Snit
by Jordanis
First published
Celestia doesn't deal well with being defeated by some changeling hussy. Then things get weird.
After the royal wedding is concluded and everyone is sent home, Celestia sequesters herself to brood over her failure. It's up to Luna and, eventually, Twilight to break her out of her funk.
A delicious blend of alcohol and goading.
The story, or the writing of it?
Yes.
Here's To You, Queen Chrysalis
Celestia was sulking. The entire castle staff was terrified and three-quarters of the way to outright panic. The only thing keeping them from stampeding straight out the door and over the side of a balcony was the fact that Luna had given them the most amazing sigh and roll of her eyes when they had informed her that her sister refused to open her chamber doors.
It was hardly worth getting worked up about, as far as Luna was concerned. Celestia was still moving the sun on schedule, wasn't she? Yes, she certainly was—and that meant it was a minor tantrum on the lifetime Celestia scale.
Why, a day barricaded in her bedroom was nothing, it was a long, long way from measuring up to the best pout that Luna could remember. That time, Celestia had stayed in her room until everypony that could possibly have seen and remembered what happened had died of old age—and there had been an infant at court that day, so she had ended up waiting eighty-seven years. Eighty-seven years of ruling by notes slipped under the doorjamb! Granted, that had been nearly two thousand years ago and they had both been much younger mares then, and also granted, Luna had not read of any notable reclusions taking place during her absence, but... Well. Certainly everypony was panicking prematurely, as usual.
Nevertheless, they already wore on her nerves. No matter how dismissive she acted—even when she changed tacks completely and attempted gentle reassurance!--the castle staff continued to hover at the edge of anarchy. They came to her every five minutes to tell her again and again about how her sister still had not emerged; a different pony every time, but each one sharing the disheveled mane and pinprick, nervously-shifting eyes that were swiftly becoming a palace uniform.
Luna would have to put a stop to it, if only for her own sanity's sake. The moon was nearly full; it was as fine a time as any to confront the daymare in her lair.
***
Luna Revenio, Crown Princess of Equestria, Mistress of the Moon and Stars and Repeatedly Irritated Sister coalesced as quietly as she could from the glittering, dark cloud that had seeped through Celestia's door. The silk-on-silk sound of her passage was not quiet enough, however—before she could take her first step, a goblet clattered to the floor, bent askew by its impact with the wall three feet above Luna's head. The moon princess shook her head silently at her sister's sloppiness, then paced slowly up behind her.
Celestia refused to acknowledge her sister past the welcoming missile. Instead, she glared out the window at her sister's moon and did her best to radiate a simple message: Go away! I'm ignoring you!.
Luna, in turn, did her best to ignore Celestia's ignoring. As the larger alicorn swigged from her glass, Luna snagged the bottle her sister had been steadily emptying into it in the glow of her magic and pulled it over to her nose. The whiff of strong, distilled spirits and apples--mostly, at least--sent her eyebrows crawling up toward her mane.
“Apple-jack?”
For the briefest of moments, panic washed across Celestia's face. Then she realized which applejack her sister meant, and did her best to return to aloof perfection. She was pretty good at that, admittedly.
“Yes,” she declined to elaborate.
A thousand years away or no, Luna could still read her sister like a book, especially when she was sulking. The momentary distress did not go unnoted, unconsided, or uncatalogued--it was all absolutely classic.
With exaggerated casualness, Luna poured herself a glass of the apple brandy. With equal nonchalance, she appropriated the chaise next to her sister and removed the champron she had borrowed from the royal armory. Finally, with a deliberate air of unconcern, she began her probe.
“So, sister. What did we miss at the wedding?”
Luna watched a crack spread across her sister's glass, “You know what happened, sister.”
Luna put a bit of cheer into her voice as she continued, “Oh, not precisely. We gather that thou were beaten, certainly. Hurt. Imprisoned... in an apparently quite repulsive construction of unthinkable changeling secretions.”
Celestia's jaw clenched visibly, but she remained silent. Luna, for her part, glanced up at the ceiling, as if taking a purely academic interest, before concluding, “...all in front of thy faithful student and the other Elements, of course.”
The glass crunched abruptly into a compact sphere of sparkling dust and amber liquor.
“We are sorry we missed it, sister. Truly,” the telekinetic grip on the remains of her drink began to relax, but too soon, “...we would have liked to see the perfect princess out of control.”
That was enough.
The larger princess was silent for a moment, then lunged abruptly for her sister, flinging the remains of her drink aside.
***
Almost immediately, the alicorns burst through the window and onto Celestia's balcony, sending shards of glass tumbling, glittering, into the night air. Celestia was the first to begin pulling manes, and it was in trying to dislodge her sister's grasping teeth that Luna accidentally pushed her over the railing. Unsuccessful at the attempt to untangle herself from Celestia, Luna was immediately pulled by her hair from the top of Canterlot and into thin air.
***
They landed side-by-side on the steep slope of Canterlot mountain with a teeth-rattling thud, but celestial goddesses are made of tough stuff; it wasn't even enough to force a pause in the fight. Somewhere in mid-air, Luna had hooked a slipper in her sister's golden peytral, and now neither piece was anywhere to be seen. No matter. Celestia rolled on top of Luna and wound a hoof back to slap mercilessly at her foe. She didn't get the chance—Luna used the slope to unbalance the larger alicorn and send her rolling downhill and onto her back.
“Ha-HAAAAaaaaa--,” Luna's cry of triumph trailed out into a cry of surprise at the shortness of her victory--Celestia promptly pushed off with a wing to keep the downhill roll going until she was back on top. Luna repaid her in kind, then stuck out a hoof to stop the roll with herself on top, this time. This is when they both discovered their mistake.
Luna's hoof simply bounced them up a bit, and they kept rolling anyway, faster and faster down the mountainside, both voices joining in a ululating chorus.
“WaaaAAAAAAaaaaAAAAaaaaAAAAAaaAAAAAaaaaaAAAAaaaaAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaa...”
Everything was a rapidly spinning blur, and it all came to an abrupt stop with an immensely loud, hollow THUNK and a gentle shower of leaves.
Neither one of them laughed first; it was a mutual decision, a moment of shared sisterly intuition. It started out with gentle chuckles, then they both imagined themselves as a blue and white blur spinning down the mountainside, and it became shared guffaws. Finally, Luna glanced up and broke down completely, falling onto her back and pointing a hysterically shaking hoof at the sign hanging from the tree they had just rolled into. Twilight's library! Oh heavens! Tears streamed down both alicorns' faces, and they leaned on each other for support in their hilarity.
Eventually, the laughter slowed, and Celestia carefully wiped the corners of her eyes with the back of one hoof.
“Luna, really though... you have no idea how disgusting that cocoon was.”
