‘A ditzy, self-absorbed, alcoholic, diva.’ Stanza was not a skilled socialite by any measure, but she was amazed by how much she had had misjudged Rarity. The alabaster mare sat, squinting through green rimmed glasses, completely absorbed in the self-appointed work before her. If anything, it served to reinforce Stanza's faith in Celestia’s mental well being. Even while ill, exhausted, and poor health, the alicorn retained the most important quality of a leader: an innate ability to see a pony’s true worth. In many ways, the princess was a far shrewder tactician than anyone gave her credit for. It was a confidence that was fairly new to Stanza, considering that when Celestia first approached to enlist her aid, she had feared the equestrian princess had gone completely mad.

“What? you want me to do... what?” Her prized hardcover copy of Bunni Tzu’s ‘Art of War’ fell to the floor with a thump

“Event planning, at the castle my dear. You can decline if you like.”

“It’s not that I want to turn it down but...” Forced and disingenuous, the statement was complete fabrication. Stanza had wanted nothing more than to shoot the proposition out of the sky. She hated the niceties of nobility. Watching her cousin prance around and artfully maneuver the pitfalls of high canterlot society frequently brought her to the point of nausea. Was she being punished for some unknown transgression? “I’m not particularly good at event planning, your grace. As in, I’ve never even read a book on it. Tactics, I can do. If Equestria is ever threatened by a Draconian invasion, or a Griffon aerial attack, I’m your mare. If you need to know the best way to get a group of ponies into a castle without breaching the walls...”

“You build siege towers... or am I wrong?” Short, to the point, and entirely correct. The retort had caught Stanza completely off guard. As the pink mare attempted to pick her jaw up off the floor Celestia had laughed merrily. “Equestria was not always a place of peace my dear.” Clearing her throat, the alicorn began to recite, “war is of vital importance to the State. It is a matter of life and death, a road either to safety or to ruin. Hence it is a subject of inquiry which can on no account be neglected.’” Recognizing the direct quote, Stanza grinned like a filly, glancing at her fallen book.

“So you’ve read it.”

“Well... keep it a secret, but between you and me, I always thought Bunni Tzu was a terrible pseudonym.” Completely flabbergasted by the revelation, Stanza chided herself. Caught off guard again. If this was a battle, Celestia was in the process of launching the mother of all sneak attacks. Already off-balance, she opted to say nothing, waiting for the Alicorn to continue. Celestia chose her words carefully. “I’m fond of your dancing, but I know you take no pride in it. I know exactly what kind of pony you are, dear, what your gifts are. I’ve read your papers on the old wars, tactical analysis, grand strategy, theories on espionage.” Turning away in an attempt to hide her face, Stanza felt her heart swell from the praise. It was rare that anypony appreciated her true talents. A pony well-versed on wartime tactics was about as out of place in Equestria as an ursa major in the local nursery. After 500 years of peace, it was an unfortunate misconception that those who specialized in such a jingoistic area were practically wishing it upon everyone else, a falsehood that didn’t apply to Stanza in the slightest... If anything, her knowledge led her to be more cautious of war than anypony else... ‘The purpose of war is peace.’

“That doesn’t change the fact that I’m still not sure I’m the proper pony for the job-” Celestia cut her off with a tired hoof, her loving, compassionate facade replaced by an exhaustion that the pink pony could have sworn wasn’t there a mere moment ago.

“War is not the same as it was a thousand years ago, Stanza. You know that, you must know that, as that is the entire reason why there’s not been a conventional war in over a thousand years. Wars are fought now in their prevention. It is something I pride myself on becoming rather skilled at. But the window of opportunity is closing... my influence... wanes. All good things come to an end, the larger the ending, the more monolithic the outcome. But if you control that outcome, can alter the result, potentially until the end of time. I will be completely honest with you, tell you everything at stake, and let you make your own decision. I ask for nothing more than your consideration.”

