Celestia lay in her bed, soaked in sweat. She couldn’t sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the cadaver’s flayed, bloodless corpse laid out in front of her. She’d had to play it cool in front of Luna, but… Ugh. It made her think of things she’d seen in the war. Things she could never unsee. Things that made her feel like tiny insects were crawling all over her hide. She scrubbed at her coat with her hooves, but it didn’t help. She was going to be like that thing one day. Maybe torn apart my some monster. Maybe coughing herself to death as some gross old crone. Who knew?
The blankets wouldn’t stay on her. Everywhere she lay, there was a lump in her mattress. She stuffed her pillow over her face and shouted into it. Then she held it there. She’d read trashy novels about jealous lovers smothering their unfaithful special somepony under a pillow. But she was getting plenty of air under here, to be honest. She thought if she held it there long enough, she might pass out, and then at least she’d be asleep.
She needed to sleep! She had to be up at sunrise! She had to be up at sunrise. For the rest. Of. Her. Life! It was so unfair! Oh, she wished she were dead!
No. Wait. No she didn’t. Death was what was keeping her awake!
Still. If she did manage to smother herself in her sleep, at least she wouldn’t have to worry about death any more.
Did that make any sense? She was too tired to tell.
She slid out of bed, sweaty and disheveled, and levitated on a nightgown. She still had trouble getting her wings in the wing holes. A glance in her vanity mirror showed that she was a mess; she dragged a brush through her long pink mane until it looked sort of presentable. So. A little trip down to the kitchen for some milk and cake would settle her down.
The palace was so peaceful at night. Her hooves rang on the marble flawless marble floor. Moonlight sparkled trough the newly completed stained glass windows depicting her and Luna’s recent victory over Discord.
The windows were beautiful. The actual battle hadn’t been so pretty.
She was jealous of her sister, sometimes. Sure, most crimes were committed at night. And if there was a sneak attack, she supposed it would probably happen at night. But still, night time seemed so easy. Her shift was always packed sunrise to sunset. Everypony wanted to talk to her! She enjoyed the work, and she certainly enjoyed the attention. But some days it was all just too much.
Anyway. It was a long walk to the kitchens. The Everfree Palace (which ponies were already calling ‘the Palace of the Two Sisters’, as if it hadn’t been their family’s winter retreat for generations) was excessively large. She could probably cut a small but noticeable chunk out of the budget by renting some of this space out. Or maybe move a lot of government offices up from the city? That might be more practical.
She was crossing a colonnaded atrium, thinking about how many tax officers’ desks they could fit into it, when something caught her eye. Or, rather, somepony. A young unicorn janitor — a year or two older than her at most — teal blue, with ultramarine eyes. Lanky and awkward, but strong, and so handsome. His withers filled out his royal servant uniform very well, and his butt? You could melt butter on those cheeks. Unf. Well. She had experience with colts. She knew how she could distract herself from thoughts of death. And nopony would ever need to know.
He hadn’t seen her. Celestia ducked into the shadows of a pillar and made some changes. Wings invisible. Mane dark brown, fur tan, eyes blue. She couldn’t do anything about the cutie mark with magic, but hopefully he wouldn’t make the connection. Other ponies had sun cutie marks, right? Just a coincidence. She ducked out of the nightgown and transmuted it into a pile of dirty linens. Disguise complete. She hurried across the atrium, and blundered right into him, dropping bedsheets everywhere. He yelped in surprise, broom clattering to the floor.
“Oh my gosh!” said Celestia. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there!”
“What?” said the stallion. “How? But… this room is as big as a hoofball field. How did you not see me?”
Celestia giggled, and gave him her best princess-next-door smile. “I’m so dreadfully clumsy!”
He blinked. The smile was working. “It’s… it’s okay,” he said, grinning and blushing. He held out a hoof to help her up. “I’m Clean Sweep. What’s your name?”
“Oh, hi,” she said, accepting the gesture. She glanced at the broom-and-dustpan cutie mark on his flank. That must’ve been a disappointing one to get. “I’m… um… I… My name is…”
His eyes narrowed in confusion. “Your name is…?”
“Give me a second. I’m very forgetful, too!” She giggled and smiled harder. Keep working, smile!
