Like so many days, Celestia operates as if she is in two places at once. One side has a cool breeze over her coat that tickles her nose with smells of cider, a musky petrichor seeping from the nearby Everfree, and sweaty ponies frolicking in a warm spring day. A heavy contrast to the steady breeze in her office that blows one page after another off the stacks of reports the Ravens so helpfully collate. She scans, continuously, though for a purpose that currently eludes her: her Sister is safely at her side, there seems to be no imminent danger imperiling the entirety of Equestria, and the only incoming threat she can detect is the soft crunch of grass under not-hooved limbs.

“Resting after a hard day’s work?” Doug quips to Celestia, stretching out his arms just before he plops down next to the ponyloaf Princess. He wraps one around her withers, fingers tickling the hair along her golden peytral, while the other swirls what is likely to be the last glass of cider for the day. One leg stretches out in front of, a hand running down what must be sore muscles from running the treadmill. He’s obviously glad for the brief break before he needs to return to his other day job. “Can’t say there’s much better than that.”

Celestia releases her suite of clairvoyance spells, devoting her full attention to studying Doug. She can’t immediately tell if he’s commenting on her perceived lack of contribution to the cider-making process, a fact she feels only slightly guilty about - it certainly wouldn’t do to outshine the Apples on their own turf - or merely remarking on the meaning of life. More than a millennium of experience lets her read her little ponies with frightening precision, a vast reservoir that makes some regard her as prescient. All of which is worse than useless when dealing with him.

So she relies on what she can tell, observing a little closer. She can’t detect any animosity in his tone, the hand at her side rubs instead of needles, the strokes aren’t forceful enough to indicate a desire for intercourse, and any entrenched barbs in his words are often a sign of familiarity and closeness as opposed to hostility. But it is the ‘oftens’ that often bite her in the flank, where the alien viewpoint he brings (a perspective that seems founded on scarcity and entropy) runs counter to that of her little ponies. But it isn’t every time, or even most; no, it is just infrequent enough to lull her into complacency.

“Made all the sweeter when it is with those we love,” Celestia remarks, smiling fondly. He’s too far back to rest her head against his chest, one of his favorite positions to cuddle, so she settles for unfurling her wing around his back, enjoying how he leans into the sturdy appendage.

The corners of Doug’s smirk pull slightly higher. “Good thing your Sister is here or I might be worried you’re talking about me.”

Celestia steals a glance at Luna; apparently the tree under which she has sought refuge from the sun’s tender rays has proven insufficient, as her wing shades her eyes while she snoozes. Perhaps that was the cause for his comment; last night had been particularly turbulent for the Harbinger of Night, what with the fate of the Princesses unresolved in her little ponies’ minds until they read the morning newspaper. And, despite her tendency to come across as a bit of a grumplewumpus during the dawn, her objections to him helping tame her unruly mane and coat are ignored as routinely as if she is one of his foals insisting on ice cream for breakfast. Objections, she notes, her Sister makes neither as strenuous nor as repeated as she is capable.

She chuckles to herself, allowing any reservations about his feelings to fade away. Her worry failed to come to pass, as so many of her worries turn out, but that does not stop her from preparing contingencies to her backup plans.

Rather than answer with words she turns her head and meets his eyes with a certain lasciviousness. She leans; the tip of her nostril leaves a wet smudge on his nose before they both twist, turning their nuzzle into a long, tender kiss. It makes her a little giddy, that electric jolt between them, a heady reminder of their joining a little more than five weeks ago. She detects the faint click and whirr of a camera from high above. She’ll need to inquire about getting a copy from Sight Seer; at least, a higher quality one than they print in the papers.

“Okay,” Doug ruefully concedes as he pulls away just a fraction. He grips her side considerably more forcefully, tugging himself against her. “You win this round.”