They both dissolved into a new fit of giggles.
***
Twilight awoke, and immediately wished she hadn't. The last thing she remembered was falling to her knees as the entire library shook to an immense impact, and now the only thing she could feel was the sharp pain of an enormous goose-egg on the back of her skull. Opening her eyes, she found herself facing the copy of The Shorter Ox-ford Equestrian Dictionary (A-L) from the top shelf, and drew the obvious conclusion: she had blacked out trying to memorize the dictionary, again, and had repressed the memory of the experience, also again.
She groaned and attempted to struggle to her hooves, then squawked like a surprised waterfowl when she found herself enveloped in an unfamiliar magical field and gingerly lifted onto her hooves. It didn't take her long to find the source of the telekinesis, as that source began speaking to her immediately.
"TWIL--Twilight! We are relieved to see that thou art unharmed!"
Twilight forced her eyes into focus, and her expression drifted into one of confusion. Luna and Celestia were both there, at the library table with the ridiculous stylized equine bust that Rarity kept trying to break, burn, or steal, with a barrel upended between them. Both princesses were wildly unkempt, their manes and tails divided into numerous streams that curled and crossed one another and which each seemed to wave with a different invisible wind. There was dirt rubbed all over both their coats--though it was a bit hard to tell on Luna--and even a few angry-looking scratches showing through the fur. They were both smiling, though--grinning, even!--and even in her daze, something in Twilight latched hungrily onto the contentment radiating from Celestia's features. That was not enough to keep the question from tumbling out of her mouth, though:
“Have you two been... fighting?”
“No!”
“No, no!”
“Certainly not!”
“Unimaginable.”
The alicorns looked at each other.
“I... fell,” ventured Celestia.
“Yes! She fell, and then, ah, we fell trying to help her up.”
“Oh yes! We both fell.”
“Yes.”
“Certainly.”
There was a long pause. Twilight looked from one alicorn to the next, and both princesses held their best beatific expressions, both doing an admirable job, all things considered, of not glancing nervously at her sister.
Luna began to wilt under Twilight's stare, and rose abruptly. She began to approach with a loose, affable gait that seemed to Twilight to be utterly alien for one of the princesses to be using. As she watched Luna come closer, she couldn't help but connect that gait, the princesses' disheveled appearances, and the fact that they were both completely without their royal regalias, and come up with a blush that she did her best to hide.
Luna's brows knitted momentarily, and Twilight felt a familiar magical shift which told her that Luna was now using her telekinesis to give Twilight a once over--all over. Nothing that Twilight hadn't endured a dozen times before at the horns of her doctors, but here--she dipped her head as she blushed a little more deeply.
"Moon's Maria, Twilight! Thou hast taken a terrible blow to thy noggin! We had thought thou had merely attempted to memorize the dictionary again." Luna's tone shifted from declamatory to something gentler, edged in concern, as she continued, "Allow us, please..."
Twilight nodded, and then her whole body sagged in relief from the soothing waves of Luna's healing magic lapping out from the lump on the back of her head.
"Ohhhh, wow... yeah. Thank you, Luna."
A warm smile had returned to Luna's face as she replied, "Always, for--" there was a pause, and her smile turned gently wry, "--my friend."
Twilight smiled at the shared joke, and both she and Luna missed the expression that passed across Celestia's face as she watched the two ponies most precious to her so easily resume such an easy familiarity.
***
Celestia hid her mouth behind the coffee mug full of her student's carefully hoarded cider. She had downed about twelve mugs full so far (being so large made her a very expensive date), and at this point it was enough effort merely to school her eyes to their familiar maternal warmth. Twilight and Luna's conversation had gradually drifted away from her, and she found herself reflecting darkly on how natural it felt to watch, silently benevolent and aloof, as other ponies made friends and enjoyed themselves. A corner of her mind also noted clinically how using the cider as a prop left her drinking more and more of it to keep up the facade.
She hadn't realized she had zoned out completely until she was snapped back into awareness by the sound of Luna giggling--shyly? That wasn't a sound Celestia had heard since... well. Far in the back of her head, the same clinical voice began to pontificate on how good it would be for Luna and Twilight to get together--for both of those precious ponies--but by the time it bubbled up to Celestia's forebrain through the cider, all she could hear was 'glub blub gurgle blub'. She stood up suddenly and swayed on her hooves.
The white alicorn's sudden movement silenced both other ponies, and they both stared at the sun princess with wide, slightly guilty eyes. Celestia paid their reactions no heed, though, and strode across the room to them with truly laudable steadiness. She hauled all six limbs to a stop, looming above the pair and staring down at them for one long moment. Twilight and Luna shared a brief glance before fixing their gazes back on Celestia. Twilight attempted a smile for her mentor, but it came out small and flighty, and melted as Celestia fixed her with the full radiance of her regard.
Before Twilight could gather the courage to ask Celestia what was wrong, the sun princess struck. Celestia dropped to her knees, and her wings snapped forward, the long primaries meeting behind Twilight's flank and brushing it in passing. Twilight startled forward instinctively from the unexpected contact, and that put her right where Celestia wanted her to be. Before the unicorn mare could make another move, Celestia dipped her head and pressed her lips to Twilight's with a burning intensity.
Twilight squeaked at the back of her throat--her eyes were wide and her pupils shrunken, but part of her yielded immediately and eagerly to the press of Celestia's tongue at her lips. It was a demanding, fiery warmth in her mouth, and it was the easiest thing in the world to shut down her mind and give it over to the lust she thought she had corralled, tamed, and broken years ago.
All too soon, Celestia broke the kiss, pulling a noise of protest out of Twilight as she leaned back. She turned her head and regarded her sister with half-lidded eyes. Luna's mouth still hung open in shock, her eyes wide, her brows knit, and her ears folded back in naked betrayal. There was a suspicious moistness in those eyes, and Celestia could see the gears turning in Luna's head as the dark goddess began to gather her hurt into a cloak of anger.
Celestia couldn't stand it. She couldn't let her sister be consumed by such emotions again, so she did the only thing that came to her cider-addled mind: she leaned over and kissed Luna too. Her eyes were screwed up tight, like a pegasus foal throwing herself off a ledge for her first flight, but she lavished Luna with the same intensity and passion she had heaped upon Twilight. When she broke this kiss, Luna was staring at her in a very different kind of shock, taking quick, shallow breaths.
"Tia--! We haven't--!" Luna cut off her own harsh, loud whisper before trying again, "But--not since we created--!"
Celestia interrupted before Luna could find any more protests. The white alicorn was actually smirking, full and lopsided and brazen as could be, “Don't you like me out of control?”
The smaller princess was silent for a moment, then lunged forward and embraced her sister.