“You don’t… remember… your… name?” A vein under his eye twitched.
“It’s… Sunny Smiles! Yeah!” There. That worked the cutie mark into it, too. Genius!
Clean Sweep grinned. “Oh! I can see why. You have a really beautiful smile.” Good. He was fooled.
“I’m new here,” she said, scooping up the linens with her magic. He hurried to help her. Fooled and hooked. “Could you show me where the laundry rooms are?”
“Sure,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.
And the rest was history. Naughty, hot, sweaty history. They’d done the deed once with hooves and kisses in a shadowy corner on the way down. Twice more in a pile of clean bedsheets in the laundry room. Oh, the cleaning staff was going to be livid when they saw the stains! He’d been surprised at how forward she was, but he’d responded vigorously. He was a champion, a freight train of passion. And he always wanted to look in her eyes when he was inside of her. Which was hard to pull off. But very sweet!
He did seem a little confused when his hooves brushed an invisible wing, but she had better places for those hooves to be, and was able to keep him distracted. And he had remarked on the cutie mark, but she had pretended to be gushingly flattered by the comparison. Yep. Just a weird coincidence.
When it was all over and they’d kissed goodbye, she practically floated to the kitchen. Actually she’d teleported there the second she was out of his sight, grabbed some treats, and was back in her bedroom before the night guard could catch a sexily disheveled brown unicorn mare raiding the pantry. She fell asleep with the cake half-eaten on her bedside table.
———
Celestia felt gross when she crawled out of bed in the morning. Not because of the sex — that had been awesome. Because of the cake. She shouldn’t have eaten that, it was going to go straight to her butt. That stallion. What was his name. Clean Sweep. He’d really liked her butt. He’d told her he liked how round and jiggly it was, and he wasn’t the first to tell her that. There were some compliments stallions should just keep to themselves. She turned around and craned her neck to have a look at herself in the mirror. She had to admit, it was an admirably bubbly derrière. But she was young. As she got older, it would sag. She would have to wear long dresses to cover its cottage-cheesy shame. And then, one day, she would die.
She was going to die. Oh mother of whores, why had she thought that?
She shoved the sun up into the firmament, washed up, tossed on her crown and armor, and clomped off to her morning intelligence briefing under a cloud of gloom. Something something democratic reform movement. Something something new Crystal Emperor. Whatever. She was going to die, and when she did her butt would be too big to fit in her coffin. Next was a policy meeting on her proposal for a free medical care system for elderly ponies. The policy was her baby. She was proud of it. She thought it could help a lot of ponies. But. It also made her think about old age. And old age made her think of death. Also Luna hated the proposal. At first it was about how much it would cost, but as Celestia found ways around that it became less a matter of principal, and more a matter of spiteing her older sister. Celestia made a note to schedule the next meeting for mid-afternoon, when Luna would be asleep.
Anyway, next she had to review the Third Light Legion. Basically she was watching a parade, so usually this sort of thing was a nice break from the heavy lifting of government work. But today, she did not want her brain to be idle. She kept thinking of that cadaver. She recognized some of the soldiers — they’d been the ground component of her and Luna’s escort in the final battle with Discord. But she didn’t recognize most of them, because more than half the unit had died in the battle.
After the parade, she had lunch with the legion’s leader Legate Phalanx, and members of their respective staffs.
Legate Phalanx was a very handsome older earth pony stallion. He was gray-blue, with white at his temples and on his muzzle. Buzz-cute blonde mane. Angular features. Strong jaw. Fierce magenta eyes. And a rock hard body. You could cut diamond with his thigh muscles. Apparently older ponies could be very attractive, after all.
Oh no. She was not thinking what she was thinking. Was she?
“So, Legate Phalanx,” she said, between sips of tea, “we’ve fought together, but I know so little about you. For instance… are you married?” Yes, she was thinking exactly that.
“Widower,” he grunted. “Discord.”
“Oh, I didn’t know,” she said, putting a hoof on his foreleg. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“No. We all… I mean, many ponies lost loved ones in the war,” he said, wisely avoiding the subject of Celestia’s own parents. “We must be strong, and carry on without them.”
