//------------------------------// // Held Accountable // Story: Twice as Bright // by Cloudy Skies //------------------------------// “I suppose we can lessen or perhaps strike the toll restriction on tea, then,” the equine agreed. The Saddle-Arabian nodded at his mate, who returned the gesture with the creak and rustle of ornate bridles and harnesses. Celestia smiled at the two emissaries, signing the forms with a flourish before levitating them over. Fervor, the male of the pair, leaned over to seize the quill in his mouth, but Celestia knew neither of them would sign it just yet. As friendly as their kind was, it was borderline insulting to expect them to accept the treaty without reading it in full first. When the discussion petered out, it became twice as obvious that the room was oppressively hot. There was not a sound to be heard outside of the soft murmurs between the two diplomats. It was only a temporary reprieve. The very second this meeting concluded, she was needed in the Sun’s Dance complex to give some suggestions on the layout. Granted, it wasn’t strictly necessary if the foreman’s words on the matter were anything to go by, but that was no detriment. The current pause was pleasant only until she realized she didn’t quite know what to do with it. Where did the line between a pause and a wait go? And where was that noise coming from? Celestia perked an ear and let her eyes roam, trying to pinpoint the source. Sound was tricky in the palace, especially in a chamber as large as this one. The sky was clear outside the balcony that dominated one wall, and the neighbouring rooms were reception rooms like this one. She knew for a fact they all stood empty at the moment, but still she could hear a growing noise. Hoofbeats? Hoofbeats were part of it, yes, but there was an odd rhythmic noise on top. Celestia glanced around once more. If the guardpony by the door or the Saddle-Arabian diplomats had heard anything, they gave no indication. At least not until the doors burst open with a blast of confetti. The guard toppled over on the side with a clang, and the two dignitaries tripped over themselves and each other, going down in a heap. Celestia was the only one not to budge when a pink pony bounced inside the room, not so much holding as wielding a pair of maracas in her mouth with deadly musical intent. On her back was the biggest pair of saddlebags Celestia had ever seen, game boards and pieces overflowing. The maracas promptly clattered to the floor when Pinkie Pie opened her mouth. “Hi Princess! You wanna play a game? I got Tic-tac-toe and Hungry Hungry Ponies!” What the room had suffered in noise in the preceding three seconds, it made up for with the most silent silence Equestria had ever not heard. The guard stared for a moment before he scrabbled to stand, the foreign dignitaries got up and looked to Celestia, presumably for some sort of explanation—and the princess herself raised a single eyebrow at the sweaty and flagging pony finally trotting into view past the door. Shining Armor glared at Pinkie Pie before sketching a quick bow. “Princess, I’m sorry,” he said, gasping for breath. “I—I took her to the waiting room. She asked to see you, but the second I looked away, she said—” “I said I bet I know where the princess is, because where would I be if I was a princess? I’d be bouncing in the biggest bed ever! Oh, and then I took a wrong turn and ended up here. Hi!” Pinkie smiled brightly and nodded at herself, lifting her tail out of the way when Shining Armor tried to bite down on it, and a second later, hopping sideways to dodge a grab. “If you’ll just—” he groaned, making another grab that the pink mare simply ducked under, never once breaking eye contact with Celestia. “Stand still. The princess is in a meeting!” “And what brings you here this morning, Pinkie Pie?” Celestia pursed her lips and tilted her head, mostly to keep from smiling. The diplomats seemed confused still, which was better than insulted or even angry. Besides, certain allowances had to be made for ponies who made a habit of saving Equestria. That she herself was curious might have factored into it, too. Pinkie giggled, tapping Shining Armor on the horn when it lit up, scattering his concentration and eliciting a cry of protest which was entirely drowned out by the pink pony’s voice. “Oh, I know the answer to this one! I know why I’m here!” “Thank you, Shining Armor. I’m sure I can handle this invasion by myself,” Celestia said. Better to forestall any further altercations. She had no desire to have Pinkie carted off. Or rather more likely, to see Shining Armor’s pride hurt any further. “If you say so.” Shining Armor puffed out his cheeks and frowned at Pinkie Pie after a nod at the princess. “I hope you’re right.” Pinkie waved at the departing stallion before stepping inside the chamber, smiling at the two diplomats as if she’d only just now noticed them. “Hi! I’m Pinkie Pie. What’re your names?” “I am Fervor, of Medineigh, Saddle Arabia,” the stallion said whilst glancing over at his equally nonplussed mate. “Undaunted, also of Medineigh. Pleased. Pleased, and very, very confused. Princess?” Celestia wasn’t entirely sure she managed to keep her face straight any more. “Pinkie Pie? Your reason for being here?” “Right! See, Applejack once told me something very clever. Or, well, she says lots of clever things, ponies just don’t always listen, but I do! And I listened when she told me this story about mountains without legs. See, mountains are really neat, but they can’t move, so if you want to have a chat with a mountain, you have to go there yourself. Like a picnic!” “It may not be quite how I would tell the story, but I do know it, yes,” Celestia said, but Pinkie merely shrugged. “It’s okay, I don’t think I remember all of it. It just popped into my head when I was having a bath, and I thought to myself, ‘Pinkie Pie, I’m sure this means something important!’ I don’t think it means that your flanks are big like a mountain or something. I think it means that if you are super busy all the time, I need to bring the fun to you!” Celestia poked her cheek with her tongue. Fervor and Undaunted both looked severely discomfited, and it seemed even the guard by the door—now finally upright—called upon years of training to keep from facehoofing in sympathy. Either Pinkie Pie didn’t notice, or she didn’t care. For her own part, Celestia had to admit a few thousand years of experience helped, but she couldn’t quite say she had been in this exact situation before. Perhaps exactly because of that, it was a little sad to have to end it. Celestia lowered her head and shook it, flashing Pinkie Pie a smile. “Pinkie Pie, I’m very sorry, but as you can see, we are in the middle of some very important negotiations. If you go back to the forechambers, I will meet you there once we are done here.” “Oh. Sorry,” Pinkie said, looking over at the two diplomats and laying her ears flat. She was the very image of regret for all of half a second. “Wait! They can join too! I brought a Monopoly board!” Fervor tapped his hoof on the ground and cleared his throat, while Undaunted’s lips pulled up in the tiniest of smiles. Celestia chuckled. “I don’t think they’re here for board games.” Pinkie Pie pursed her lips and cast a quick glance over her own shoulder, inspecting the saddlebags once more. “Even if they get to be the cart?” “Even if they get to be cart. I’ll be with you soon, Pinkie Pie.” Celestia nodded towards the door. She’d have to push back some of the tasks she’d planned for the morning, of course, but wouldn’t it be far more responsible to sate her curiosity rather than wonder about it all day? Celestia nodded, gracing herself with a private little smile. Belatedly, Celestia realized that telling Pinkie Pie to wait in the forechambers might have been a bad idea. On some days, it felt like the palace consisted entirely of forechambers. Sure enough, there was the occasional antechamber and waiting room to spruce things up, but it was easy to imagine a pony could get lost without an escort, and she had sent Shining Armor away. On the other hoof, the trail of confetti made it rather simple to find her. As she drew near to the Day Court’s main room, Pinkie’s voice rang loud and clear through the halls. “It’s your turn!” “Miss, I’m on duty.” The second voice had been in the gruff tone of one of her guard. Celestia upped her pace a little, rounding the corner to the court’s waiting room a moment later to find Pinkie Pie sat on her rump in front of the guards flanking the chamber’s grand doors. Pinkie held a half-dozen playing cards in her hooves, and a matching set of six lay face-down in front of one of the hapless guards. “That’s okay, I’ll play for you!” Pinkie said. “Hm. And I think... you’re bluffing!” “Miss, please.” The guard sighed and shifted where he stood. Celestia paused in the middle of the small chamber, waiting while Pinkie leaned over to lift one of the cards on the ground. The pink pony drew back, clearly not pleased with what her little peek had revealed. “Shoot! You weren’t bluffing? I never saw that one coming! You got a mean poker face, mister! Oh well, you win.” Pinkie Pie collected the cards and began shuffling, looking over to the other earth pony guard. “Do you wanna play a round? I think this guy’s way above my level.” Said guard took a sudden yet fierce interest in a particular section of floor, his chest heaving with a silent sigh. Celestia levitated up Pinkie Pie’s discarded saddlebags and opened the door to the audience chamber with another glimmer of magic. “Hello again, Pinkie Pie. Why don’t we head on inside?” “Oh, hi, okie-dokie and goodbye!” Pinkie said, bouncing up on all fours, waving her farewells to her playmates and taking up position behind the princess, but once she’d done so, she seemed to deflate a little. Celestia cast another glance over her shoulder as she lead the pink mare past the doors and shut them in their wake, and it was most certainly not just her eyes playing tricks on her. Pinkie Pie definitively seemed a little more sedate this time around. It wouldn’t be the audience chamber, of course. Most ponies were a little humbled by the Day Court’s audience chamber the first time around; the sheer amount of marble and gold was a little much, even to Celestia’s tastes. Gilded columns and arches flanked a red carpet leading up to a small sitting area with a chair the lesser cousin to the throne room’s own two thrones. Somehow, Celestia doubted Pinkie Pie was the type of pony to be intimidated, especially considering she’d been here before. Celestia said nothing until they reached the pillows and sofas circling the large