Celestia was in rather a good mood. Good moods were more common for her nowadays of course, and especially on days like today when her niece and nephew-in-law were down from their duties in the north. Was that a real thing, a nephew-in-law? She really should have spent more of her two-thousand-odd years studying the occasional family tree. Anyway, it was nice to see them again, even if they did bring politics with them.
The politics had been concluded for tonight, though, which explained her enduring good mood. Celestia was now left wholly to her own devices. After all, Luna could be quite happily left in charge from seven o'clock in the evening. No one ever mentioned that it used to be nine o'clock. Night it seemed, was getting longer by royal decree.
So Celestia was happy, alone in her room. There was something to be said for peace and quiet, so she couldn't help but be a little disappointed when there was a knock on her door. She got up and padded over, opening the door to reveal...
“Your majesty?”
“Oh, good evening, Shining Armour,” she said, a little surprised. What could he want? She was under the impression everything had been covered in the meeting...
“I would like to speak to you alone, your majesty,” he said, bowing his head stiffly. He looked terribly stern.
“Ah, well then, do come in,” said Celestia, beckoning to him.
“Thank you, your majesty,” he said, stepping inside. "A word, if you may.”
“Oh? Well, which word?” said Celestia, taking a seat. She didn't often feel the need to smile wryly, but there came times...
“Do you remember the last captain of the guard?” said Shining Armour, interrupting her train of thought. He was still standing, and didn't make a move to sit down.
“Oh, yes, I remember him. Captain Carabineer.”
“You remember how he got me where I am?”
“Yes," said Celestia, simply. "Once you were in officer training, he took you under his wing (rather literally) and that once he... left the service, it was his letter of commendation that won you the position.”
She half-wondered where he was going with this. The other half was wondering what the sunset looked like. Probably not the best. Neither sister couldn't get sunsets right on their own. The best only came when they worked together.
“You'll remember too, presumably, the knights of old Equestria. How each had a squire to train to follow in their footsteps,” Shining went on.
Celestia was glad she had a pony as dour and serious as him guarding her back, but... why was he going on about this?
“Yes, I remember," she said. Then, in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere (which had gotten a little dark), "although surely you can't."
“We were taught about it in training,” said Shining Armour, his head tilted up to look Celestia in the eye. “Each squire learned how to be a knight, just like how I learned how to be captain from Carabineer.”
“Very good, Captain Armour,” said Celestia, inclining her head down slightly. “Although I do wonder...”
“And I'm telling you this, because I want you to know that I know what it looks like when somepony is being groomed for command.”
The words hung in the air between them like a bad smell.
Right. Of course. His sister.
“Understand, I'm doing this for her best interests-” she started, but Shining Armour was waiting for that line.
“I don't know if you are,” he said, his tone stronger now. “Whose benefit is this for? Why would you need to train a replacement? Did you get bored, sitting on your throne?”
“Don't you presume,” said Celestia, plainly. She wasn't angry, no no no, not at all, but she didn't like ponies presuming. “You don't know what it's like.”
“I'm already keeping a close eye on Lieutenant Culverin,” said Shining, pointedly. “She looks like she might do well with a little more responsiblity. So don't presume that I don't.”
Celestia sighed.
“Alright. What's so objectionable about it?”
“Ah, so you don't deny-”
“Shut up,” said Celestia, her anger just fizzing slightly. “I asked you. What's wrong with it?”
“You know my sister,” said Shining Armour. “You know what she's like. She's a brilliant scientist and researcher, and I'm not saying she's not capable,” (although you really are, thought Celestia), “but she's not ready for this. Not ready for command.”
“That's the point of teaching her,” said Celestia. “We'll have the time.”
“Have the time? It'd take you years to teach her to govern half as well as you. Unless...” Shining Armour's face fell. “You're not seriously considering making her... like you?”
The words carried a bad tone. Celestia looked at Shining sternly.
“How else could it be?”
“You can't honestly be thinking of making my sister into a... a...” the words stuck in Shining's throat. It was an idea too grand and terrible to express. He gestured vaguely at Celestia.