“So is there anypony special right now?” She batted her eyelashes at him. She smiled. Oh, she was really going for this. Celestia, you naughty filly.
“Nope.”
“I think,” said Celestia, leaning towards him conspiratorially, “that it is very important for civil authority and the military to be on good terms, don’t you?”
Phalanx looked offended. “Your highness, you will find the loyalty of the military to be unimpeachable.”
“Oh, that’s not what I mean, silly. I just mean that are there many… advantages to be gained from intercourse between the two.”
Phalanx raised an eyebrow. “Intercourse.”
Celestia giggled. “Oh! I’m sorry. That doesn’t sound the way I meant it too.” That was a lie. It sounded exactly the way she meant it to.
Phalanx gave her a severe look. “Your Highness, may I speak to you in private?”
“I was hoping you’d ask that,” said Celestia.
The adjourned to a nearby study, where Phalanx closed the door and rounded on his princess. “Your Highness. What exactly do you think you’re proposing? I don’t want any part in back-room tomfoolery.”
Celestia laughed — she found his show of righteous indignation arousing. “Oh that’s too bad. Because back-room tomfoolery was exactly what I was hoping for.”
He stiffened. “What is you want from me, then?”
So she told him. She told him in very explicit terms what she would like to do to him, and what she would like him to do to her. His eyes grew wide. He blushed. He seemed… relieved?
“Oh. Is that… I mean. Is that all. I’m… um. I’d love to.”
It was Celestia’s turn to blush. “I just wanted to play. I’m not ready for a special somepony. I don’t want to be exclusive. Or… you know… if you’re looking for another wife…”
“Your Highness, princesses do not marry soldiers.”
“I will marry who I please. But… yeah, for now we can go with that. So…” She lowered her eyelids at him.
“Tonight. We need to be tasteful. One of the spare bedrooms, maybe?”
“Well, the taxpayers are hoofing for dozens of the things. We might as well get some use out of them. I’ll send for you?”
He nodded sharply. “Good. Looking forward to it.”
“Before you go. A kiss?”
His big tongue was aggressive and rough and demanding, and he got drool on her chin. It was wonderful. Then he stopped. He pointed out that he had duties, and so did she. She walked behind him as they left the study, watching his rump cheeks move and his stallion parts bounce under his docked tail. It was going to be agony waiting until tonight to see him again. But. If she was horny, she wasn’t going to be thinking about dying, now was she?
———
That night she met him at the door, dressed in her neglige. She’d had her servants bring wine, and scented candles, and heavy duty lubricants. She’d made him keep his uniform on for the first go.
Phalanx was a demanding, dominating lover. Which was was what Celestia had been hoping for. It took extra attention to get his old body going, but one he was ready, he was unstoppable. And he knew things about a mare’s body that she herself had never guessed from living in one for nineteen years. He did things for her that she’d never dared ask a stallion for before without hesitation, and then he went on to give her pleasure in some unexpected ways and some very surprising places. Ample avenues for further exploration presented themselves.
When they were done, they bathed together. She sat by his side, neck deep in steaming, bubbly water, her head on his chest. “See what I was saying, about intercourse between civil authority and the military?”
Phalanx rumbled with laughter. “When you first asked me about that, I thought you wanted my help in planning a coup.”
Celestia looked confused. “A coup? Against whom? I’m already princess.”
Phalanx frowned. “Against your sister.”
Celestia gasped. “No! I’d never! I love my sister. And I’d never want to! Running a country half the time is nearly impossible as it is! I could never run the whole thing!” She narrowed her eyes. “Why would you even think I’d want to do that?”
Phalanx looked down into her eyes. “She resents you. She envies your popularity. There are rumors.”
“Lies, you mean.” They had to be lies.
“Whatever you want to believe. You need to be careful. As a ruler, everything you do, even the smallest thing, has consequences.”
Celestia was sick of talking about work. “So if I were to do this,” she said, moving her hoof under the water, “you’re saying there could be far-reaching implications.”
Phalanx laughed. “Yes. One rather large one, in particular. Get that big, beautiful young ass of yours over here, and I’ll show you the trouble you’ve stirred up.”
She poked him in the chest. “Never call it big again!”