He snatches a quick peck before relaxing into her wing, the two happy to watch the rest of the herd share their fond farewells. Rainbow Dash grabs a pack of ciders, delivering them to the pair of Wonderbolts capping high above. Rarity chats with a few Ponyvillians, her focus occasionally flashing toward Ponyville, likely hoping to eke out some productivity before the day is done. Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie gather the foals and fillies, departing with Applejack to prepare dinner, with a high likelihood of a Partnership-inspired party in the works.

“So, what brings you out to Ponyville in the first place?” Doug’s question catches her slightly off guard, though he covers her lack of quick response with a rumble in his throat and a slight frown. “It can’t just have been to spend more time with me. Or to drink this cider. Not that I would blame you if that is the case. It is a magnificent cider.” He takes another sip, lets out a contented sigh, then glances to the side and meets her eye. “Or is sitting around like this your ideal vacation?”

“Vacation? Hm…” Celestia taps her hoof against the ground, hamming it up as she pretends to seriously consider the question. “Vacation, vacation, vacation…” She takes a long, telling glance at the sky. “No, I dare say I’ve been working this entire time.”

“You dare?” Doug chuckles as he joins her in looking up at the sun. “Okay, okay, sure. So, if you didn’t have to be working, what would you rather be doing?”

“That implies that I’m not already doing it,” Celestia quickly retorts, squeezing Doug against her. She leans back for a quick smooch, curious if the camera will go off again. It does. “I find my work travels with me. Or, perhaps more accurately, I carry it wherever I go. I find meaning in watching over my little ponies, ensuring their protection and survival. And in observing them as they struggle and succeed and mature. It brings me joy.” Her lips pull tight. “If I had to, if I was forced to give that up?”

A few moments pass in silence as she considers.

“I think,” Celestia finally says, then stops. Her frown deepens. “To be completely honest, I think I would pursue danger. Thrill-seeking.”

“Really?” Doug asks, somewhat askance. “Because you don’t have enough of that in your life?”

“I have always carefully considered any and all risks,” Celestia answers, very little jest in her tone. It is a topic she discusses with a select few of her closer advisors, and even then only in very constrained ways. “For nearly a thousand years, there have been no others to take over should I falter. Should I grow sick, or injured, or otherwise incapable of fulfilling my duties over the sun and moon.”

“Didn’t the unicorns do that under Star Swirl?” Doug asks, having heard the tale one of the many times Twilight gushed about her idol.

“Yes,” Celestia concedes with a guarded frown. “Perhaps the unicorns would again prove sufficient to keep the skies turning, but that is not an outcome I would wish on anypony.” She pulls her wing away to roll and flip over such that her back is against the ground and she can stare up at the sky. Her wing stretches out again, across Doug’s shoulders as he lays back. “How long has our world been afflicted so? I cannot say. But we have all been fortunate that nothing has befallen us that is so terrible we cannot recover.”

“That sounds like the anthropic principle,” Doug comments. When Celestia raises an eyebrow quizzically he continues, “Um, something along the lines of, the only reason we are here today and capable of asking this question is because nothing so devastating has happened to keep us from asking it. Regardless of the probabilities of such a thing happening.”

“Ah,” Celestia says. “A survivorship bias, though with none of the benefit of modifying our behavior to make continued survival more probable.” She shakes her head with a certain moroseness, thinking back to all the time she threaded the needle to bring Equestria to its current state. “It certainly did not feel certain when I lived through it.”

“Huh,” Doug says thoughtfully. “You know, I never thought about that principle having no predictive power. Makes it only good as a thought experiment.”

“Speaking of thought experiments,” Celestia starts, though trails off. She ponders for a second before turning to regard with a serious expression. “Are you aware you throw a wrench into my carefully laid plans?”

“That depends.” The corner of Doug’s mouth pulls briefly. “Are you calling me a monkey?”

Celestia doesn’t miss a beat. “Only insofar as you ape those around you.”

“Touché.” Doug’s fingers play with her coat, and any sense she has of him resenting her getting one up on him dissipates. “Let me guess. You wanted Cadance to take over the Crystal Empire?”