Hours passed, each stroke of the story painting a picture far more grim than Stanza could have imagined. maintaining her trademark detached analysis was only partially successful; a few times the emotion building in her chest was nearly overwhelming. Even so, the cold strategic analysis did not bode well. She was uncertain this was a winnable scenario... no matter what, even the most optimistic outcome was not really a ‘happy ending’ for anyone. The full weight of the alicorn’s trust began to dawn on her. Nopony, in good conscience, could decline with the stakes as high as they were, and she was no exception. Murphy’s law was Stanza’s everyday mental playground, there was seldom a hypothetical wartime scenario she developed that did not have a touch of dire and a smidge of hopelessness... but these odds were something else entirely. She was enveloped in the tired eyes of the Equestrian princess, the sacrifice and brutality of the tale painted the Alicorn in an entirely new light for Stanza... one that deserved the utmost devotion and respect. Long before Celestia stated her request, the mare had already made up her mind, but that did nothing to lessen the poignant power of the proposal. With it, a ruthless grin began to develop on the princess’ face

“You are to be my most trusted General, Stanza of War. Trot with me into the oncoming storm... it’s a damned battle that may only be won by losing, but one that must never lose it’s meaning, even when all else fades. Will you heed the call of this old mare, of Equestria itself? Will you accompany me into the fire?” The regal nature of the Princess’ words stirred something in her, a hidden, deep desire to make a mark on history she had almost forgotten was there. The idea of managing high society outings was no longer revolting, rather, adrenaline began to kick in as she considered the possibilities: Planned events were meant to be her battlegrounds, the royal guard her troops, and almost everpony else was an enemy. A war of espionage, subterfuge, and inevitable attrition. It was to be her own personal battle of Thermoplyony... this was the call she had been waiting for all her life, beckoning for her to come meet her fate, it’s voice fuguelike, but relentlessly invigorating. Celestia’s ruthless grin was infectious. Stanza took the princesses hoof, the pact already made in her heart long before the words left her darkly smiling lips.

“I’m your mare, Princess. To the bitter end.”

‘A strategy is only as strong as the weakest soldier it relies on.’ Thus, if a strategy fails, then the oversight of the commander is to blame.’

That particular quote of Tzu’s writing had always struck Stanza as somewhat paradoxical. It seemed that if the strategy failed, regardless of the General’s oversight, the fault still lay with the soldier in question. In the process of observing the Royal Seamstress, Stanza had begun to understand the wisdom of the proverb. Recounting her first encounter with Rarity, she put a hoof to her forehead in a grimace. It had been so awkward.

“You are my General, Dear Stanza. But I have a feeling she will become my right hoof. There is far more to her than meets the eye.”

Gritting her teeth and nodding was all that Stanza could do at the time. Having been one of the only compelling examples of any source of conflict in the last thousand years, she had studied the exploits of the six elements of harmony in great detail, and wasn’t particularly impressed. It wasn’t that she disapproved of the nature of their bond: truly, kinship and personal bonds were proven to be incredibly strong force throughout history... she simply found their tactics lacking... substantially. Slipping into her dress from the previous day, she thought back on the events of the night, lost in thought. Frequency of the parasitic shadow’s attacks on Celestia had increased at an alarming rate, almost two or three times a night. Stanza’s nightly protection ward still held off the shadows easily, but the innate power of the onslaught was increasing exponentially. The fact that a single attack had diminished the Alicorn’s considerable power to its current state was incredibly worrisome to Stanza. All it would take was one night of a unexpected surge in power, or a moment she was off guard, and Celestia’s condition would be exponentially worsened, at best. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to force the doubt from her mind.

“You’re curious, right?” The alicorn’s voice pulled her from her thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“If you want to see her in the flesh, I think she’s on her way to visit, right at this moment. You may want to hurry though, we wouldn’t want her to get the wrong idea.” The voice was almost playful

“What idea could she possibly...” Voice trailing off, Stanza became aware of her current state. dress half off, sleep in her eyes, lazily rousing from the royal bedchamber...