***
Twilight awoke, and immediately wished she hadn't. The last thing she remembered was... was... was clearly and definitely a dream that would no doubt spring back to mind and turn her beet-red at the worst possible times for the rest of her life, oh Celestia. Augh, no! Swearing by Celestia was definitely not in order here, oh---something. She'd think up something later. Twilight groaned and draped a foreleg across her eyes, then rolled onto her side. That's about when she woke up the rest of the way, despite her hangover, because she found her nose pressed into the soft, dark fur of Luna's back. Twilight stared at the dark expanse, but Luna continued to snore daintily, curled up in a tight ball with a wing over her face. She found herself remembering her--surely it had been a dream? She could remember so clearly, though, how surprised she had been by Luna's soft coat, and how it had felt pressed up against--
Oh wow. Twilight was certain she had never blushed like this in her life, not even when Celestia had caught her with the copy of the Pony Sutra, and she'd thought she was going to blush right to death then. Celestia had just smiled at her, though, and Twilight had gabbled something about research on pre-classical equine civilization, and, and...
Twilight rolled suddenly to her other side as more pieces of the night fell into place, but there was nopony there, and she felt a strange mix of profound relief and profound disappointment at that fact. She caught a fading whisper of the familiar scent of her mentor's favorite soap, but that was all. She stared out the window at the early-morning sky for a long moment before carefully shuffling out of bed and quietly making her way down the stairs. She was making a direct, focused line for the kitchen, but a strangled, GURK sort of noise stopped her in her tracks.
It was Spike. Sitting in his basket with his knees clutched to his chest, leaning back with the support of his tail flat to the floor behind him. He stared back at Twilight with bloodshot, baggy eyes and pinprick pupils, breathing slowly and deliberately. Suddenly, he stood up.
"I'll be at Rarity's."
Twilight could only nod.
We'd Like to Help You Learn to Help Yourself
Luna levered her eyes open through pure force of will, cracking the gunk that had built up on her eyes over the course of a good day's being passed out through only the greatest of efforts. It was instinct that drove her from her coma—she could feel the moon's eagerness to rise as a pressure at the base of her horn, not entirely unlike the pressure in her bladder. What she really wanted to do, right at that precise moment, was to tell the moon to take a thousand-year adventure into the Oort cloud, but... everypony would complain and probably panic, and use words like 'unilateral' and 'tyrant' and 'ecological catastrophe', and it would just not be worth the trouble. Instead, she took the easy route once again, lifting her head and raising the moon with her eyes screwed shut.
Just like every night, the act of raising the moon was more effective than any cup of anything had ever been at waking the dark alicorn up and, not for the first time, she cursed that fact through a pounding headache. After a brief trip to the temporarily-elevated Little Goddess' Room, she dissolved herself into a mist and wisped herself downstairs—hoofsteps made her head hurt worse.
What she found down there was alarming. Twilight sat at the table with the charming abstract equine bust, and she was surrounded by crumpled papers. No—she was nearly buried in them! Her head stuck out from the center of a piled cone of the stuff, and her horn glowed busily. She was clutching in her magic a broken quill that skittered back and forth across a fresh sheet of paper like a mouse being chased by a cat, but she was staring at no discernible spot in particular, apparently unconcerned about the quill's scribbling—though it looked like she hadn't remembered to dip it in her inkwell for quite some time, so that perhaps did not matter so much. The sound of grinding teeth seeped into Luna's ears, and she winced. That made her head hurt worse too. Still...
She gingerly laid a hoof on Twilight's shoulder (though not before putting together a few cursory wards--she was hungover, not stupid). To her surprise, though, instead of some variety of manic, maniacal, or otherwise extreme reaction, Twilight's shoulders merely slumped, and her quill fell to the tabletop.
The unicorn turned to her, and it was the last thing Luna was prepared for. Twilight's eyes were bloodshot from being rubbed, and accented with dark bags. Fresh tears were brimming as she fixed Luna with her stare, and—oh stars—her bottom lip was quivering. Over the top of the unicorn's disheveled mane, Luna could make out the first three words of Twilight's letter.
Dear Princess Celestia,
Luna's heart sank. The rest of letter was meaningless scribbles and a crude drawing of three ponies, but that hardly mattered. She gathered Twilight up with her front legs and wings, gently patting down the stray frizzies of the unicorn's mane with one hoof. Twilight clung to her fiercely once she was given that permission, and Luna let out a quiet sigh. Damn Celestia anyway... and damn me.
Luna stayed still for Twilight, and Twilight repaid her with a few more tears, which disappeared against Luna's dark coat. Finally, Twilight raised her head, sniffling and wiping the back of one hoof across her muzzle. When she spoke, it was very quiet.
“I'm sorry, Luna, I'm being silly... I was fine when I woke up. A little... um.”
Luna raised an eyebrow, but she paired it with a gentle smile for Twilight, “Um?”
Twilight chuckled weakly, though it was still halfway hysterical, “Um is about right, yeah. But I've been by myself all day, with nothing else to think about,” she looked up at Luna, mournful and deadly serious. Two pieces of crumpled up paper were still stuck in her mane.
“I think I got a little carried away.”
***
Luna had manifested a hoofkerchief and immediately set to cleaning Twilight up, dabbing daintily at the smaller mare's eyes. The attention seemed to calm Twilight down almost immediately—she seemed to reach a sort of zoned-out serenity as Luna brushed out her mane.
Luna allowed herself a small smile. Twilight was certainly cute. She would also... hm. That was a little problematic. Luna wasn't entirely sure what Twilight was now, honestly. The mare had been actually trying, carefully and a little clumsily, to put the moves on Luna last night. Well, maybe more than a little clumsily; she'd obviously gotten her hooves on some laughable tome, but... the flashes of herself in between the anonymous book's instruction had made the whole thing endearing. It had seemed like she was about ready to give up on the book's instructions when... when Celly interrupted them. When they'd both thrown themselves at the elder goddess.
The smile faded from Luna's face. Looking down, she noticed that she had been combing the same lock of Twilight's tail for the last half-minute at least, though Twilight didn't seem to mind, or possibly even have noticed. When she stopped, the unicorn awoke from her pleasant daze and looked up at her quizzically.
Yes, she was certainly cute. Luna took a deep breath.
“My sister will have returned to Canterlot. We should follow her.”
Twilight nodded, silently and solemnly, which only seemed to make her more adorable. Luna suppressed a sigh at her own twitterpated self, then abruptly dissolved into the glittering, quietly chiming mist. She swirled around Twilight, contracted, and shrank them both to a point. They disappeared with a quiet 'poit'.
