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Whose Reflection She Hates2,824 words

Who Cries in the Night

The Stolen Child
A My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction

Chapter Four:
Who Cries in the Night

Disclaimer: I do not own My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic --
the characters and creations are the property rights of Hasbro, Inc.
and the MLP: FiM writers, producers, etc.

Nubulis burst through the foyer’s double doors, powerful wings vibrating with anxiety. Celestia’s worries and personal concerns were doused in nervous excitement for the arrival of her sister. Unable to keep up with the tremendous speed of her father, she was accompanied by the stallion valet back to the manor.

“Solaria!” Nubulis called, thunderous voice bellowing in the great vaulted ceiling of the entryway. The clip-clopping of servant maids’ hooves echoed as the mares descended from the master bedroom. Before they could speak, a pained whinny reverberated through the home.

Nubulis took off with one massive beat of his wings; the draft that followed him startled the maids, ruffling their tamed manes. Celestia was breathing heavily as she landed in the foyer alongside the valet.

“M’lady!” Flora Wheatley cried, brightening as she trotted over to her charge. Celestia’s eyes darted around the manor.

“Your father just flew up tah the bedroom chamber quicker than lightnin’! We called Miss Stodmiere tah come soon, too,” Flora reported. Silently, Celestia began to walk up to the master bedroom. Flora cantered to stand in her way.

“Please, m’lady! Ya won’t be wantin’ tah watch. When a mare is in labor,” Flora said, words punctuated by another of Solaria’s cries, “she needs tah relax. Or at least try tah.”

Solaria whinnied again, voice cracking as pain shook her once more. The sound fell into Celestia’s ear like a rush of cold air; she shivered. What was she to do? Was she useless? Celestia took a few steps backward from Flora, glancing from servant to servant, unsure.

One of the maids nodded to Flora. The earth pony chuckled nervously before walking over to Celestia with her gentle smile.

“You must be starvin’ after yer Presentation, m’lady. Let’s get some nice, warm hay-turnip stew from tha kitch’ns.” Flora began to lead Celestia to the kitchens, nestled snug and warm behind the grand dining hall. Just as they turned into the polished mahogany hall, the double-doors opened in the foyer.

“Nurse Stodmiere! We’re very pleased that--”

The servants quieted suddenly. Celestia glanced back. In the doorway was not the nurse, but the grey unicorn mage that had led the Presentation.

What is she doing here? Celestia thought, dumbfounded. Flora tried to hurry Celestia into the kitchen, but she would not move. The cloaked mage glanced around curiously at the manor with an immovable smile upon her soft face. When she finally noticed Celestia in the corner of the main hall, her grin widened.

“Madam, I’m afraid we’re not taking visitors at the moment,” the valet said, “the mistress of the home is due.”

“Due for what?” The mage asked.

“I’m here, I’m here!” Nurse Stodmiere said. She quickly bustled into the manor, mane frizzled by the chill winter air. “Where is she?”

“Right this way, ma’am,” the head maid, Viola Prim said. As personal attendant to Solaria Spark, Viola grabbed Nurse Stodmiere’s medical bag with a magical telekinetic glow and led the Nurse to the master bedroom hastily.

“Well,” the mage said, “I must extend congratulations to the growing family. Is the mother doing well?”

“So far as we know, m’lady,” one of the young maids squeaked.

“Please, if you could reschedule, that would be most appreciated, miss--?” The valet said, pausing his question to allow the mage to identify herself.

“Ah, yes, how rude of me. I am Master Magie Equuleus,” she said. The valet’s cheeks suddenly burst with an embarrassed pink. He and the maids each bowed their heads respectfully. Celestia tentatively walked towards the mage. What does she want with me, Celestia thought. Had Celestia’s purification spell gone more wrong than she had thought? Well, there was that ‘crack’ she had heard while it was being cast -- what had she broken?

“Master Equuleus, I’m terribly sorry for my rudeness! Please, if you let me know when you are available and for what reason you have graced us, I can relay a message to my master--”

“I do not think that shall be necessary -- I do not wish to speak with your master, though it is by his words I am here. No, I have come to see her, the filly of the house,” Master Equuleus said, pointing gently to Celestia with her hoof. Celestia felt a trail of anxious sparks light and fall down her spine, curling into the pit of her stomach as the shiver that shook her popped into butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

“What do ya wish tah see Lady Celestia for?” Flora asked; the valet frowned severely for the maid’s forwardness.
Master Equuleus was undisturbed by this, and answered, “Why, I wish to take her on as one of my apprentices.”

