I might be watching the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and by tomorrow I’ll probably be disgusted at myself for even thinking it.
It’s funny what makes you look back at your life. Before this year, I could never have guessed that I’d be standing beside Princess Celestia watching a sunset that’ll touch poets so deeply it’ll give ’em the trots. Since her sister came back, she’s put hours into the last sunset of every week, and I hadn’t even noticed until now.
I guess that’s me all over. You wouldn’t think a scrapper like me would fall in with a ponies like these, but I remember the day I arrived in Canterlot to try out for Luna’s groupies. Thunderer, the big guy, lines us all up and starts dishing out trivial, inane, and demeaning tasks like we were training to be lapdogs. I figured it was some loyalty test or other – find out if we were willing to put the good of the team above our individual blushes. As soon as I was knee-deep in mud I remembered that I was here because I’d punched out my supervisor for back talking me and wanted something different. I let the boss-pony have an earful right then and there. I mean, why not? If was to fail, I might as well add a personal touch to it.
They hired me on the spot. These ponies are crazy.
Turned out, they wanted a pony who would stand up for herself, even against a princess. ‘Serve in Luna’s retinue’, they said. ‘Bring justice to Equestria’, they said.
‘Babysit a princess with thousand-year-old emotional issues’ wasn’t in the brochure. Good job, too, or I might have refused.
Of course, we were just Luna’s rag-tag bunch of troublemakers back then, but now, we’re the Paladins: Luna’s more reputable bunch of troublemakers.
I… this really is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. It’s like… like one of those expensive cocktails that’s layered in five different colours, only I get to stare into it while it’s warming the back of my throat. And my belly. And the backs of my eyes. This thing is…
So, Paladins. Who’d have thought that? It sounds so officious and noble until you’ve seen us trying to play charades after Luna stacked the deck with such marvels as ‘My hooves smell like dead fish’ and ‘Spank me like you mean it’.
And then there was that time we had to introduce the ‘no shapeshifting’ rule during wrestling. The others have formal training, so it was tough going. Luna probably worried that I was feeling picked on, so she joined in; she can be such a sap when she isn’t pretending not to be, and she didn’t get that I enjoy the challenge, either. She’s also not half as strong or clever as she thinks she is, and promptly lost to all but Vanilla, but I reckon he let her win.
Next thing you know she’s a giant black bear and pinning all of the boys to the ground, only it’s not so much wrestling and just sitting. Luckily it also turns out that Luna’s ticklish.
Never again – that’s best for everypony involved.
Paladins: a bunch of degenerates whose sole function is to never take Luna too seriously. Well, yeah, there is that thing about carrying the authority of the Princess wherever we go, but it’s not like we’d ever abuse that... much.
Good bunch of lads, but me? How’d I get to be standing here on Celestia’s balcony watching more shades of red, orange, and purple than I can name spread through the heavens like an oil painting that just can’t quite settle on exactly what perfection is?
Wow. I didn’t even know I could think like that. It seems I’m in good company, though: Celestia is getting a bit weepy herself. No chance of anyone catching me doing that.
She’s an odd one though, Celestia. At first, she was disappointing. To regular ponies, she’s as much myth as flesh-and-blood creature, but she can be a bit twee, if you’re not the kind of pony into hugs, bubblebaths, and talking about… feelings. She’s got a hard edge when she needs it, sure, but it’s not like she’d ever threaten anypony over the last slice of Battenberg. Not like Luna. Luna plays hardball most of the time, and sometimes she gets it wrong – she’s one of us. Truth is, Celestia just has patience. I am never going to forget that time we tried the old ‘magic bubblebath’ gag, and for at least thirty seconds, we thought we’d poisoned the whole wing.
I panicked like a little filly when everypony started coughing and gaging, but the look of relief on Vanilla’s face when Celestia’s staff finally quit playing dead and burst into laughter was priceless.
She’s not a prankster; she’s a counter-prankster. And she should definitely come with a warning label. Or a restraining order.