***
The guards outside Celestia's chambers were already nervous. Most ponies wouldn't have been able to tell, but the pair shared glances frequently, and the pegasus couldn't seem to stop himself from re-adjusting his wings every few minutes. For the royal guard, this constituted a screaming panic; if either one of them had been remotely in the mood for it, they'd have shared a self-conscious grin, thinking about what their drill instructor would have done to them for being so lax.
But they weren't, so they didn't; too busy panicking.
In any case, when the air was rent by an incredible, ear-splitting noise, they both nearly jumped out of their armor. If they'd had the education to know, they would have recognized the sound of an incredibly powerful teleportation impacting an even more powerful ward. What they heard, so far as they could tell, was a gong crossed with a plucked spring--”CRASH-SH-SH-SH-Sh-sh-shhh...”
Twilight and Luna popped into existence in front of them, and Luna already had her head clutched between her hooves, her eyes screwed closed and her teeth gritted. Twilight started toward her, but Luna waved her off, “We are fine. We will be fine.”
Foalish and more foalish; she hadn't hit one of Celly's wards like that in at least three thousand years. Twilight didn't look particularly convinced either, frozen as she was with her hoof half-out to Luna. The dark alicorn put her forehooves on the ground and forced out her best reassuring smile. It was a rictus, she could tell; she couldn't seem to unclench her teeth. Twilight was clearly still unconvinced, but she lowered her hoof, and so it would have to do.
The guard on the left cleared his throat. Strangely, he did not seem to find the sudden presence of the two mares very calming, and Luna made a mental note to quietly resent that at a later date. For now, she had bigger zucchini to fry. Fixing the guards with her very best royal regard down her muzzle, she arched one eyebrow and jerked her head to the side, indicating the stairs down. They got the message, and gladly marched off at about triple-time.
Luna waited for the jingle-jangle of their armor to fade before rapping smartly at Celestia's door, though to Twilight it looked rather like a fairly vicious kick.
“Sister?”
No answer.
“Sister!”
Still no answer. Luna growled under her breath and pounded at the door. As she opened her mouth, some blessed instinct told Twilight to cover her ears. It had been a foreshadowing ringing in her ears, and for a moment, Twilight worried that she had been spending too much time with Pinkie Pie. The thought was shortly blotted from her brain though, even through her hooves.
“SISTER! WE DEMAND THAT THOU OPENEST THIS DOOR AT ONCE, OR WE SHALL... WE SHALL FIRE THE ROYAL PASTRY CHEF!”
Twilight glared at Luna, hissing under her breath, “Petit Four doesn't deserve that!”
Luna looked blankly back at Twilight for a long moment before sighing. “Twilight, may we suggest that thou never playest poker?”
“What--” Twilight plonked back down on her haunches, puzzled and upset; “Why does everypony tell me that?”
Luna didn't answer her; she had returned to inveighing the door and the princess presumably behind it. After a long tirade—Twilight wished she had her notebook, she was sure one or two of the things Luna said implied some very large gaps in the standard history books—Luna had apparently exhausted herself, resting her nose and horntip against the door and panting. Quietly, she tried one last time.
“Sister, please...”
The silence stretched on into the night. Twilight watched Luna quietly as the dark alicorn's shoulders slowly slumped. She rose and approached the door, deciding that she might as well try.
“Princess?”
Nothing changed, and Twilight sagged, a happy little fantasy about her importance to Celestia punctured and deflating with a very sad wheeze in her heart. She opened her mouth again, but stopped short of saying anything more. Before she could button her trap back up and pretend like she wasn't going to do anything, though, she found Luna watching her. The moon princess' expectation was enough.
When Twilight spoke again, she could almost have been mistaken for Fluttershy, “Ce-- um,” she licked her lips nervously.
“Celly?”
The silence afterward was different--as if the stones of the castle themselves were appalled by Twilight's temerity. For a long moment, nothing continued to happen, as it had since they arrived. Just as Twilight began to droop and turn away from the door, there was an echoing CLICK, and the door swung open. There was enough tension in the air that, by all rights, the door should have creaked so loudly as to have been heard back in Ponyville, but the careful ministrations of the palace staff were too much; it opened noiselessly onto the dimly lit chamber.
The pair stepped gingerly into the room, side-by-side. Luna's eyes roved about, looking for anything out of place, but the room seemed to be as it always was—a place to store a bed, a brush, and a liquor cabinet. The fire was out, and Luna noticed the twinkle of shattered glass in the dead coals.
The sun princess herself was seated on the floor at the window with her back to them, a small pile of fine ashes—similar, perhaps, to the remains of papers blessed briefly by the full glory of the sun—making a neat cone next to her. As Luna approached, she caught sight of one yet-surviving sheet laying flat in front of her sister, blank, creamy and perfect save the blemish of one line.
Dear Twilight Sparkle
Ice water—no, dry ice—no, a... a helium slush, hit Luna right between wings and flowed straight down her spine. She pursed her lips, and they worked soundlessly for a brief moment. Her whole body settled with subtle determination, and she raised her chin
“We believe that the two of you have much to discuss. We are expected at night court.”
Luna turned to walk away, and Twilight looked back at her in shock. Her head swiveled to Celestia, who had folded her ears back and let her head sink between hunched shoulders in obvious shame. She settled on the paper for a moment, then returned to Luna, and she could feel her heart sinking into her stomach. What splashed back up was a dose of mad determination. Both princesses suddenly glowed in a violet magical field.
The alicorns were both too startled to slap Twilight's telekinesis aside, and the unicorn lifted them both into the air and set them down facing her at the other two points of a triangle. Then she picked Celestia back up and adjusted her slightly so that the triangle would be equilateral. Both goddesses were too busy staring at Twilight to comment.
With both princesses staring at her, Twilight's mad determination melted right back away.
“Um,”
They continued to stare expectantly, and Twilight sighed and hung her head.
“Princesses,” since she wasn't watching them, she missed the identically pained looks each alicorn briefly bore at the formality, “Please. Don't...” she hesitated again, then her head sunk a little lower, “I'm sorry. I'm damaging your friendship with each other, and it's been very selfish of me. I'll... I'll just go back to Ponyville,” her voice became very small, “I'm not worth you two fighting over.”
Twilight stood to leave; Celestia was the first to recover her voice.
“Twilight,” as always, it was enough to freeze the unicorn in her tracks. Celestia's voice was calm and soothing, though after so many years, it was possible she would have had to try to speak otherwise, “There is no fight, my... Twilight. I have seen the two of you at Luna's telescope, and... I certainly saw the two of you last night,” shame crept into her voice, “I took advantage of the both of you—I can scarcely believe how badly. You and Luna have a bright future together, and I look forward to watching you both,” Celestia flushed, “ah, metaphorically. From a distance.”
Luna was already shaking her head vehemently, “Nay, sister. My first memory upon... being cleansed is of the two of you in an embrace, reunited. You have constructed something very special that long predates my return to the worldly stage. It would be my eternal shame to lay a hoof upon it.”