Phalanx snorted. “Very well. I wil lie for you, my princess.”
———
Frustration.
After a few nights of carnal bliss, that ‘something something new Crystal Emperor’ from her intelligence briefing had escalated, and she’d had to send her Phalanx to escort diplomats to the border. Yes, she thought of him as her Phalanx even though they had been quite clear about not being exclusive. Yes, she knew that was inconsistent. She didn’t care.
Clean Sweep, meanwhile, was nowhere to be found. She checked that atrium every night since Phalanx had left, and he hadn’t been there. Was he working somewhere else? Was he sick? Had he been fired? She hoped she hadn’t gotten him in trouble! She knew his name and his job, but going down to the city to look through staff records would be a major production, and raise questions as to why this merited royal attention. She wasn’t ready to admit she’d been randomly helping herself to the hired help. That would be embarrassing.
But she’d do it, if he didn’t turn up soon. She missed him! She wasn’t in love with him (as far as she could tell), but she liked him. He was sweet. Should she just pick another janitor? Maybe a cook? She was in the kitchens at night often enough. But that would be kind of cold. They were ponies, not toys! They weren’t interchangeable!
In the meantime, she spent her days and night brooding about death. She wasn’t focusing on her work. She wasn’t getting enough sleep. And now she was brooding about Phalanx or Clean Sweep dying, too. Either could already be dead and it might be days before she knew! The pain of losing somepony close to her was nothing new, but it wasn’t the kind of experience you got used to. It stayed fresh.
Day after day, she moped on her throne, grunted and nodded through meetings, grimaced and waved limply at the military parades. Her health plan was in danger — moving the meetings to the afternoon hadn’t helped; Luna had just sent some old nobelpony who was every bit as callous and calculating as her, and ten times as experienced at being a procedurally correct pain in the butt.
Then one morning during her intelligence briefing, she heard that there was a holy pony of the Old Ways in the city, spreading dangerous superstitions. So of course, she invited him to dinner. Religion might be weird, scary, and out of fashion, but it was supposed to be able to grant you eternal life, wasn’t it? It was a long shot, but sex wasn’t working, so she’d try anything at this point.
Peaceful Pumpkin was adorable. He was a slight yellow pegasus with a pumpkin vine cutie mark. His floppy pink bangs fell over his eyes. His wings were really big for a pony his size. He also looked no older than Celestia herself, which surprised her. Though upon reflection, she wondered why it would — if there could be a nineteen-year-old princess, why couldn’t there be a nineteen-year-old saint? Even at dinner with royalty, he went naked, except for a circled cross made of wood on a bronze chain around his neck.
Halfway into the salad course, Luna elected to make a comment. “It is a shame,” she said, “That some ponies do not respect the crown enough to wear clothes at dinner.”
“Luna!” said Celestia, raising her wings slightly to interpose herself between her sister and her guest. “Be polite. It’s part of his faith.”
Luna snorted with contempt. “Religion,” she said, “Is no excuse for being rude.”
“Um… if you don’t mind. I’m sorry that you see me as rude. But in the Old Ways we believe that clothing blocks our connection with Equus. It makes it harder to receive her love. But if you don’t believe that, it’s okay.”
Celestia folded her hooves over her heart and cooed. He was so precious!
Luna sneered. “Equus doesn’t love us. it’a a massive rocky plane suspended in the midst of the firmament. It does not have feelings.”
“Have you ever tried to open yourself to her in prayer?” said Pumpkin.
“Praying to rocks like a savage is beneath the dignity of a princess,” said Luna.
Pumpkin ducked his head so his bangs went over his eyes and mumbled, “I feel sad for you.”
Celestia decided to change the subject. “Peaceful Pumpkin, what do the Old Ways teach us about death?”
Luna rolled her eyes. “Celestia, why are you still brooding about that? I thought Star Swirl gave you excellent advice.”
Celestia ignored the little brown-noser and smiled expectantly at Pumpkin.
“Well, we believe that after death, the soul goes to the realm of the dead, to rest until our loving Mother needs it for a new creature. The compassionate are born again quickly, but the wicked may rest for quite some time.”
“And how do you know this?” said Luna.