“Rulers of Equestria have always been Royal Sisters,” Celestia continued, who found it neither grand nor terrible. “They need to be. If you're going to rule over a land, then you have to last as long as it will.”
Shining recoiled. His lip rose in a sneer. “I won't allow it. I won't let you force my sister to take on your responsibilities. She doesn't deserve that.”
Celestia paused, biting her lip.
“You're right,” she said, finally. “No one deserves to do what I do. Even Luna keeps her distance from most of the actual business of ruling. So yes, you are right. But I need her now."
Celestia hunkered forward, looking Shining straight in the eyes. Her expression was one of worry and... was that fear? It wasn't a look you wanted to see in a ruler.
"Things are waking up again, Shining Armour. Old, dark things. Nightmare Moon, Discord, the changelings, King Sombra, they're just the tip of the iceberg. There are things long forgotten in this world, forgotten longer than them. Equestria has enjoyed peace and prosperity for a thousand years, but now things are coming full circle. I need Twilight Sparkle now. She's the most powerful magician this generation, probably the most powerful there's ever been. She and the elements of harmony might just be the best chance we have."
Her expression softened a little, and she stood.
"Besides, you're forgetting something very important," she said. “She could always say no."
Shining's mouth flapped for a response, but Celestia had hers ready.
“You were telling me about history, about the knights and dear old Carabineer,” she said, lifting her head and strolling around Shining Armour. “Well let me tell you some more history, which I think you will find very pertinent. When I banished Luna (disregarding for the moment the rightness or wrongness of that decision), I realised I could not govern alone. How could I? Luna had always handled the paperwork, the figures, the tallies, the totals and sub-totals of Equestria. All those inglorious but vital jobs had always been hers. I needed someone to fill that role, and the best way to get someone would be to get them to learn to.”
“You decided to delegate all the work to someone else, didn't you?” Shining Armour interrupted. “The same unrecognised and banal work that led your sister to refuse to lower the moon.”
Celestia's eyes hardened, and she glared at Shining Armour.
“Whether I was right or wrong, I am still your Princess. Some things you are not at liberty to question."
Shining cast his eyes low, and Celestia continued.
“So I chose my first protégée. She was a unicorn, of course. I don't remember her face and history didn't record what she looked like, but I do remember that she was a demon with numbers. I mean, I wasn't bad at mathematics by any means, but compared to her, I was a drooling infant. Her solutions to any and all problems were the most elegant you could imagine. She could line up those dastardly numbers and have them march in step to any tune.
"She studied at my school for gifted unicorns, which was just about the only school around then. I saw her one day, in front of the whole class, step forward and correct the teacher. That, I thought, was what I needed. Somepony with knowledge, and the confidence to use it.
“To nurture this gift, I took her under my wing and gave her free reign to study, out of the classroom. Libraries were presented to her wholesale, university professors called from every corner of the world to challenge her, ancient tomes brought up from dusty reliquaries at the mere suggestion they might help her. And she learned. I watched her work at numbers, at facts, even as the rest of the world slipped away from her. But I paid no heed to her social life. That wasn't part of the bigger picture.
“Then, I started to let her deal in politics. She would need to learn it before long, so I let her do it. That way, she learned organisation, and learned slowly how to make ponies march in step to her tunes. That was probably where the rot started. For the first time, she had time to get to understand ponies. She spent more time at court than at her studies, more time in company than at the jobs I'd set her to, the very things I needed her for. I knew I'd have to act quickly, before she abandoned it altogether. So one evening, I called her out...
And she'd made sure to remember this evening afterwards. Some memories you could let go like so much waste paper, you had to if you didn't want everything to blur into one, but some things were worth remembering. She'd asked to see the unicorn (She'd forgotten the poor mare's name. Why? What had been so important and worth remembering that she'd forgotten the name?). It had been a cool evening, with the last dregs of sunlight slipping out of the world. Celestia was out on the balcony with her.
“I suppose you'll be wondering why I asked you here?”