Twilight leveled a glare of disbelief and irritation at the princesses, and she cut off Celestia's nascent rejoinder sharply, “Okay, what, so neither of you actually wants anything to do with me?”
The way both princesses' eyes flew open in horror was certainly gratifying, but they both immediately fell back to trying to leave Twilight in the others' hooves, and Twilight grew angrier and angrier with them both. She was all the way up to grinding her teeth and trying to glare a hole in the ceiling when a candle-flame suddenly lit itself in her mind. She stared between the princesses for a long moment—they didn't notice, they were both still trying to award Twilight to each other—and began to chuckle.
That shut them up quite quickly. But when they turned to stare at her, the matching miffed expressions only made Twilight break out into full laughter.
“Is there something amusing, Twilight?” The badly-masked irritation in Celestia's nearly sent Twilight into a fresh fit of giggles as she tried to calm down enough to explain herself.
“I just—hee! Whoo. Okay, wow,” Twilight stifled another giggle, then looked up at the princesses with a broad, impish smile, “Do you think,” she began, “Equestria has ever seen a trio of such horrible, inveterate martyrs?”
Both princesses stared at Twilight for a long, long moment, but Twilight kept grinning back up at them. Celestia was the first to crack a smile, but Luna was the first to let a chuckle escape. That set Twilight back off, and that set Celestia off entirely, and pretty soon they were all lying on the floor, laughing at themselves.
As they wiped the tears of laughter from their eyes, Twilight smiled fondly at the celestial sisters. She crossed over and sat herself down between them, and used her magic much more politely than before, gently nudging them both to come to her.
With an alicorn nestled up on either side of her, Twilight radiated an almost unbearable smug contentment. Still... a stray thought from earlier in the day flitted back across her mind, furrowing her brow slightly and spoiling her beatific smile. She shooed the thought away and tried to return to her new-found happy place, but a quiet interrogative noise put a stop to that—both goddesses had been too busy watching her fondly to miss the quick change of expression.
“Um,” Twilight flushed, and an unexpected timidness returned to her, certainly odd given what she'd just pulled with the two most powerful, most beautiful, et cetera mares in the world.
“Yes, Twilight?” Luna managed a quite passable imitation of her sister's teaching voice.
“Weeeell... you know. Most ponies and their sisters, they don't...” Twilight trailed off in embarrassment.
Luna blushed, “Oh. Ah. Yes... well, we were never...” Luna trailed off in turn, and Celestia picked up the thread, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly with one hoof.
“Well, we're not actually sisters. In the, ah, strictly biological sense.”
“Oh,” Twilight blinked, nonplussed. That was... wow, actually pretty huge. She took a long moment to try and process that revelation, and reached one inescapable conclusion.
“...it's still really hot.”
Most of All, You've Got to Hide It From Your Friends
Rarity was actually, honestly, bouncing around her workroom, humming with the kind of good cheer normally reserved for high praise from Hoity Toity, or the successful destruction of an unworthy Haute Couture rival. She even had to pause, periodically, to let out a fit of joyful giggles; if any of her friends had seen her like this, they would have been frozen in slowly mounting terror.
To go with all that cheerful bustling, her mouth was bent into an almost painful-looking grin, and above all... above all, her eyes sparkled like the diamonds on her flanks, beaming with a very special joy. It was not the joy of a successful fashionista with a freshly-burnished ego, but of someone whose long, hard work had paid off beyond her wildest dreams; someone who had spent her time in the trenches of did-you-see-Moondancer-and-Lily-last-night?, who had paid her dues to the so-how-are-you-and-Big-Macintosh-getting-along? union, and who had been rewarded for her diligence with the most amazing, most exquisite, most one-of-my-best-friends-has-been-involved-in-a-royal-ménage-à-trois-sized pieces of gossip ever to grace the entire nation of Equestria.
It was wonderful. It had fallen right into her lap. Nopony else knew a thing. Well—that wasn't strictly true; Spike had told her everything she knew, but the poor, sweet dear didn't seem to know what any of it meant. As he'd related it, the princesses had showed up, there'd been some kind of commotion downstairs while he tried to sleep upstairs, and then the three had all come up, Celestia had shooed him out, and there had been quite a lot more commotion while he tried to sleep downstairs. He'd dropped right back off after relating the tale, but some of the... impressions he'd done while telling the story had been... truly enlightening. Yes. Rarity was only glad she had been rummaging in a chest at the time (hunting gems to treat her widdle Spikey with); she'd blushed more than enough to be noticed by even a very tired baby dragon, and that was an explanation she did not want to make. He'd been so adorable—hugging her leg, leaning on her shoulder, trailing faithfully along behind her so close to have been practically in her tail—that she simply couldn't bear the thought of having to... explain things.
Nevertheless! What she knew was enough. More than enough to make a lever to pry a certain purple unicorn all the way open to reveal all the wonderful, juicy details. She couldn't wait until Twilight got back to Ponyville.
***
Twilight couldn't wait to get back to Ponyville. Not that she'd wanted, exactly, to leave the pr—er, Celestia and Luna, she corrected herself—behind, but staying in Canterlot would have been unwise.
First, she had responsibilities to the Library. She needed to open and pony the checkout desk against the day—coming very soon, she was sure—when someone in Ponyville would need a copy of Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About Wood (But Were Afraid to Ask), or The Joy of Astronomy, or The Perfumed Garden of Linear Algebra, or possibly even the ancient UdyAna Sutra—though privately, Twilight worried that everyone already had copies of these superlatively useful volumes. Despite that possibility, Twilight took her duties as a librarian seriously. Anyway, if the library stayed closed, someone might notice, and ask where she'd been.
She also needed to check on Spike, of course. If he stayed at somepony else's place for too long, they might notice, and ask where she'd been. And one of her friends might need something; if she wasn't there, they'd notice, and ask where she'd been. And no doubt Pinkie Pie would throw some kind of party tonight, and if Twilight wasn't there, her friends would notice, and ask where she'd been. And what if an Ursa attacked town again! If she wasn't there to fend it off, everypony would notice, and they'd all ask where she'd been!
Finally, and above all, she needed to return to Ponyville to make absolutely and totally certain that nopony asked her where she'd been.
Fortunately, she had a plan.
***
Twilight was getting a little frustrated. Her first plan had been foiled when the guards had politely declined to let her back in to the Starswirl the Bearded Wing without Celestia's express permission. She'd chuckled good-naturedly and told them she only wanted another look at Starswirl's time-stopping spell, but for some reason that only caused them to come to full attention and then to physically bar the door with their wings. This also put paid to Plan B (mass hypnosis) and Plan C (large-scale illusory fire to cover her entrance).