“It seemed only natural,” Celestia confesses, with a hint of regret in her voice. “While I have kept Equestria relatively unchanged for my Sister’s sake, the Crystal Empire likewise would not suffer a massive shift when they returned. It would allow a Princess to resume her rightful position, as a leader of ponies. But with your introduction of democracy…”

The fingers along her coat slow, drawing a worried glance from Celestia. Did I offend him greatly?

“You now have an untested dragon running things,” Doug finishes, contemplative more than condemning.

“A position I am… mostly sure he will fill to great acclaim,” Celestia says. A glance from Doug shows her hesitation was considerably more noticeable than she intended. Alas, the tenet of Honesty in all things. She feels the need to defend herself. “While I would trust Twilight Sparkle with any task, I am less confident in her ward. As well, he is a dragon, with certain… urges… I hope he is able to contain.”

“Greed?” Doug guesses.

“True as far as it goes, but if he sees the Empire as his own, then any success on their part will translate to him.” Celestia grimaces. She hates guessing, of not being as sure as possible, but even with the inroads Equestria has made with the dragons there is still so much more progress to be made. “No, it is more his appetite that I am worried about. As well, he is undergoing a transition, a maturation, that us ponies have very little knowledge about, and dragons are quite reticent about sharing. A similar process to ponies gaining their cutie mark and maturing, I am sure, but it is the unforeseen discrepancies that will come to haunt us.”

“I wish I could tell you more,” Doug says, sharing her dour expression. “But my oldest are just going through that phase. And while they’re a bit different than the average pony, that doesn’t mean they’ll line up with Spike.”

“Mm,” Celestia grunts. She has seen quite a number of ponies mature under her own tutelage, from foals to budding young mares to wizened matrons guiding their own brood. Any number of them could be a template that Spike will mirror, but she has little clue which.

“So,” Doug continues, “your plans got derailed and now you’ve got this extra Princess laying around. What are you going to do with Cadance? Or, for that matter, Twilight?”

“Before Twilight acquired her castle?” No attempt by Celestia could have avoided reminding Doug how that castle came to be, and they hug each other tight at the thought. “I was planning on raising the foals at the old Castle of the Two Sisters. It would be out of the way, hopefully secure against curious eyes, and decrepit enough that random holes being blown out the walls wouldn’t be too much cause for concern, and harm to nearby ponies would be minimized. There are dangers, sure, though noplace is without potential downsides.”

“But now that Twilight has her castle,” Doug muses, finishing her thought. “It’s closer to home. Hopefully it can be modified to your standards, and you won’t need to worry about random parts collapsing.”

“To say nothing of the traps,” Celestia says, nonchalant enough to draw a curious glance from Doug. “But I’ve always thought a Princess needed a castle. Canterlot has sufficed for Cadance and myself, but with Luna’s arrival it has started to feel a bit… crowded. Too many cooks, if you’ll pardon the analogy, and I believe the clear hierarchy between us stifles her growth as a leader.”

“So your solution,” Doug says with a dash of jest, “is to send her to a castle in the middle of nowhere? No, worse than that, because at least nowhere isn’t trying to kill you all the time.”

“We could relocate,” Celestia defends, though it sounds weak even to her. Relocate to where, exactly? Besides anywhere other than smack in the middle of a chaotic nexus. “Though I was also thinking of Chrysalis; she might appreciate something grander than a burrow in the ground. It would require quite the overhaul to serve as anything other than a hive, should she wish to redecorate the castle.”

Celestia’s incoming threat detection pings abruptly; she notices Rarity peeling away from Spoiled Rich, ears swiveling madly.

“If I hear you correctly,” the out-of-breath unicorn gushes out as a certain mad look spreads over her face. She ignores Doug’s loud groan. “Did you say something about… redecorating!? A castle!”

Next Chapter: Ch. 70 - Healthy Mind, Part Two Estimated time remaining: 20 Hours, 51 Minutes