Sadly, her copper-tops have less imagination. Four guards, three reels of duct tape, and a flag pole: anyone can do that math. Totally worth it, though.
Yeah. Worth it. Worth it all, to be here now. Shoulder to shoulder with Miss Squeaky Clean, as...
By all the old gods, the moon is coming up at the same time. I don’t believe it. The sun’s not even halfway behind the horizon and the moon is creeping up to greet it. The light’s fading fast. The sun’s corona… like an aurora of dying flames reaching around the moon and—
Wait. When did I start using words like aurora? And why am I thinking about how good Celestia looks in this light? This sunset is messing with my brain!
La la la la la la. Think of something else. Think of something else.
Oh. Heh. Silverlight, you teacher of words that I will never admit to knowing. I remember discovering that you have the biggest crush on Twilight Sparkle. I snuck into your room and painted one whole wall as a mural to your beloved doe-eyed mistress while Vindicator and Glory dressed up as you and her to play at making out before your eyes, ice-cream cones taped to their heads and everything. Ha! Glory sucked that cone off like it was—
Nononono… Not thinking about that! Also not thinking about the things I could do to that guy watching from his roof – or what he could do to me. No! Not thinking about that! If I can just get through this without crying, my image will be intact...
Finally it’s gone dark. The last hint of soft, warming reds fade into a deepening purple as the last of the sun’s rays vanish and the moon picks up its pace. Almost immediately, I feel the first chill of night rustling my mane, and I look up to check on Celestia. Glazed eyes, tear-stains, distant wisp of a smile: you can tell she’s thinking about Luna. That’s how it works in these parts.
She doesn’t show it much, but it’s nice to see. They’re not quite as chummy as some ponies think, but now and again, it’s clear just how deeply connected to they are. If Luna could see this—
Ahh, crap. Luna.
On cue, the doors to the balcony burst open with enough concussive force to send them flying off into the streets below were it not for Luna’s magical grip.
The Princess of the Night surges forwards, dressed in a shirt with ‘I WRESTLE BEARS’ emblazoned on the front, raises herself up on her hind legs, points an unshod hoof at her sister, and proclaims, “On your face, Celelstia!”
Oh yeah. Princess Luna is an idiot.
“In your face,” I say, not restraining my irritation. “You throw something in another pony’s face. We practiced this for half an hour!”
Honestly, you can’t give them so much as an inch.
“Ahh. We appear to have ruined the moment. Your modern colloquialisms are most troublesome.” Luna frowns hard, and makes what I can only describe as ‘duckface’.
I have no idea what that’s about.
“Go out and do it again, and do it right this time.”
"Yes. Of course. One moment please.”
She steps back, and the moment the doors slam shut, I look up at Celestia. Her mouth is hanging slightly open – now that’s truly rare.
“Could I have a bucket of water, please?”
I’m not sure if she’s genuinely stunned, or three leagues ahead of me as usual, but the bucket appears out of thin air while she’s looking back at the doors in anticipation of their imminent re-explosion.
Boom!
“In your—”
And I unload the bucket of water, right in the kisser.
“Face,” I finish for her. “I have a thing and throw it in another pony’s face. Is that clear now?”
“Quite,” says Luna, dripping water onto the already drenched ground. Where her wetted mane now hangs heavily from her neck, a similarly damp animal now stands on its tiny back legs and shakes the water off itself.
“Ahh. I see you brought one of the accounting weasels. Nice touch.”
Luna smiles. She really has got the hang of keeping her composure.
“Thank you, Artemis. Now, if you’re quite finished, I would like to gloat at my sister.”
I shrink into a corner. I know when I’m at the limit of being indulged.
“Have we, or have we not, sister, bested thee as we proclaimed that we would? Was that not the most astounding sunset ever beheld by our beloved subjects?”
There’s a short pause – somewhat underlined by continued dripping and a tiny sneeze from Luna’s head-mounted weasel.
“Luna…”
Celestia’s actually stunned. Go Team Luna!