Plan D had been discarded quickly—the only coat dye available in the palace of sufficient quantity was guardspony white.
Plan E died for a lack of volunteers—after asking to borrow the wings of the first couple of pegasus guards—perfectly safe magic, absolutely, positively, only a tiny possibility that the wings wouldn't return to their rightful owner when she was done with them!—there had apparently been some kind of shift change and all the guards were unicorns and earth ponies for some reason.
And so she sat and huffed quietly, trying to come up with a Plan F. Maybe if she just walked calmly and quietly into town and pretended nothing had happened...?
She wrinkled her nose skeptically. Maybe Plan G would be better.
***
Twilight absently patted several stray hairs back into place in her mane as she peered over the lip of the chariot. Ponyville was far below, and the two guardsponies pulling the vehicle were pulling just fast enough to keep them all from stalling and falling out of the sky. The new plan—plan X, in fact—was simple, and Twilight was actually quite proud of its elegance, never mind how many tries it had taken her to think of it. The chariot she was in would never, in fact, land in Ponyville: she would simply teleport herself directly from it to her library. Much tidier, in fact, than its direct predecessor. Even given the, uh, new relationship dynamics, she didn't think Celestia would have been pleased with her if she'd used Miss Smarty Pants to distract the whole town again while she sneaked back in.
She frowned in concentration. Now, this would be rather tricky—she needed to properly bleed the differential momentum during transit or oh Sun, there was Rainbow Dash coming over to see why there was a royal chariot in Ponyville airspace. Twilight promptly flashed out of existence.
She reappeared precisely where she meant to, hooves planted firmly on the library floorboards. Immediately, she fell over sideways, skidding and rolling across the floor in the direction the chariot had been moving and making a less-than-graceful conversion of her kinetic energy to heat energy via the magic of friction. Her entropic journey came to an abrupt end against a bookcase, which welcomed her home by dumping its contents in a heap on her head.
Being covered in books was actually rather soothing, and Twilight resolved to stay there for a little while longer. Unfortunately, her meditation was almost immediately cut short by the sound of hurrying hooves and the quiet sparkle of a unicorn's magic. Twilight was disappointed on more than one front.
The books whisked themselves away from in front of Twilight's face, and the purple mare found herself nearly nose-to-nose with her marshmallow friend. She blinked. Rarity grinned broadly. Twilight shrank back, trying to let a few books fall between them; Rarity kept them propped out of the way.
...dontaskdontaskdontask...
“Twilight, darling, it's so good to see you! I just wanted to let you know that Spike is still sleeping at the Boutique.”
Rarity's smile was dazzling, with a terrifying predatory edge. Twilight's smile was transparently forced, with a definite air of cornered quarry. She opened her mouth to speak, but Rarity rolled right over her.
“So Twilight, dear Twilight... where have you been?”
It's a Little Secret, Just the Princesses' Affair
Getting a day's reprieve (once Twilight and Luna had arrived, at least) had been lovely, but Celestia could not hide from Court for long; not if she wanted to avoid an open panic from either her subjects (The princess is gone!) or herself (The paperwork has swallowed my desk!). As such, Court—or rather, Day Court, now—began again as usual the very next day after Twilight delivered her little Dear Both Princesses, Why Don't We Calm Down, Stop Trying To Piously One Up Each Other, and See If We Can't Enjoy Ourselves speech.
Celestia, however, was having trouble focusing on the proceedings. It had been all very good for Twilight to say a few soothing words and pull them all into a lovely three-way snuggle, but not much had actually been... decided, or figured out, or anything, really. They'd all gotten rather distracted. Now, though, without the warm, soothing glow of Twilight or Luna's presence, the worries were pressing down on her again, like the yoke of an ancient, rusted plow.
Well, that metaphor didn't quite work. She moved the sun every day, after all, and the sun was quite a bit heavier than any yoke, and took more effort to move than a blunt blade ever had through dirt that any pony had ever tried to farm. She filed that one away under 'needs work'.
Anyway, it really was ludicrous, she was beginning to fear. She couldn't be reviving the old... thing with Luna at this late a date. They couldn't possibly manage the modifications to the histories without using a bit more truth than she particularly cared to. And Twilight--! Sun and sky, it would take a century at least for her to live down bedding her own student before she'd even graduated. Though... what was a century of embarrassment for her, measured against a fleeting few decades of joy? On the other hoof, what would ponies say to her poor Twilight?
What a mess. What a mess.
Celestia chased herself round and round the inside of her own head for most of court. There was certainly nothing better to think about. Certainly nothing more useful:
No, Fancypants, the budget already groans under the weight of the current allotment for statuary. We do not need another work featuring Fleur, not even if the sculptor tacks on wings and pretends it depicts Luna.
No, Marshall, the Guard is quite adequately funded to meet any conceivable threat that it could possibly hope to fight. No, we will not draft the Element Bearers!
No, Prince Blueblood, you may not mount a punitive expedition on Ponyville. No, nor Manehattan, nor the Kingdom of Griff, nor even Zebrica, as tempting as it would be to have you out of our hair for that long.
Why yes, minister Skulking Shadow, we would be interested in reports regarding possible changeling activity.
Wait, wait, hold on one moment. What was that last one?
***
Twilight ran for her life.
Well.
Maybe not her life per se. But definitely her life in a metaphorical sense. Her life as a mare who had not admitted to Rarity that she had drunkenly slept with both princesses, perhaps. Her life as a mare who did not, in fact, call her lifelong mentor and idol 'Celly' in public, possibly. Yes, in those senses, she was definitely running for her life.
Rarity was calling something after her. She couldn't make out what, but it definitely sounded like it was spoken through that horrible, wolfish grin. Twilight ran faster.
Her desperate gallop conveyed her straight out of town. Self exile? she asked her hooves, Desperate, but possibly the correct move in this case. Her hooves had no words to answer her with, so she slowed to a fast canter and relaxed into a faraway frown as she considered her options. A mere withdrawal to Manehattan or Vanhoover, or a full retreat to Draconia? Staying inside the borders would be much simpler, but it would also be easier to find her... maybe if she stayed on the move?
Twilight was too deep in thought to see Applejack, and Applejack was too busy pulling a cart in the opposite direction to see Twilight. The collision was gentle, and didn't destroy anything, which was surprising considering the way Twilight's day had been going so far. She shrieked in surprise and alarm anyway.
“Whoa, sugarcube,” exclaimed Applejack, who was put on edge by the shriek in a way that a simple little bump just can't manage, “what's got you so durn jumpy?” There was warmth and concern in the earth pony's voice, but Twilight was in no condition to hear it.
