Dianzhu brought them an enormous pile of hot steamed buns shortly before sunrise the next morning, quietly pushing open the door and leaving a wooden tray just inside. The noise woke Clover. The scent woke Celestia.
For once, she ate with him — shoving entire buns into her mouth at once, chewing noisily as she rubbed at sunken, reddened eyes. Clover managed to grab two buns out of the two dozen. The millet flour was sweet and soft, and as he bit down, rich custard-like filling spurted out.
There was a loud series of thumps from outside as Dianzhu hauled an enormous barrel up the stairs, grunting and puffing. It didn't even make it into the room before Celestia snatched it from him, upended it over her muzzle, and began virtually inhaling the water inside.
As it ran dry, she lowered it with a long sigh — then locked eyes with Clover, guilt flitting across her muzzle. She exchanged some rapid-fire conversation with Dianzhu, who laughed, nodded, and returned a few moments later with a mug of water. Clover drank it as the dragon and the alicorn chatted a bit more — with Dianzhu saying something with a grin and a head-shake, Celestia making a noise of disgust and muttering something back, and Dianzhu laughing and shooting back a short line that got Celestia chuckling too.
"What was that about?" Clover asked as Dianzhu excused himself and headed back downstairs with a cheery wave.
Celestia shook her head vigorously, combing through sleep-matted clumps of pink mane with her magic and making a face. "All that effort, and I didn't even beat the record I set when he was a whelp." She smiled wryly; it fell quickly away. "He joked that we must both be going soft in our old age."
Clover poked the sleek line of Celestia's flank, smiling. "If this is soft, I can't imagine what you looked like last time you came through."
"That was the joke, yeah." She stretched out her wings to full extension, wincing. "Mmmmh. This is the one part I hate about drinking."
"Most ponies feel that way, Imperatrix," Clover said. "And they only have to deal with normal hangovers."
"Yeah." Celestia glanced back and forth, frowning, as if something was missing — then her eyes drifted back to Clover, and she scraped a hoof in a little circle on the floor.
Clover tilted his head inquisitively.
"So, um," she said quietly, "thanks for staying with me yesterday."
"Of course," he said, raising an eyebrow. "This is our trip, isn't it?"
"Yeah, but I didn't bring you to foalsit me as I sleep the liquor off." Celestia gestured at a corner of the room. "That was always Luna's job. I'd wake up and she'd be sitting there, staring at me. Then she'd go get me water, and tell me everything she did while I was asleep, and where we were heading next. Heck, she planned the entire campaign against the Oni Kings right here in this room."
"You two sound pretty inseparable," Clover said, curious enough to humor the subject change.
"Are you kidding? It was us against the world for a century! It always feels weird to be back here without her, actually." Celestia glanced around the room again. "But it's not the first time. She knows I'll be back. We're too perfect a pair."
Clover wasn't certain what to say to that. After a moment, Celestia started shifting in a way that suggested she didn't, either.
"A lot of memories with this room," she finally said. "You know, the last time we were here together wasn't the planning session. It was when …"
Clover waited for her to finish the sentence. Celestia bit her lip, then turned her head to the tiny window looking out over the street.
"When?" he prompted.
She turned back to stare at him for a moment, then let out a quiet sigh, and her gaze fell to the floor. "When we were healing," she said quietly. "After it was all over."
Clover winced in sympathy. Tentatively, he walked up to Celestia and rested his head against her shoulder. She turned to look when he did, but made no move.
"Eight whole months," she said distantly.
Clover gave her a little nuzzle. "Was this before or after your drinking record?" he said, trying to lighten the mood.
"After." Celestia stirred, and the corners of her mouth crooked into a short-lived smile. "I think that was when Dianzhu decided he wanted to become a soldier. He was seven years old at the time. While we were healing, he'd bring us steamed buns in the morning, and stick around while we ate, begging us for war stories till his dad chased him off." She let out a brief chuckle. "I told him all the good ones. Then, one day, Luna made him sit down for four hours and went into great detail about the battle against the Oni Kings. He followed his dad into the family business after that."