ornate table. Only when the saddlebags were neatly placed on the table and she herself had found a mound of pillows for the royal behind—the throne was hardly comfortable—did she raise her voice. “I’m sorry if I came across as terse, but I hope you understand that we were rather busy with some paperwork in there.” “Oh, that’s okay,” Pinkie said, smiling up at her while hopping onto one of the sofas. “I’m sorry, too. It’s very rude to interrupt. I just forget that sometimes, and twice as sometimes-y when I’m really excited about something.” Celestia nodded. “It’s quite alright, think no more of it. There’s nothing wrong with being excited.” “I just thought you’d be happy!” Celestia raised a brow, and barely had time to do even that before Pinkie went on. “Come on, everypony loves Monopoly! Well, except maybe Fluttershy, but that’s just because she gets really sad when she lands on one of my hotels and can’t pay.” When this, too, failed to garner response, Pinkie Pie tilted her head to match. “Well duh! You said you’d like to come visit us in Ponyville some day, but Twilight and the others said you probably wouldn’t, but I thought it sounded like you really meant it, because you only say really cool stuff like ‘you won’t get away with this!’ and everything, and if you couldn’t come play with us, I thought I’d bring the fun to you!” Celestia cast a glance out one of the chamber’s tall windows, bringing a hoof up to rub at her itching temple. “Well,” she said, breathing out through her nose as she tried to think. Rare were the moments when she struggled to find words. Rarer still were the moments where she was pinned to the precise words she’d used where others would accept them as polite nothings. Or polite somethings. “Of course I would like to, but I am a very busy pony.” Pinkie huffed. “That’s what Twilight said! But Princess Luna is super awesome, so she can talk to all the griffins and dragons and stage big parties too, can’t she?” “Of course she can, and she does, but Equestria doesn't rest just because I want to go to Ponyville for another royal tea visit. I’m sorry, Pinkie Pie.” Celestia rose to stand and offered a sympathetic smile. “It doesn’t have to be tea, silly. You should come visit me and Twilight and Applejack and all the others! We can do something fun instead!” Pinkie said, immediately clapping a hoof to her muzzle. “Oh no. Don’t tell Rarity I said tea isn’t fun. Tea is neat too, promise!” Fun. The word patiently waited for Celestia to approach it. Clearly, Pinkie Pie meant her own particular brand of “fun”, and for a second, Celestia pictured herself riding a colorful carousel holding a cluster of balloons, and it was all she could do not to laugh. Still, it was of course true that the world wasn’t made of tea and diplomacy. There was plenty more to do. More she already did. She just couldn’t think of anything at the moment. Celestia bit her cheek. In the silence that followed, Pinkie Pie got up and tested all the other sofas and pillows around the table, eventually coming to rest on top of the throne. Nothing came to her. The last time something decidedly ‘new’ had happened, it had been a carefully orchestrated fracas at the gala two years ago, but what had she herself truly done? The silly carousel was oddly pervasive, but beyond that, she drew a complete blank as far as ideas went. Besides, there was always something purposeful to do in the palace. Something useful. Something—well, frankly, something safe. Yet the thought of letting her mane out was tantalizing. Persistent. If she couldn’t quite defend doing something new for herself, then she could do it as a favor to her friends. That worked. Her mind didn’t rebel against the logic. Celestia puffed out her cheeks, making for the third in a series of frightfully un-royal gestures she usually reserved for when it was just her sister and herself in the room. The Elements. These six mares had done so much for her and for Equestria. If she could make even one of them feel a little better by doing something unrestrained, then she could defend taking the time to do so. “If nothing else, I can try to schedule a visit to Ponyville this month. I wouldn’t want for your trip here to be wasted. I can’t promise much more than that, but I’ll take it out of my own time and visit during the afternoon.” Pinkie Pie lit up with a grin that put the sun to shame. That alone was certainly worth delaying some tax revisions. “That’s super-duper fantastic!” “It is my pleasure. Now, unless there was something else?” Pinkie Pie’s eyes sought the ceiling, her tongue stuck out in what Celestia assumed was thought. “Balloons? I ran out of balloons, so I need balloons to get home. I’m sure I can drift back home if I get a few dozen! Oh, but they have to be yellow and green and orange and all the other colors too. They’re not as floaty if they’re all the same color.” Celestia laughed. “I’ll arrange for a chariot.” Celestia seized the scroll in her aura the second it appeared. It was a reflex practiced by necessity. Specifically due to the uncanny frequency with which Twilight’s letters tended to appear when she was taking her bath. Presently and mercifully, she was having her evening tea with her sister in the dormant Night Court. The granite and silver decor was considerably easier on the eyes than her own court. “It’s