Twilight squeaked out “Nothing!” in reflex, then paled. This was Applejack. She had just lied to Applejack. A moan of despair escaped her lips involuntarily as she backed away with wide eyes.
Applejack, for her part, took a tentative step after the retreating unicorn. It wasn't nothing, that was certainly clear to her. It would also have been clear to a blind diamond dog. If she could just get Twi to take a moment, catch her breath, and tell 'ole Applejack about it...
Applejack's hoof fell, and Twilight squeaked again in time with the soft clop. Her horn blazed, and she winked away without looking where she was going.
***
Teleporting blind is extremely dangerous. The nature of the spell causes whatever one is winking into to move aside to allow one to materialize. This works great in the open; that's what produces the familiar gentle puff of displaced air that accompanies an arriving unicorn. It also works fairly well for the unicorn herself if she is arriving underwater, though whoever she's visiting will probably get a good tumble.
Solids, too, will be pushed aside by the spell. On the one hand, this keeps one from mistakenly splicing one's brains with a wall. On the other hand, displaced solids tend to either bounce right back to where they had just been (crushing the hapless teleportee anyway) or, if enough energy has been dumped into the spell, they will continue on the path they'd just been set upon.
Fluttershy's living room wall was a humble thing--softwood framing covered in simple plaster over straw.
It exploded.
It was not a load-bearing wall, fortunately, so Twilight was able to stand where it had been and pant out her panic without the roof falling on her head. She stared sightlessly into the forest for several heaving breaths, trying desperately to collect herself and form some kind of plan.
She drew one last, shuddering breath, and began to leave the cottage behind at a slow trot. She'd have to send Fluttershy an apologetic letter later, from Zebrica or Camelopardia.
Twilight rapidly considered and discarded various plans for crossing the Equestrian border undetected. Behind her, a yellow pegasus emerged from under her couch and began to slowly flutter after her unicorn friend with a look of grave concern.
***
Rainbow Dash stood upon a cloud and scowled. She'd already busted enough cumulus to make Cloudsdale happy (ten seconds yadda yadda; already bored), and she was at loose ends. The guard pegasi who had been drawing the royal chariot she'd seen had been stern and unyielding—no fun at all, and supiciously silent about what they'd been doing in her sky. An empty chariot was a pretty weird thing to be dragging around over Ponyville, but they hadn't cracked under her expert interrogation, so she had resolved to bide her time.
She looked down from her perch, and noticed Fluttershy floating gently at flight level double-zero. She couldn't help but smile fondly, but she wondered what 'Shy was up to—she was moving pretty fast, for her, and straight on and deliberate. Her eyes drew an automatic line straight out on 'Shy's heading, and she frowned. That looked like Twilight, but she was alone, and running hard. Something must be up Only one thing for it, then! Dash jumped and leaned backwards, flipping herself off the cloud and into the air, and accelerating toward Twilight. She'd find out what was going on. She didn't worry about collecting the rest of the girls, though--no doubt AJ and Pinkie and Rares would come running to see why she was being so awesome this time.
***
Twilight was trapped. Rainbow Dash had swooped in out of nowhere, dive-bombing and forcing her to her belly to save herself. She had risen and turned to flee, but Dash had simply kept right in front of her, about a pony-height above Twilight's head, lounging on her back with her wings rowing lazily.
Stupid stupid stupid! In her panic, she'd run straight back the way she'd come, and there had been Fluttershy, who had alighted carefully before her as she'd skidded to another halt. When she'd turned to flee again, Applejack and Rarity had come running up from town, Spike riding on AJ's back and frowns creasing their brows. They were frowns of concern tinging on panic, kindled by Twilight's hysterical flight, but all Twilight could see in them was judgement and anger.
Twilight wheeled one more time, rearing on her hind legs and kicking at the air with an involuntary whinny, but Pinkie Pie was already, unaccountably, there. She burst from a bush between Twilight and the Everfree, in a cloud of multicolored leaves that had been hastily cut into square confetti. She was smiling, but Twilight could see it was a bit forced. No doubt trying to mask her disgust with the purple unicorn.
But she was definitely trapped. Trapped trapped trapped. Trappety trapped. Four ponies on four sides, and Rainbow turning tight circles overhead. Nopony below her, though, and she considered tearing a tunnel into the ground to escape with her magic.
Oh...
Magic. Right.
She began to charge up her horn again, and all five of her friends started toward her, their faces (even Pinkie's) etched with concern and worry.
And that's when Spike threw up a scroll with Celestia's seal on it.
Author's Notes:
Admit it, you all thought I was dead, didn't you?
Well, I'm not. I'm a shambling horror of an undead construct, cruelly reanimated to write.
I hope you like it.
Where Have You Gone, Queen Chrysalis?
Earlier...
Luna's chambers were a study in contrast to Celestia's, in more ways than one. There was the obvious difference in palette, of course—navy and blacks and aqua accents, as opposed to whites and golds and the burnished copper of sunrise. More than that, though, Luna's apartments were sumptuous, comfortable, royal. Where Celestia had a bed and a liquor cabinet, and simply wrote in mid-air without a desk, Luna's walls were lined in tapestries and dark velvet hangings, with thick curtains to block out the light from the windows. Her walls were lined with shelves, and the shelves were lined with countless books. The bed was four-posted, and hung with dark blue tulle. The desk was large enough for three ponies to have quite a bit of fun on.
Celestia had picked the books out of the archives for her, before her return. Half were ones she thought Luna would like, based on millenia-old memories, and the other half were ones she thought Luna would need to adjust to the new era. The bed and desk had been comissioned by the solar princess in the time leading up to the fateful thousandth Summer Sun Celebration, painstakingly crafted in a style a thousand years old.
They reminded Luna strongly of a bed she had wept bitter tears of jealousy into, and a desk that had seen the first drafts of a spell that had darkened her coat, sharpened her teeth, and granted her the power to challenge her sister. She quite liked some of the things she had seen more daring unicorn smiths do with steel and glass since her return, but she hadn't found it in herself to tell Celestia so.
Whether she liked the aesthetic or not, however, Luna slept in the bed. She thought she'd rather earned some rest after everything that had happened. Indeed; Celestia back in court, Twilight back in Ponyville—a good evening's work for a princess, and one that deserved a good day's rest.
The doors burst open anyway, with no respect for Luna's efforts. The slam of the heavy wood against the wall was muffled slightly by the tapestries, but it was still quite loud. Luna, curled up in the center of the bed, found herself suddenly standing in the center of the bed, hooves splayed and set in readiness, and wings spread to flee or fight. Her eyes focused on Celestia in the doorway, and later, she would find the time to be ashamed that she did not immediately relax upon recognizing her sister.
Celestia, however, either did not notice Luna's wild eyes, or did not care. She began to speak without preamble, “Pack your saddlebags. There are changelings in Roan Mesa, and you and I are going to dig them out.”
