a personal photo album, not on public display.”

“I guess you’re right.” Celestia chuckled to herself. “The great hall is no place for a pastiche of a ‘Coltan the Barbarian’ comic cover starring you anyway.” She winked. “I’ll have it moved into your personal chambers.”

“That is… not much better.” Luna rolled her eyes. “But I suppose it’s a start. I think it would be preferable if you found a more suitable, and less expensive, outlet for your silly side. But for now, I’ll take it.” It was her turn to wink. “Perhaps I can arrange for you to visit the next festival in Ponyville. They have a pie-eating contest. Maybe they will be willing to exchange it for cake. Though I believe it would be a rather unfair contest if you compete.”

“Very funny.” Celestia said, chuckling. “But I’ll consider it. My window funds are running low, anyway. I need to find some other way to entertain myself.” She grinned mischievously.

“Be warned, if you booby-trap my throne again, my retribution will be swift and terrible.”

“Duly noted.” Celestia yawned and stood. “Once I finish my duties for the day, I’ll arrange for the more absurd windows to be replaced with something more appropriate. I got a bulk discount from them, so it shouldn’t be too expensive. I can write it off as a business expense.”

“I greatly appreciate that,” Luna said, following her sister. “And I’m sure you will as well, once you realize just how many bits you’ve sunk into this hobby.”

The door at the far end of the hall opened with a creak. Half a dozen construction ponies came through, towing a cart bearing a wide, flat package wrapped carefully in burlap.

“Princess Celestia!” The forepony dipped his head in deference as the princesses approached. “Your most recent order just came in. Shall we begin the installation?”

“Actually, there’s been a change of plans,” Celestia said. “You can put this in storage until I decide where we’ll put it.”

“Another window?” Luna shook her head. “Dare I even ask what this one is?”

“Princess Celestia ordered it to commemorate the national dessert competition,” the forepony explained as Luna began to untie the cords that bound the window wrapping.

“Is that so?” Luna said with a smirk. The main knot came undone, and Luna lifted up the edge of the package so she could get a glimpse of the window itself. She chuckled, and gave her sister a sideways glance. “Really, Celestia?” She sniffed the air. “And it’s scented?”

Author's Notes:

This story has been sitting unfinished in my gdocs file for like a year. I'm still not sure it's quite at the point where I want it to be, but at the same time I've also hit the point where I'm really not going to be able to improve it much. Right now I'm just shuffling stuff around without really making it any better or worse. Took me forever to decide whether to make it totally comedic or to leave in the brief dramatic scene at the end. In the end I decided that leaving a bit of that drama in there added another level to the story without distracting from the humor too much. That and if I got rid of that scene I'd have no clue how I'd end the story.

Hopefully it's still enjoyable in its current form.