not Tuesday, is it?” Luna said. “Not last I checked,” Celestia said, raising her cup for another sip. She deposited the scroll on the table, her eyes lingering on it for just long enough to bring a smile to her face. It was always a delight to hear from her prized student. “Then it raises the question of why you’re not opening it, considering as how she usually only sends you messages outside of the weekly report if it’s urgent.” Celestia raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Have you always been this nosey? I know what the letter will say already.” “Ah yes. My sister, the chess master.” Luna leaned back and rolled her neck. “Let me guess. This is the end-game of a plan you laid six hundred years ago, all culminating in the defeat of... let me think. Baathul the Twice Bearded has returned from his three thousand year slumber, except he’s already vanquished by a chain of events starting with you sending Twilight some lemon tea?” Celestia covered her mouth as she laughed. “No, not quite. This is the aftermath of a surprise visit this morning.” “I caught wind of some altercation. Pinkie Pie, was it? I hear she sought you out on her own.” At Celestia’s nod, Luna rolled her eyes before settling them on the scroll still hovering in front of the Sun Princess, a smile tugging on her lips. “I expect this would be the panicked letter from Twilight apologizing and such.” Unrolling the scroll and giving it a cursory glance was enough to confirm both of their predictions. Celestia rolled it up again for later reading. “Yes, it is, and yes, Pinkie Pie did. She decided to take it upon herself to entertain me. Apparently, I need to get out more, and tea won’t suffice.” It didn’t quite elicit the laughter Celestia had hoped for. She peered over the rim of her teacup and found Luna looking straight back at her with a subtle, contemplative frown, the cause of which Celestia couldn’t quite determine. “Am I missing something?” Luna shook her head. “No. Or, well, yes and no. She has a point, does she not? It is what I’ve been trying to tell you for months now. When was the last time you took time off?” Celestia shrugged and put her teacup down. If her sister had a point, it had been rendered moot by her plans now. “I intend to visit to Ponyville in the middle of the month.” “Visit.” Luna arched a brow as she repeated the word. “By which you mean a royal visitation of Ponyville with all the bells and whistles. Mayor Mare wishes to discuss funding?” “As a matter of fact, no,” Celestia said. That the visit was not preplanned to a tee like all the others was equal parts unsettling and pleasant. “You’re working towards a point, though. Do go on.” “No, I am simply speaking before I think. Thinking out loud, if you will. I’m glad to be wrong.” Luna rose to stand, slipping out from the seating area and making for the chamber’s single small balcony set in the back wall. Celestia followed, bringing her teacup along. Sometimes, her sister seemed to be taken by these fey moods, and usually, millennia of sisterhood let her understand them to some degree. Not so much, now. Luna halted her slow walk only when she stood at the balcony’s edge, and Celestia stepped up to stand with her after depositing the cup on the broad stone railing. Beneath, the palace courtyard was empty save for the everpresent pair of guards whose armor reflected the moonight. Beyond, Canterlot was aglow with thousands of lights, and further still, Mount Canterlot’s prodigious height afforded them a view of southern central Equestria’s townships and villages. Isolated clusters of light dotted the dark greens of the land. Luna’s eyes, however, were glued to the sky. “Do you remember before?” Celestia spread her wings and arched her neck, stretching every joint before she furled her wings anew. “There are a lot of ‘befores.’ When?” “Any of them. Right up until before my banishment, we used to play among the stars.” Celestia smiled at the memories that flocked to her. “I do remember that, yes.” “And?” “Am I to say something?” Luna hopped up to stand on the balcony’s railing, one foreleg raised and bent, wings spread. “Would you like to go for a flight, slightly dense sister of mine?” Celestia shifted where she stood, pausing mid-sip. She meant to put the teacup down on the plate, but missed her mark, nearly dropping the delicate thing. “I, ah. I want nothing more,” she said, averting her eyes at Luna’s thinly veiled frown. “I really should get back inside to attend the next set of reforms, though.” “Should,” Luna said, the word sounding very different in her voice. “And want. Will you not fly with me? We have a set of competent staff members who are paid to do the exact things you take upon yourself. All you do is steal the job out of their hooves. What changed?” Celestia turned on the spot and made for the balcony door. Her wings itched in the most annoying way, and her entire body felt ungainly and awkward in retreat. “A thousand years happened. I’m not sure I remember how.” “Somehow I doubt you’ve forgotten how to fly,” Luna said, hopping down to follow in Celestia’s hoofsteps. The Sun Princess said nothing until she reached the main doors of the court’s chamber, where Luna paused. “No. That, at least, I remember,” Celestia managed, shaking her head and turning to cross necks with her sister. “Thank you for tea.”