Without waiting for a response, the white alicorn turned on her hoof and strode off, leaving a wide-eyed Luna behind, wondering at the venom in her sister's voice.
***
“...and so, we ask all of you to accompany us to Roan Mesa, so that we might discover whatever truth there may be in our sister's supicions. We will meet all of you in front of Twilight's library in a quarter turn—Celestia is bent on proceeding immediately, and that is all the time we may grant you.
Yours, ever in gratidude,
HRH, Princess Luna Revenia”
Six ponies regarded each other with wide eyes as Spike finished reading the letter, Twilight's panicked flight momentarily forgotten. It was Applejack who spoke first.
“Welp. If ah run, ah can just make it. Ah'll see y'all there.”
That fractured the stillness. All six ponies made for their homes and the Harmony Crisis Bags they had taken to keeping in perpetual readiness, but not before Rarity could arch an eyebrow and smirk at Twilight while the purple unicorn levitated Spike onto her back. Twilight, for her part, did her best to ignore it. World-threatening crisis now, panic later—that was a rule that had served her well time and again.
When she arrived back at Golden Oaks, she ripped a well-worn checklist from the day desk by the door.
Spike distracted by the topaz cache? Check.
Saddlebags? Check.
Quills? Check.
Ink? Check.
Hermetically sealed backup ink? Check.
Parchment, and likewise backup parchment? Check.
Field notebook? Check.
Duplicate backup notebook stowed in the safe as insurance against the inevitable accidental destruction of her current notebook? Check.
Bandages in case Fluttershy runs out? Check.
Concentrated alfalfa energy bars in case Applejack runs out of apples? Last rotated 37 days ago, so Check.
Needle and thread in case Rarity loses hers? Ow, and Check.
Daring Do short story collection to keep Rainbow from wandering off? Check.
Spare packet of confetti for Pinkie Pie? Check, and check.
Somehow, Twilight managed to close her bags and step out her front door. She was alone.
***
Twilight was the last to arrive, despite being the meeting point being outside her front door. In fact, she closed her door just as the quarter-turn ended, and any attempt anypony might have made at asking her what the earlier running and yelling and screaming had been about was cut short by the arrival of a starry black cloud, and the princess that assembled herself from it.
Luna opened her eyes as she coelesced, and smiled. The Elements had risen to her call! Logically, rationally, she had known they would, but... it was gratifying, nonetheless. Her smile faltered to a slightly uncertain one as she tried to find the words to address her assembled saviors.
“My,” there was just the slightest of pauses, “friends, we—I—am happy to see you are all ready to proceed. Gather close, please, and w—I will conduct you to Celestia. There is no time to lose. We will answer your questions in time, Rainbow Dash—for now, we must make haste.”
Dash was scowling as she closed her mouth again, and narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Luna. When the rest of her friends crowded wordlessly around the dark princess, though, she joined them. Luna's form puffed back into insubstantiality, surrounded the six ponies, and began to shrink. Years of acrobatics had given Rainbow a cast-iron immunity to motion sickness, but as Luna's magic shrunk the group to a singularity, the pegasus could feel her stomach being left behind.
***
Luna's presence around them was cool silk, and so the heat hit them like a body blow when they arrived. The starry mist deposited them on a sun-baked flat of cracked earth. To their left, railroad tracks gleamed in the merciless light, and on the horizon, a mesa rose from the plain, its yellow base fading to a red top. To their right, the insubstantial presence of Princess Luna fled to the shade of a rocky outcrop to coalesce as a pony, her eyes shut, her mane and tail lank, and her body already showing a sheen of sweat.
In front of them stood Princess Celestia. Her coat was as pristine as any day in court, and her mane waved gently in an unfelt breeze, just as it had for every day of Twilight's life. She did not squint, despite the harsh glare of the sun, but her stare was hard and flinty, and her mouth set into a stern line, with just the hints of a twisted scowl at the corners of her lips. Twilight reached up and pressed a hoof to the top of her head, as if to hold in the wild snarls of her mane that threatened to overwhelm her at the sight.
The air shimmered before the Princess, and Twilight distracted herself by examining the spell. She recognized it as a simple cantrip for altering the refractive index of a material. It was something she had used herself to make tiny adjustments to the glass of instruments in her lab, but Celestia was strong-horning the air itself into acting as the lenses of a pair of binoculars—not only holding part of the air in her iron field and forcing it to act as one unit, but applying a gradient adjustment effect to create the magnification she desired. She was peering down the railroad line, where Twilight thought she could make out a dark smudge on the horizon through the shimmer of heat rising from the ground.
Celestia did not look back over her shoulder at the new arrivals. She didn't even acknowledge her sister's arrival—she simply began to speak.
“I have had the town in sight for the last quarter-turn, and there has been no movement. There is a train at the station, but it is cold—no smoke, no steam,” the magnification spell in front of her muzzle winked out, but she continued to stare at the smudge (Roan Mesa, I presume, thought Twilight) unblinking. “We should overfly the town, and see what else there is to see.”
Rainbow Dash immediately swept into the air, coming to a hover above and in front of Celestia.
“All right!” she cried, grinning and saluting in mid-air, “Which side do you wanna take, Princess?”
Celestia was frozen in place, staring at Rainbow. It didn't really look that way, of course—in her surprise, muscle memory had taken over, conditioned by countless court sessions made of up even more countless* attempts to put her off-balance. Celestia's face never missed a beat, no matter what inchoate flailings made up her thoughts.
After about three moments too many, she finally found her voice, sliding automatically into the diplomatic case. “Ah, Rainbow Dash,” she finally spoke. A gentle smile spread across Celestia's muzzle. It was a number fifty-seven, gentle humor.
“I'm afraid you might be a bit... visible for reconnaisance work. You... stand out,” Celestia paused, and one corner of her mouth twitched up in a sly half-wink, “Impressively, of course, but it draws attention.” Celestia frowned in thought for a moment before continuing, “If you would, however, take a position at about two hundred hooves, and watch for movement from the town...?”
Rainbow's ego visibly deflated, then reinflated as Celestia spoke. She saluted again before shooting straight up into the sky to take up her assigned task for as long as she could stay interested in it. In the meantime, Celestia frowned, and paced over to her sister.
“Luna.” She paused politely to allow the darker alicorn to reply, but Luna merely nodded, and waited silently, watching her sister warily. Celestia had been expecting as much, so she continued without further preamble.
“We need to talk.”
*Ruminations on the difference eventually led one of Celestia's previous students, Cardinal Counter, to publish several rather influential papers on countable and uncountable infinities.
Author's Notes:
Merry Christmas, my dear, delightful readers.
This throws the model of my update timing completely out of whack, though.