The Throne Room of Canterlot Palace was packed to the rafters, quite literally when the pegasi were taken into account, with petitioners, guards, advisors, and officials. Day Court was in full swing, and for the uncountable-upon-tenth time that day alone, Celestia repressed a sigh. Alone in a crowded room described Celestia’s life rather well, in her opinion.
Princess Celestia ex Astria had 7 Cabinet officials, 12 court advisors, 28 personal guards, and over 300 Palace staff at her beck and call, but very, very few friends. She could count on her sister, of course, but her sister was also a Princess. Responsibilities meant that their schedules rarely left time for one another, and while they could choose to throw their itineraries aside for a day of bonding, the ensuing bureaucratic headaches meant they rarely indulged. When their differing sleep cycles were taken into account on top of their duties, it left Celestia very much alone.
Twilight Sparkle had been her salvation.
Celestia smiled to herself as the Minister of the Interior argued with the Minister of Finance over the cost of a railway bridge, listening to their bickering only enough to appear attentive. It had been many years since the little purple filly had unleashed a magical storm that had threatened to engulf her school, and Celestia was absolutely positive the expensive reconstruction had been entirely worth it.
In Twilight she had found, for the first time in years, a pony who wanted nothing more from her than companionship. Twilight’s heart, so pure and loving, had been overjoyed to merely spend time learning and reading with her, to bask in shared company. Twilight had never asked her for anything in her life, aside from more books and the occasional cookie. The thought made her giggle, but fortunately for her the Ministers were so engrossed in their tirades they spared her no notice.
Celestia’s gaze wandered the room, no longer bothering to conceal her distraction. She examined the half dozen stained glass windows that commemorated Twilight’s many triumphs. Her defeat of Nightmare Moon and redemption of Luna, her conquest of Discord, her courageous battle against Tirek, and of course her Coronation.
That last image depicted one of the happiest days of Celestia’s long, long life. The friend she had gained would, unlike all that had come before, never leave her. Twilight would never wither, never fade away until at last her final dying breath was carried away by the bitter, thieving wind. Her dear friend would…
Friend.
Celestia’s smile flickered and died, and she turned her eyes away from the stained glass windows, especially the ones featuring Cadence. A pang of emotion, one she refused to name even in her thoughts, pierced her chest and stole her breath.
The day of Twilight and Cadence’s wedding had been one of the hardest days of her life, almost as hard as the day she had banished her sister. Officiating the ceremony had twisted the dagger plunged into her heart until she felt like screaming, but she had worn her ceramic smile brightly and nopony had suspected a thing. Nopony suspected she would have given everything, even her Kingdom, to trade places with her niece.
Celestia’s ruminations, and the Ministers’ increasingly uncivil discourse, was abruptly interrupted by a shaking so powerful it knocked several ponies off their hooves. A roar unlike anything Celestia had ever heard tore through the air, leaving all but Celestia clutching their ears in torment. A brief, shimmering heat struck every horn in the room, and even Celestia winced in pain. The shock left a flurry of nosebleeds in its wake, and more than half the crowd moaning in discomfort or outright pain.
Celestia was on her hooves and galloping towards the source of the disturbance before her ponies had even begun to recover. She recognized the magic that had shocked her horn, and dread weighed heavily in her stomach as she passed through the labyrinthine halls.
Celestia burst through the heavy timber doors that led to the Palace courtyard, and was confronted with a warzone. The trees lining the yard had been uprooted and tossed about, charred and stripped bare of their leaves. The stone walls around the perimeter were covered in a spiderweb of cracks that placed them a hair's breadth from shattering, and the courtyard’s granite pavestones had been reduced to scorched, jagged gravel.
In the center of the devastation stood Twilight Sparkle, her hooves steaming on the blackened earth. Her mane blazed in a nonexistent wind, wisps of fire flashing in and out of existence like lightning bugs. Twilight’s horn was alight in a display of raw, unfocused power that rolled off of her in waves, choking the air with rage given form.
“WHERE IS HE?!” she bellowed, the force of her voice shattering nearby windows and releasing a hailstorm of glass.
“Twilight?” Celestia asked hesitantly, an anxious tremble coloring her tone.
Twilight turned her gaze toward Celestia, who saw that her eyes were blazing white with fury and power. Twilight recognized her, but didn’t relax. Instead, she teleported, the violence of the spell mutilating the fabric of space and releasing Twilight inches away from Celestia’s muzzle.
“Where. Is. He.”
Celestia reminded herself that she was not facing an eldritch evil, but instead her dear former pupil. The thought helped steady her reply.
“Who?”
“Shining Armor!” Twilight snarled, her clenched teethed bared.
Celestia knew where her Captain of the Guard was, but she didn’t think it would be wise to reveal that information to Twilight. Instead, she asked, “What is the matter, Twilight? Tell me, so that I may help you.” She put on a supportive smile, a genuine one, completely separate from the impression of maternal benevolence she usually maintained.
“Nopony can help me!” Spittle rained on Celestia’s muzzle, but she paid it no mind. The brightening display of enraged magic in front of her was of greater concern.
“Twilight,” Celestia replied in a calm, caring tone, “There is nothing in the world I would not do for you. Please, tell me what has gone so wrong.” She punctuated her short speech by laying a gentle hoof on Twilight’s peytral. The gold of her hoofshoes sizzled from the heat, but Celestia was undisturbed –a fortunate byproduct of her stewardship of the sun.
Twilight stared at her for a long, tense moment, seemingly at war inside her head. Rage fought hard to retain its place of glory, but it was no match for the respect and care for Celestia that Twilight held in the deepest reaches of her heart.
Like a candle dropped in the ocean, Twilight’s fires were snuffed out. She collapsed against Celestia’s chest, sobbing violently enough to nearly shake Celestia off her hooves. It was all she could do to cradle Twilight lov-tenderly, as she offered all the comfort she could.
Through her tears, Twilight choked out, “How could they do this to me?”
Celestia had no answers, and didn’t even properly understand the question. Instead, she stroked Twilight’s mane and let her cry her troubles away.
Halfway through Twilight’s breakdown, a swarm of papers materialized in clouds of green smoke and rained down on their heads. Celestia began to read, and then hugged Twilight even tighter.