Flora and the servants grinned widely, but before any of them could celebrate, Celestia curtly asked, “Why?” After all of that...why would she still want to apprentice me?

Master Equuleus laughed gently before walking closer to Celestia, the silver slippers on her feet barely making any noise on the slate floor.

“Surely you need not ask? That was one of the most spectacular displays of raw power I have seen in many Presentations. While Master Oryon may be right in the potential danger of your inexperience, he is keen on missing the potential greatness within you that I feel need only be guided by a Master, just as your father, Captain Nubulis, said,” Master Equuleus stated. She gave a reassuring grin. Celestia felt quite small before the grey mare, though the unicorn was only a little taller than herself. There was a power brimming, not just in her horn, but her entire body. The white cloak that elegantly folded around her flank and dipped past her haunches seemed to be stitched with energy.

“I...I...” Celestia could not find words. Though she reached for them, they could not come, no matter how much she reminded herself to be polite and not seem a stuttering foal. Luckily, another great whinny came from her mother, followed by loud but indistinct murmurs from Nurse Stodmiere.

“I should intrude no longer,” Master Equuleus said. She bowed her head, and Celestia did the same in stunned silence.

“I shall send for you in a few days’ time to begin your studies. I look forward to your apprenticeship, Celestia,” Master Equuleus said. Her voice was deep and resonating, but with a tender, smooth polish like the gentle taste that settled on the tongue after drinking a well brewed cup of tea. The sound soothed Celestia’s heart, releasing the catch in her throat.

“T-thank you so much, Master Equuleus. I shall not let you down,” Celestia said, bowing deeper so that her horn was angled in great respect. When she straightened, the mage left swiftly and soundlessly. The valet closed the door behind her gently. Just as the maids and servants began to crowd around Celestia and congratulate her, another pained whinny came from above. Nurse Stodmiere’s stark voice rang out. A few punching wing beats echoed as Nubulis flew down, sweat coursing down his muzzle.

“Water! Fetch towels and water!” The servants dispersed instantly, flying off in many directions like flurries flying from the tip of a sparkler. Nubulis shot back up to the master chamber without another word. Celestia’s excitement was quelled by fear. Was her mother all right? The baby? As she began to trot to the chamber, Flora again blocked her path.

“Please, m’lady, let’s go tah the kitch’ns ‘n get ya somethin’ good tah eat, alright?” Flora led Celestia quickly through the spotless dining hall as flustered maids tended to the mare in labor upstairs, and the valet flapped his wings nervously in the entryway.

Celestia sat at the wooden table in the kitchen where many of the servants would eat their lunches. She stared vacantly at the swirls of the wood grain as Flora clipped, clanked, and clopped around the cabinets and pots for food. She lit the double-burners of the auger stove to re-heat the hay-turnip stew.

I feel so useless...mother is upstairs screaming and I...I don’t know...

“Oh, m’lady, ya can’t worry ‘bout these things none,” Flora said warmly. The coppery-beige earth pony smiled widely as she stirred the pot of stew.

“And why shouldn’t I? You...you heard her. And father, he looked...he never looks scared,” Celestia said. She felt a surge of emotion prick and lump in her throat, and tears tingle at the corners of her lavender eyes.

“Goodness, m’lady. Between this mornin’ and this evenin’, you sure have a case of the blues. What’s eatin’ at ya, dear?” Flora asked. She gripped the soup ladle with her strong jaws and spooned a bowl of stew for her charge. With practiced balance, she brought the bowl to the table with her hoof and gave it to Celestia.

Celestia sighed and kept the tears back. The lump in her throat was stubborn, but she was more stubborn. She sipped the hot stew. The few seconds that it slipped down her throat and nestled warmly in her stomach, she felt better. The chef of the manor, earth pony Mince, was one of the best chefs of Canterlot, and could cook up comfort food better than no other.

“Ya wanna talk about it, m’lady?” Flora asked, for the second time that day. Celestia sipped the stew again and let her eyes follow a dark grain that slid up the table before swirling into a spot of dark brown.

“I don’t know what there is to talk about, Flora. Something just...doesn’t feel right. I don’t feel right. I feel weak, useless...”

“M’lady! Weak! The leader of tha Eight Masters jus’ came tah personally ask ya tah be her apprentice! Aye hardly think that means you’re weak!”