Clover chuckled and patted Celestia's leg. After a moment, she unfolded a wing, draping it over his back.
"Thank you for sharing, Imperatrix," Clover said gently.
Celestia gave a little start, glancing down at him and seeming to refocus. For a moment, she blinked uncertainly, looking straight into his eyes.
Then the moment passed, and she forced out a hearty laugh. "It's our trip, right? You and me against the world." Without giving him a chance to respond, Celestia lunged in for a vigorous kiss — then lit her horn to slam the door shut and haul him to the bed.
Her motions were clumsy and her reactions slow, but it was still more than enough to preoccupy Clover for a while. As they cuddled together in the aftermath, though, he began to realize from Celestia's distant stare that he wasn't the only one for whom the distraction was temporary.
Clover lit his horn and stroked her withers. "Imperatrix," he gently said, "what's on your mind?"
She didn't answer right away. Clover was wondering whether to say anything else when she stirred, gave him a squeeze, and murmured, "I'm glad you're here."
Clover smiled and kissed her chin.
The laugh Celestia responded with was a little shaky. "That was pretty romantic, huh? See, I can do romance."
It was, Clover thought. But he deliberated for a moment, then — curious about her reaction — declined to rise to the bait of the subject change, instead simply giving her a little nuzzle.
Celestia was still for a moment, then she sighed and looked away. "It's just …" she started. "I almost didn't come here."
There we go, Clover thought. "Why?" he murmured.
"Dianzhu was a good whelp," she said — halting at first, then the words starting to spill out. "And he's a good drake. I try to check in on him once in a while. Plus it gives me another chance to beat the old record." A smile flitted briefly across her muzzle. "But Luna absolutely refuses to come back to Lambyang, and she argues with me every time I ask her to come. I guess I was just sc—" Celestia cut herself off sharply, then corrected herself before Clover could speak. "I wasn't sure whether you'd feel the same way."
"Of course not, Imperatrix," Clover said, giving her a gentle squeeze. "I'm grateful to get to see what's important to you." He gently rotated her muzzle with a hoof so he could look in her eyes, and smiled. "And you're right. That is romantic."
He felt her body relax underneath him. "Yeah," Celestia said, then gripped him and rolled over to put them side by side. "And she's kinda right, you know? But also wrong."
"How do you mean?"
Celestia shrugged a shoulder. "She says it's pointless to get attached to him — he's only gonna die on me in the end. And sure, he'll probably be gone the next time I come back. Doesn't mean I shouldn't have fun for a little while."
Clover tried to ignore the sudden stabbing pain in his heart, and buried his face in Celestia's chest so she wouldn't see his expression.
"Yeah," he said faintly.
"So, yeah," Celestia said after a while. "Thanks for sticking around here with me."
"Of course," he murmured.
She's right, he tried to tell himself. Live in the moment. Enjoy this while it lasts. He was distracted by a low chuckle, and glanced up into her eyes.
Celestia was grinning. "You saved me from a sad, lonely hangover. I guess that makes us even for saving you from the rock dragon, huh."
Clover managed a faint laugh. "I guess it does," he said.
Given everything she'd shown him, the score was the farthest thing from even that he could imagine, but it felt good to pretend.
Once they got up, Celestia excused herself for a little while — she needed to check in at the Dragon Palace, she said, and it was probably best not to bring any ponies they wouldn't recognize. Sit tight, she told Clover, and she'd be back for lunchtime.
Clover hugged her goodbye, smiled as she trotted out, and then took a long, deep breath. I should trust her, he thought. This is our trip. She's glad I'm here. She wouldn't simply vanish on me. And he was a bit surprised to discover that — except for an all-too-familiar voice of fear at the back of his head — he did trust her. As impulsive and temperamental as she was, she was at heart a good pony. A pony who restrained her strength for her mortal lover. Who spent two lifetimes trying to find her father. Who still visited dragons that had idolized her as a whelp.
So he picked his book back up and returned to his notes. And Celestia did, in fact, return promptly at mid-day — before he had even had a chance to second-guess himself.