Oh, by Luna’s sweet pockmarked moon... this could be a somewhat compromising position. Considering her responsibilities required her to work closely with the princess on an almost nightly basis, she did not need implications like that flying around. In a matter of moments, her dress was thrown on, sleep telekinetically brushed out of her eyes, and she was near galloping out the door like a bat out of tartarus.

“Stanza, dear. Check thine dress.” Stanza looked down, immediately swearing under her breath. The slip was inside out. Otherwise prone to hating her foalish pink coat color, it admittedly came in handy at moments like this, when her cheeks would have otherwise burned brightly. Fixing the misstep took far too long, and as she rushed out, she was mildly disappointed in the personal failure; the alabaster mare in question had clearly seen her leave Celestia’s chambers. Avoiding eye contact was plan B, but even that was botched as she passed Rarity; a quick glance revealed knowing eyes, completely locked onto hers. Awkward as the moment was, the most notable thing about the encounter was the intensity she saw, reflected back in the gaze of the unicorn’s cold blue eyes. In retrospect, she would have thought a pony considered ‘the element of generosity’ would have looked away... rather than look on, unflinching. She would have to observe this pony more closely.

'Observe' was bit of an understatement. Once the plans for the Hearts and Hooves festival had been set in stone, Stanza had shadowed Rarity, keeping a close tab on her habits and tendencies. Any parallels to the flighty, socially obsessed nature of her cousin quickly evaporated, after seeing the alabaster mare’s almost demon-esque level of focus in her research of the armoire. Her nightly responsibilities kept her from constant surveillance, but the Guards were more than capable of filling her in on anything of note that she missed. Rarity’s intensity of focus had only increased, the more she studied of the Royal Armoire. More than a few times she had been told the mare had gone more than a day without eating, or even leaving the storeroom. Against her better judgement, Stanza had gotten in the habit of bringing her something from the royal kitchen, wrapped in plastic, to temporarily mask the smell. Placing it somewhere out of sight, she watched stealthily from the doorway in amusement, as the Unicorn’s stomach would take over her body, trotting about in a daze, searching for the elusive sustenance. More amusing, if not slightly concerning, was the fact she seemed to not care where it came from or whom it was intended for; food was a fuel she needed to push herself farther, and that was the end of it. Stanza herself could not imagine such an ability to focus. Slowly, some degree of respect had grown for the seamstress... then promptly taken a massive dive, the night everything almost fell to pieces.

“You’re not thinking straight Celestia-!”
Stanza didn’t care about the well-being of anypony else at the moment. Rarity’s disappearance into the hedge maze did not justify this level of risk, especially when the entire guard had already begun to search. The nature of the two white ponies relationship was irrelevant, the fact was, between the Royal Seamstress and the Princess of the Sun, the Princess would take precedent, no matter the circumstance. It was beyond mind numbing that the Princess, who by all other measurements was an invaluable fountain of wisdom, was so blatantly opposed to Stanza’s efforts to keep her safe. Celestia angled, trying to stride past her without addressing the concern, but being enrolled in dance lessons since the age of three had not made the pink mare slow on her feet. She sidestepped, rounding on Celestia and blocking her path in an unexpected show of defiance that surprised them both. Eyes narrowing, the princess’ expression, accompanied by two slowly uttered words, their emphasis sharp as a razor’s edge, was a combination that struck an unnatural terror into her very being.

“Move. Now.” Stanza steeled herself, gathering her purpose around her like an armor. It was nearly dark, and despite all the extra magical security the castle provided, the darkness had managed to attack Celestia almost every, single, night. Now she wanted to go outside, and play white knight, rescuing her lost maiden directly under the very nose of the very darkness that was hauntingly persistent in even the most safe environment.