“But that doesn’t matter!” Celestia cried. The stew wasn’t comforting any longer, and the lump in her throat grew stronger. She bit her lip before eating more of the stew. Etiquette was gone as she gobbled the stew quickly and ravenously, the gold, starchy broth staining her lips and nose. Flora rubbed Celestia’s back sympathetically.

“It’s a stressful time, aye know. Sometimes I think you’re parents are tryin’ tah make ya grow up too fast. You’re still a filly! You shouldn’t be worryin’ about grown-up pony problems. Jus’ think about how much fun you’ll have with yer new sister, ‘n all the new magic spells you can learn from Master Equuleus!” Flora offered. Her marigold eyes shimmered with compassion. Celestia stopped eating the stew and nuzzled into Flora’s braided mane. She gasped a few times as she calmed herself. The tears slowed and she stopped crying.

One of the maids cantered into the kitchen breathlessly.

“Flora! We--need--ah, more--towels,” the maid finished. Flora pulled gently away from Celestia. She galloped to the linen closet. Before she ran up to the master bedroom chamber, she gave Celestia one last smile.

“You see -- everything’ll be alright, m’lady,” Flora said. The breathless maid followed after the soft yellow earth pony before she had a chance to catch her breath. From the kitchen, Celestia could only hear the murmurs of servants and hushed whinnies of her mother.

Night had fallen, leaving the manor relatively dark, as the servants were too preoccupied to light the lanterns and candles. Celestia slowly made her way back into the dining hall, and from there out into the foyer. The valet was rekindling the fireplace with an anxious twitch on his face.

“Lady Celestia,” he greeted. Celestia nodded to him, allowing him to return to his duties. Seeing him preoccupy himself with his typical jobs, Celestia decided to try and busy her own mind. She trotted to the bathroom to wash herself. Still quite dim, relying solely on the light of the moon and the drizzling light of the streetlamps, the bathroom was difficult to navigate. Celestia tried to cast a simple illumination spell, but her concentration was shattered by all the chaos of the house.

As she looked out the window, snow began to fall. The soft wafting of the flakes, hoof-crafted by the talented pegasi of Cloudsdale, pushed her lips into a tiny smile. In the silver light of the moon, each looked like a crystal slowly waltzing on a breeze. The ethereal of the beauty reminded Celestia that tonight was, in fact, the winter solstice. It had been unseasonably mild so far, but now, in the night, a chill was almost visible amongst the falling flurry.

The valet opened the door to the bathroom.

“Ah!” Celestia squealed in surprise.

“Oh!” The valet cried. His wings sprung in shock, and he smashed his face in the door frame as he backed out.

“Forgive me, m’lady!” He whimpered, eyes rolling from the hit.

“It’s all right!” Celestia laughed in relief. “You can come in; I was not indisposed,” she said. The valet cautiously returned, wings folded and ears bent in embarrassment.

“I’m afraid the excitement of the manor has truly taken a toll on my manners this evening,” he said sheepishly. Celestia giggled. Often a serious stallion, her father’s valet was truly a kind pony. Seeing him fumble in the midst of the family’s chaos was a change, but somehow, it made him seem more normal.

“Like I said, it’s all right,” Celestia repeated. The valet lit the two sconces and three candles lining the walls of the bathroom. He gave another nod before continuing throughout the rest of the manor to light the other rooms. In the lit bathroom, Celestia could no longer see the flurry as clearly. Catching her reflection in the mirror, she instead decided to wash up.

“What a mess,” she mused aloud. The bits of stew still on her lips had dried into flakes. Drawing water into the sink basin, she washed her face with a cloth. Again looking at her reflection, she smiled as her white coat shone cleanly once again. Her pink mane was ruffled from a day of errands and stress, but still quite far from the knotted mess she woke in the morning with.

Before Celestia retreated from the bathroom, she noticed a blemish on her horn. She tried to wash it with the cloth, but the black smear remained. No, it wasn’t a blemish. Celestia gasped. The crack she had heard when casting the spell -- it had been her horn! Along the seam of one of the spirals along the breadth of her horn seemed to have split, revealing a deep black beneath the normal pearly white. Celestia touched the split again, heart pounding in fear. Had her magic damaged her horn? When her hoof touched the spot, it didn’t hurt. Yet, it looked like the split was filled with a black scab of dried blood.