She was carrying a wooden pot filled with warm broth, noodles, herbs, and chunks of carp. "Brought some leftovers from the banquet," she said, and Clover dug in without hesitation; compared to some of the dishes he'd been exposed to over the course of the trip, meat which was immediately recognizable as fish was practically Equestrian cuisine.
Celestia watched him eat in comfortable silence. Clover took a brief break to nuzzle her shoulder. She smiled and gave him a brief hug with the iron grip of an outstretched wing.
"We should probably get going soon," Celestia said when the bowl was nearing empty. "Still got places to show you."
Clover set the dregs of his meal down and began rummaging through his saddlebags. "Before we do, Imperatrix," he said, "I've got something for you."
"Oh?" Celestia said, sitting a little straighter.
Clover withdrew the finely filigreed hornring from his bag, floating it over to her with a smile. "What do you think? Isn't the work on this exquisite?"
He was completely unprepared for her raised eyebrow and the disappointment that shaded onto her muzzle. "Really?" Celestia said.
Clover blinked, feeling heat creep into his cheeks. "Ah," he said defensively, "I do realize that the locals seem to have an inordinate prejudice against the materials in use, but I think we as ponies can look past that to the beauty and effort in its construction —"
Celestia snorted and detached the tiny golden clasp from one edge of the ring, lobbing it in an arc toward his face. Clover reflexively caught it, and his embarrassment redoubled. He had forgotten that, after it kept falling off of its companion cord, he had attached the clasp to the ring to keep the tiny bit of gold from falling out of his increasingly worn saddlebags.
"C'mon, Frumpy," Celestia said, rolling her eyes. "You know what I mean. Were you trying to pull one over on me, or did I really just save you from getting scammed?"
"It's not what you think." He held up both forehooves. "I mean … yes, I forgot that I put the clasp on there after I liberated it from a con artist, and if for some reason it bothers you I'm really sorry, but it's broken, and I'm not sure what you think was going to happen."
Both of her eyebrows shot up this time. "Are you trying to tell me you don't know what a Returning Clasp is?"
"No? I've never seen anything like it."
"Seriously? It's the most basic scam —" Celestia paused for a moment. "Oh. Yeah, I guess we only ever saw them this far east." She huffed. "Still, please tell me that you weren't stupid enough to leave the cord behind."
"No, I figured from context that it was important too." Clover fished the golden cord from his bag. "Not that it matters — like I said, it broke in our fight. I keep trying to reattach the cord to the clasp, and I can feel the enchantment of the clasp flare up when I do, but no matter what I do, the cord keeps falling back off and the enchantment dies away again."
"Frumpy." Celestia facehoofed with an incredulous laugh, then pushed the ring back into his chest. "Just … reattach everything together. Then watch."
Clover tilted his head inquisitively, but Celestia merely sat there with a grin. So he hooked the clasp onto one of the filigreed loops, threaded the golden cord through the ring on the clasp, and tied a knot in the cord. The instant he tugged it tight, the knotted end of the cord suddenly swung free from the clasp as if it wasn't there, and dangled loose in his grip.
"See?" he said — but Celestia had already grabbed the cord from his horngrip and looped it around her hoof. She gave a sudden, sharp tug — and the ring vanished from Clover's grip, appearing at the end of the cord and swinging wildly around with the momentum of her pull.
"Oh," Clover said. "That is pretty clever."
"Psssh. If you've never seen it before, maybe." Celestia threw the cord, clasp and ring back toward Clover. "And I'm glad you're trying with the whole gift thing, but I've got no need for one of those. Keep it yourself. Somepony like you might get some use out of it someday."
Clover felt his cheeks begin to flush again. "That's not," he began to protest, and fumbled to detach the clasp from the ring. He thrust the hornring back to Celestia. "This. This is what I bought for you."
She took it, rotating it in her grip, eyes flicking back and forth between it and him.
"Oh," Celestia said.
Clover's heart sunk. "Imperatrix," he said desperately. "If you don't like it —"
"No! No," she quickly interrupted. "It's … nice." She swallowed. "No, it's beautiful. It really is. I haven't seen a hornring this lovely in … maybe ever." She looked away. "Thanks."