“Sister… How? How did you do that? In all my years, I have never seen such a thing. It was incredible, you… were amazing.”
“Huzzah! You hear that Cecil?” The weasel squeaked, then sneezed. “We are the victor! Cecil will facilitate your payment of our wager at your earliest convenience. Now, if you will excuse us. Artemis?”
“Yes, Drippy?”
“Run.”
And with that, I leap off the balcony. She’s in a good mood, so I reckon I’ll get a good thirty-second head start.
I am Paladin Artemis.
Some days I fight crime.
Most days, this is my crazy life.
Very nice. Always did love Artemis, it's good to see more of her. And you just gotta love a job, a prime qualification of which is "takes no crap from a Princess."
I do hope you're able to come up with more, this is too fun a universe to only have such limited glimpses at.
Interesting. So the week runs Monday to Sunday here?
Enjoyed the ambiguity on who was doing the sunset. I like the character voicing, and the more elevated diction makes a strong enough contrast that Artemis remarking on it seems reasonable, and also came at good points for emphasis. The detail that Artemis doesn't seem to know how to drink layered cocktails is a nice touch that fits with the rest of how she was coming across.
Sold me on looking into Shades of Grey sometime.
6172538
Ehh. Equestria copies our world in every other way, so I kinda took it for granted.
Specifically, I don't have a clue, but the fact that cocktails may not even exist in an alcoholic context in-world, I never imagine it's was terribly relevant to look up.
Well, just to be upfront: Shades of Grey is a completely different animal. It's slow-paced and revolves around Rarity falling into a self-destructive hole. Artemis isn't in it, and the others are still guards, but if you get to the end, you'll get to see where the Paladins come from. I mean, hey, I think it's a good read, just be aware that it's utterly different in style.
6172090
I figure it's exactly what Luna needs. She's too volatile (generally unstable, not just potentially angry) for anyone who has to obey her orders to be of any real use to her. Feedback is paramount to emotional growth, and the Paladins run the gamut from contemplative and serene to doubt-ridden and insecure, to... well, Artemis :) They're blatantly a parallel to the main six – just with more of them!
I still have other ideas (the Hearts and Hooves scene is the one I'd like to get to sometimes), and Chris really wants me to write something about accounting weasels, so...
6172538
You're better off with Movements of Fire and Shadow. That one has Artemis as a prominent player (heh)
6174541
Ah. I'm used to it running Sunday to Saturday.
ETA: Despite the fact that ISO 8601 was promulgated before I was born. Calendars, office software, etc., substantially all of it I've ever been exposed to has been Sunday to Saturday.
Well, I do have a certain affinity for stories in which someone falls into a self-destructive hole. So that's also good.
6174820
Huh. That's interesting. I've literally never heard it any other way, but now that the concept has been raised, I've done a little bit of Googling.
Looks like it's all based in the difference of opinion over whether the 'Sabbath' is Saturday or Sunday. I've never had any religious influences in my life (save for my investigations over the last few years), and the UK officially recognises the international standard, which is apparently Monday to Sunday, so it's easy to see why I've never heard it before. Of course, I don't think anyone actually cares when the official international standard is, so screw 'em.
It seems that Judaism, older sects of Christianity, and Islam are the source of the Sunday–Saturday week.
As far as the story is concerned, though, it's just a title – a real-world reference to make a point. I avoided using actual names because I think the show has always dodged anything that can be pinned down. They may not even have a sun-day, although that would make sense, much like moon-day.
Either way, thank you for asking. I now know more than I did before :)
(As an afterthought, what do people's calendars show in Windows? Mine shows Mon–Sun, so I'm wondering whether that's a programmed localisation.)
6174904 I grew up with religious influences, but I think that was secondary to seeing weeks start with Sunday everywhere else. I wonder now if it's another case of US cultural resistance to change and international standardization, like never following through with adopting the metric system.
My (US) Windows, Office, and the like defaulted to Sunday as the first day of the week, but can be set to have any day start the week.