“Um, it’s an article of faith? So I don’ t know it for sure, but that’s what all the great oneiromancers of the past have said,” said Pumpkin. “But it’s been a long time since a pony with the power to travel in dreams was born.”
“But what do dreams have to do with death?” asked Celestia.
Pumpkin blew his mane out of his eyes. “It’s a lesser version of the same thing. When we sleep, our bodies stop moving, our souls leave, and we don’t remember what happens. Death is just like that, only for years and years, instead of for a few hours.”
“Well,” said Luna, a smug smile on her face. “We’ll see about that.” Celestia wondered what she meant by that.
———
After dinner, Celestia invited Pumpkin to her study to talk more. She didn’t have ulterior motives, though she did have an overpowering urge to cuddle the meek little thing to tiny pieces. She really did want to talk to him more, though. He seemed like he might have some answers, and she needed answers.
Pumpkin interested himself in her books, though he kept glancing over his shoulder at her, so she wasn’t sure if he was actually looking at them, or just avoiding conversation.
“You’re not what I expected,” she said.
He jumped a little, and glanced at the exit. “Was I okay, though?”
“Oh, yes, you’re very…” Cute? Sweet? Cuddle-worthy? “You seem wise.”
“Thank you. I try.” He turned from he bookshelf, and sat down on a cushion a few feet from where she lay. “You seem wise, too.”
“What? Oh, no, I’m not wise. I’m the exact opposite of wise.”
“There’s a wisdom in foolishness, too. Wait, that sounds like I called you a fool. I’m sorry.”
Celestia laughed. “Don’t worry, I understand.” She paused. “Wait, no, I totally don’t.”
“Heroes,” said Pumpkin, “accomplish great things, and bring boons back to help their people. But heroes’ journeys aren’t fun. Only a fool would set out on one.”
“I see,” said Celestia. “And am I a hero?”
“Yes. You and your sister are. To all of us.”
Oh. Right. Discord. They’d done that. It still didn’t seem real. A lot of ponies had died in that battle. They should be the heroes, not her. “Can I confess something to you? Is that a thing that you do?”
“If you like.”
“I’ve been troubled by thoughts about death lately. I’ve realized I’m going to die one day, no matter what I do, and it terrifies me.”
“Oh, gosh, me too!” said Pumpkin, eyes wide.
Celestia blinked.“Really? But you believe our souls go on.”
“Yes, but it will still be a big change, won’t it? And it’s likely to hurt, when it happens. That’s the worst part for me, really.”
“So what do you do about it? It’s consuming every moment of my life. I can’t focus. I can’t sleep,” said Celestia.
“Well, there are two things that comfort me. One, is that I believe Equus loves us, and wants the best for us. And I trust her. She’s not all-powerful, but she does everything she can.”
“And the other thing?” asked Celestia.
“The other thing is that we only live in the present. Worrying about the future only causes pain. We know that we’re going to die. We can’t control when or how. So why dwell on it? When you feel troubled, focus on what you’re doing. What’s around you.”
“And that helps?”
“For me it does. What have you tried?”
Celestia blushed. “Sex, mostly.”
Pumpkin nodded. “Oh. That makes sense.”
Celestia raised an eyebrow. “You’re not shocked? Embarrassed?”
Pumpkin looked confused. “Why would I be? Sex is natural. Most ponies enjoy it. It creates new life. As long as everypony involved is willing, and you’re not violating any vows, why be concerned?”
“It’s dirty, though?”
Pumpkin grimaced. “It does get alarmingly sticky, doesn’t it? But I can show you meditation techniques that will focus your mind on it and enhance its healing powers. It won’t solve all your problems, but it might help you.”
Celestia’s blush brightened. “Are you suggesting that we…”
Pumpkin nodded. “Yes. I think we should mate. I think it would help you.”
“It’s just… usually I’m the one that…”
“Initiates? That’s fine. You can be in charge. Do you want to, though?”
Celestia locked the study door with her magic. Pumpkin grinned, and rolled over on his back. He was… he was very large, for a pony his size. “Please tell me what to do, Mistress. I’m ready!”
Eight hours later, the sun shot up into the air, radiating golden and purple light. Everypony complimented her on the sunrise, and she blushed every time.