“Yes, er, I am,” the unicorn had said, nervously. She was always nervous around Celestia. “I'm supposed to be working tonight.”
“Well, it can wait for now. There's something very important I need to tell you.”
The sun dipped below the horizon, and the moon rose. Celestia forced herself to look up at it, and met the gaze of her sister coming the other way.
“You have learned well,” said Celestia, not looking down. “You're the finest mind in Equestria. Maybe the world.”
The unicorn opened her mouth to protest, but Celestia waved her down.
“You are. Trust me. And now I need you,” she said, sternly. “I need your expertise, your knowledge.”
The unicorn gasped and prostrated herself before Celestia.
“Your highness, I am at your command,” she said. “Anything you need, I'd be more than happy-”
“Stand up,” said Celestia, smiling broadly. “I want you to understand how serious I am. Princess Luna may never be restored to us, and your life is, compared to the life of Equestria, too short.”
The unicorn shuffled uncomfortably. Ponies didn't like to be reminded of that.
“Which is why I will offer you this,” said Celestia, lifting a small box to the unicorn.
She opened it and gasped. Inside, was a tiara of solid silver. It was very plain, unadorned except for some engraving, but for the unicorn, it was the most incredible thing she'd ever seen.
“Royal Sisterhood. It's all yours,” said Celestia, smiling down at her protégée proudly. ”Rule with me. Make Equestria the greatest land there ever was and ever will be.”
The unicorn was silent. She took the tiara out of the box and examined it. It couldn't be moved by magic, so she held it in her hooves. It was a weighty thing to be sure. She stared at it for what felt to Celestia like hours.
“So?” said Celestia, grinning.
“It's... very nice...” said the unicorn. “A-and I'm honoured that you'd consider me worthy of it.”
The Princess beamed, and she was about to tell the unicorn all about how she deserved it, the wonderous times they had to look forward to, when a single word stopped her.
"...but..."
Celestia's heart sank. She knew what would come next, even before she heard it.
“...I can't accept it. It's not for me.”
The Princess, Sol Invicta, the Midday Goddess, was lost for words.
"You what?" said Celestia, incredulous.
"I couldn't live forever, not like that," said the unicorn, shaking her head slowly.
“You'd choose mortality?”
“Yes,” she said, a little more confidently. She allowed herself a little nervous laugh. “What would I do with all that time?”
“Rule!” Celestia shouted, a little unhinged. The unicorn flinched. “Rule alongside me! Rule for a thousand years and build the greatest nation on earth!"
Please, Celestia thought. Don't make me do it alone.
The unicorn looked down at her hooves, tracing circles on the flagstones.
“But... what if I don't want to rule?” she said, slowly. “I... I know it's selfish, but I wouldn't want to live like that. An eternity of servitude. I've done my best to serve you, but... I always wanted to do it. And if I did it forever, I'd... well, that doesn't seem like a life worth living.”
Celestia stared at her, open mouthed. The unicorn put the tiara back into the box and levitated it back to her.
“I'm sorry, but I can't.”
“And then she left,” said Celestia. “Turned her back on me and left the castle. I had her found of course, but by then she was far away, living a different life. Sometimes, it's best to admit defeat, and stay defeated.”
Shining Armour hadn't moved. He was standing ramrod stiff, his expression frozen.
“So you see,” she went on, “you don't need to worry about your sister. She's her own pony, after all."
Shining looked like he might try and say something for a moment, but he thought better of it. He stepped back towards the door.
“She won't accept it,” he said, trying to sound certain. “She wouldn't.”
Celestia shrugged, non-committally. “It's her choice.”
Shining left, shutting the door behind himself. Celestia sighed and slumped against it. So much for her good mood. Some things she didn't need reminding of. She needed something to calm her down after that.
She got up slowly, and walked over to her dresser. She opened a drawer and levitated out a small box. Inside, was a tiara of engraved gold. At the pinnacle of it, was a six pointed star, cut from a single amethyst. Celestia admired it for a moment, as she sometimes allowed herself to do.
“This time, perhaps,” she said to herself. She allowed herself a smile. "This time."