“No.” Treasonous as it might have been, the word was practically spat. Of all the ponies in the world, Stanza could not think of any with stronger willpower than the one that stood before her. This was a pony forged through fire, blood, and the tortuous hoofs of fate itself; flimsy words and tentative pleas for caution would not stir the alicorn. Neither would logic, as she assumed Celestia was more than capable of realizing the dangers. The guards were already out, combing the garden for the lost unicorn. If Stanza could manage to distract her, just long enough, perhaps the guards would find the mare before Celestia forced her way outside. Analytically, her mind was almost overloaded, the strategic conundrum completely foreign to her, the question at hoof almost damning in the very act of considering it.

What would be the quickest and most efficient way to distract an immortal?

It came to her more quickly that she expected, but the nature of the answer made Stanza briefly wonder if the analytical side of her mind had taken a turn for the suicidal.

The answer was simple: Make her very, very, angry.

Celestia’s violet eyes seemed to burn, an acrid darkness flickering violently behind the surface. “I do not rule with fear. That is by choice. But if you intend to play such a vital role, you WILL ADDRESS ME WITH THE RESPECT I DEMAND, AND IF YOU INTEND TO STAY AT MY SIDE, YOU WILL HEED MY WORDS!” The very castle seemed to shake. It had been centuries since the Princess of the Sun had used the royal canterlot voice, even with its speaker in a weakened state it had an edge of terror to it, one that would have set Stanzas teeth chattering if she were any less resolved. But this was no time to falter. She had to push it farther, Celestia could easily fly over her head, abandoning the conversation altogether. Gathering her grit, she did something many ponies wouldn’t have dreamed of. She lashed back at the Princess as harshly as possible, telekinetic slap followed up by words meant to cut much more deeply.

“Why would I stay at the side of someone who’s meant to be so experienced, yet continues to be so utterly shallow.” A look of utter shock temporarily accompanied the red welt on Celestia’s face, though only for a moment, before her expression turned stony. Breathing heavily, Stanza continued to work herself into the most volatile frenzy possible, her words reaching a level of caustic that disturbed even her.

“For all your talk of what’s at stake... what we stand to lose... it’s just that, empty talk. The words might be easy to say: ‘the events of the next six months could echo into centuries, with careful handling, the sacrifices we make will result in the slim chance of the outcome not damaging Equestria in the long run, and if we fail than the alternative could be utterly horrific...’” Her satirized, straw man version of Celestia’s proposition left a bitter taste in her mouth, but she continued. “All of that was utter horseapples. A total lie! You’re not even the slightest bit prepared to make those sacrifices, and nowhere near that forward thinking! Too weak to even cast a simple nightly protection ward, yet you’re actions are no better than those of a filly, willing to run out and blindly risk yourself for a foalish pursuit, without even considering the long standing consequences... It’s a disgrace.”

Eyes closed in an effort to retain her self-propagated rage and a newly acquired sinking feeling of despair, Stanza congratulated herself glumly. There was not leader in history that would take such an outburst as anything other treasonous poison. What she had said was so unfair, so hurtful, there was no way she could apologize for it after the fact. ‘I was just trying to distract you, I didn’t mean it’ was not going to cut it. She waited for what felt like years for inevitable torrent of blows, whether vocal or physical, unwilling to meet the eyes of the princes, the shame of her words cutting her almost as deeply as they were intended to wound the recipient. Whatever Celestia had to dish out, Stanza knew she deserved it. Automatically flinching when the hoof touched her face, she opened one eye, her body still tensing. What she saw was entirely unexpected. Celestia was smiling.

“I chose well. Your dedication is ...remarkable.” This time, as she walked around Stanza, the pink mare did nothing to stop her, completely taken aback by the reaction. Briefly stopping, Celestia turned her head, giving a sideways look. “I admire your courage, my little pony... but your chosen method, a sleight of hand, trying buy time for the guards, sacrificing your own standing in the process...” The princess clicked her tongue. “Sleight of hand is my game, dear Stanza, and I’ve had thousands of years to play.”