Many hooves suddenly shuffled and pounded excitedly upstairs. Celestia jumped as the noise tore her from the dreaded inspection of the wound on her horn. As she heard hooves rushing down the stairs, she quickly grabbed a bandage from beneath the sink basin and hastily wrapped a bandage around the split.

“M’lady! M’lady!” Flora cried. Celestia left the bathroom and wore a smile despite the creeping fear inside her.

“Is everything okay?” She asked.

Flora was beaming, “Better than! Come meet your new sister,” she said. Celestia followed Flora’s quick gait as they cantered through the foyer and up the stairs to the master bedroom. Flora parted the doors and made way for Celestia to enter.

At the center of the room was a large bed. At its side sat her father, Nubulis, slaked with sweat but glowing with a joyous grin on his face. Nurse Stodmiere stood opposite him with a proud gleam in her eyes. Maids tentatively took bloody towels and dirtied bowls away from the bedroom, swiftly moving around obstacles, be they objects or other ponies.
And there, at the center of the bed, lay her mother. Solaria Spark’s coat glistened with sweat, and though her mane was disheveled, a great beauty radiated from her. Curled before her, leaning gently against her quivering flank, was a tiny blue foal.

Celestia’s mind went blank. She approached the bed with unnecessary caution.

“Celestia,” Nubulis said, “meet your new baby sister.”

Celestia beamed. Her wings flapped excitedly, and her tail swished happily. She leaned forward. The foal was awake, hooves just bigger than cherries. Her head was comically large, with the tiniest bump of a horn protruding from just above her brow. Tiny wings were clamped to her small sides. Her mane and tail, a beautiful periwinkle, was fluffed and messy after Nurse Stodmiere had previously cleaned the foal. Her eyes, though, her eyes were simply stunning.

“Her eyes look like starlight,” Celestia said. The foal hiccupped and yawned, flashing a toothless jaw. Celestia giggled. She reached out a hoof to stroke her plump cheek.

“Don’t touch her,” Solaria snapped. The harshness snuffed the moment out. Celestia’s heart went cold. She had felt such warmth, such power, gazing at her baby sister. Love filled her more strongly than the purification spell she had cast. But now, with a razor tongue, Solaria made Celestia feel frozen and weak.

“Your mother just wants you to be careful,” Nurse Stodmiere explained, “newborn foals are very sensitive.”
“Don’t...touch...her,” Solaria said, slurring her words sleepily. Her eyes were closing in exhaustion. Nubulis walked over to Celestia. His wing fell over his daughter lovingly, and he whispered in her ear, “Don’t be hurt. Your mother lost a lot of blood, and has been in pain for hours. She needs rest.”

Celestia nodded to her father’s words. She repeated them mentally, over and over, until Solaria fell asleep and Celestia could comfortably stare into her sister’s eyes again. The newborn pawed at the air with her hoof, seeming to bat at an invisible ball.

“Your mother was brave and very strong,” Nurse Stodmiere said. She spoke in a hushed tone so as not to disturb the sleeping mother. Nurse Stodmiere wiped her face clean before nodding to a maid to pick up the medical bag. “And your baby sister is healthy.”

“I was wrong,” Celestia mused lightly. Nubulis and Nurse Stodmiere looked at each other, confused.

“Wrong about what?” Nubulis asked.

Celestia smiled. “Her eyes don’t look like starlight -- they look like moonlight.”

Nubulis and the Nurse laughed softly. Celestia pulled herself from her reverie and glanced at the two ponies.

“What’s funny?” She asked.

Nubulis hovered silently over the bed. He nuzzled the blue foal’s stomach before kissing the forehead of his sleeping wife. He lowered himself gently until he was lying next to his wife, gazing lovingly at his new daughter.

“Her name,” he said, “is Luna.”

Celestia laughed, too. She moved to kiss the foal, but the sharp words of her mother echoed in her head. She refrained from it, and instead blew on the foal’s face. Luna’s eyes twitched at the air. A curl of periwinkle hair teased and curled around the bump of a horn. A high-pitched sneeze flew from the baby alicorn’s nose. Nubulis and Celestia laughed.

“I like that name. It suits her,” Celestia said.

Then, again, she whispered, “Luna.”

Author's Note: Please, comments are welcomed! I love hearing what people enjoy about the story, as well as any constructive criticisms they have for my work. I'm hoping to double-update this weekend, so chapter five should be available quite soon!

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