The statement threw everything into question. Was Celestia even out of sorts in looking for Rarity, or was it entirely rational? Could the seamstress really be that important? Maybe there was an entire other sub-plan that she wasn’t aware of...

“You are right, of course.” Stanza looked to Celestia, completely confused on what she could have possibly been right about. “Going after Rarity in my current state is foolish; though I am not powerless, any drain on my magic now could tip the scale in one way or another. The smart, logical thing, would be to leave Rarity to the guards, and wait. A drop of sand on an infinite dune, immortality should have at least taught me that, correct?” Receiving a slow nod in response, Celestia continued “From a mortal standpoint, I can see how you would come to that conclusion. But what you don’t understand is what happens after that lesson. You detach, make purely logical decisions... and when you make those sacrifices of the few, who are certain to be lost, for the sake of the many, whose fate is murky at best... you begin to lose your center. Ponies don’t matter anymore, they become numbers, an infinite number of infinitesimal specks on a map that you’re no longer attached to. It’s a path to an empty and cruel existence, one that ends in a manner as tragic as the manner in which it begins.” The foggy, violet eyes carried an unspeakable pain, invoking a second wave of guilt that hit Stanza full force.

“Never cut yourself off from life Stanza. Even as a mortal, it’s a danger that everypony faces. Forming attachments can indeed be a great weakness, topple empires, destroy entire nations. But detaching altogether will destroy you entirely, leaving a frigid puppet as a leader in your place, its strings pulled solely by variables and statistics, devoid of the emotion and heart that made you a leader worth following in the first place.

It was a lot for the pink pony to wrap her head around. But the image of Celestia writing under the pseudonym of Bunni Tzu was no longer a comical to her... rather, it made perfect sense, like the last piece of an ancient, unsolved puzzle finally clicking into place. So much of the princess of the sun’s indentity was a careful mask, manufactured for the good of the masses, carefully tended to and managed to the point Stanza realized that she had no idea where the real Celestia ended and the fabricated one began. Rarity would have her work cut out for her...

Rarity! Stanza had completely forgotten about the ongoing crisis... Celestia was already at the garden entrance, preparing to cross the threshold into the darkness. Turning to Stanza, she gave her a silent look, conveying a question with no need of words.

‘Will you accompany me?’

Stanza smiled widely, preparing to cast the protective ward as she trotted to catch up.

“Into the gates of tartarus itself, my lady.”

Rarity had put Celestia at risk, but she was a completely oblivious offender. Because of the ignorance of it, Stanza couldn’t be nearly as angry with her. But drinking half the royal guard under the table was where she had drawn the line. Coarse as it was, Stanza felt completely justified about use of the bucket of water as a wakeup call. Well... maybe there was a small amount of sympathy, but Rarity’s immediate dubbing of her as ‘the royal consort’ had thoroughly killed any notions of guilt. If anything, she had to hold herself back from going to refill the bucket. After a refresher in dance, they had cleared up their various misunderstandings, and Stanza had explained her true purpose at the castle: Strategic event planning. For the element of generosity to offer her assistance, that much had been expected. What Stanza had not expected was how difficult she would be to get rid of. Six hours of being subjected to said nitpicking later, Stanza was chanting an entirely new mantra to herself:

“I must not strangle the Royal Seamstress...”

AN: Sorry I didn’t get to Twilight at the end of this chapter... but Stanza reached through the monitor and pimp slapped me in the face, demanding I stop being lazy on her character developement. It also was due to the fact I did nothing in the last chap. to clean up the thread of “who the heck is this Stanza pony” from two chapters ago, which I suppose those following had waited more than a month to have resolved. Woops.
Despite the Stanza focus, a LOT of plot points are fleshed out in the Celly/Stanza dialogue, and it (hopefully) offered a fresh perspective on Celestia. Ideally, it came off as much more relevant to the main story than the previous chapter... though I hope I didn’t tip my hand in regards to plot TOO much.