"What's wrong with it? I'll get you a better one." Clover braced himself, and then a small ember of hope stirred. "Does it look too fragile? It really isn't — there's a strengthening spell built into it. You won't find jewelry more durable —"
Celestia wordlessly flared her horn. The ring ripped apart into a puff of red-hot wire, its enchantment bursting apart with a shower of golden sparks.
Clover stared, taken aback.
Celestia let out a breath, then glanced up at him. And froze.
"It —" she blurted out as Clover finally began to speak, and they both hesitated, and she pressed on as Clover swallowed through a suddenly dry throat. "It was nice! It was just —" She danced sideways a step, wings twitching, desperation growing in her eyes. "It's a hornring, it doesn't matter how strong it is, it would melt the first time I cast —"
Celestia broke off again, trotting in place, and Clover tried to get a word in edgewise. "Imperatrix —"
"You —"
They both halted again — Clover with lowered ears, Celestia with wide eyes, in the closest he'd ever seen her to actual panic.
"Really, it's —" Clover ventured.
"The thought —"
Clover winced, and tried to seize the conversational momentum, ears going fully flat. "It's alright," he said with a conviction he didn't feel. "You were right, you'd have had no use —"
"I'm sorry!" she blurted out.
Clover blinked, uncertain if he had heard that right.
"I'm sorry," Celestia repeated faintly, her own ears drooping. "I — you — so many ponies give me gifts I can't use, but yours was so nice …"
She had apologized. She hadn't even apologized for trying to take the sun. And yet here she was, apologizing for destroying his gift.
"It's okay," Clover said haltingly, and realized to his shock that it really was. "It's okay," he repeated softly, stepping forward, smiling gamely and resting a hoof on her shoulder.
She had apologized. To him.
"I'll get you a hornring," Celestia said. "They'll have jewelers in the Dragon Palace —"
"It's okay," Clover said softly, and nuzzled her throat.
She let out a shuddering breath, and threw her forelegs around Clover — the air bursting from his lungs with a sudden wheeze. He flailed a bit. The pressure eased off. Her body gradually relaxed.
At some length — still clinging to him — Celestia let out a weak chuckle. "I was getting so proud of myself for being the clever one today," she said. "I guess that makes us even again."
They weren't, of course. That was the one tiny, fragile corner of their relationship where Clover had the indisputable edge.
But, he reflected as he held her, the idea that she wanted to treat him as an equal felt far better than the idea of winning ever had.
quick question where did you get the name Imperatrix for celestia
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It’s Latin, it basically means something along the lines of “Empress”, if I’m not mistaken. It’s a Dominant Female form of “Imperator”.
Yikes!
So, Luna makes no attachments, whereas Celestia seeks them out, and each sets their course. Except Luna loses the one attachment she had always counted on to all of those mortals Celestia wants to interact with.
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To be a bit more specific, it’s the feminine form of the Latin word from which we get the word “Emperor”, although that is not what it actually means in Latin itself. The word imperator is actually better translated as “general” or “commander”. An imperator was a Roman general who had been victorious in battle. Later the Emperors of Rome took the title for themselves once they dropped all pretenses of Rome not being a monarchy (for a while the Emperor was referred to as princeps, “First Citizen”, from whence we get the word prince).
I’m guessing Horizon is using the term in that sense, that Celestia has been successful in battle, and not in the later Imperial sense.
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oh ok that makes sense thanks
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AH, thank you! I knew I was oversimplifying the heck out of it, but I couldn’t remember what it actually meant, so, yeah.
That author's note...
A shame Celestia couldn't keep the ring.
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A literal translation would be He(or, in the case of -trix, she) who orders, as in, he/she who gives orders to soldiers.
I really love the latin terms that end in -tor and -trix, they're always a little wacky when directly translated. The term for a female prostitute, for example, translates to "she who earns", which I tentatively take as a positive reflection of roman views on prostitution, given there were actually a few jobs available to women at the time.
An apt metaphor to describe the hard reality of existence: All we are is hornrings on an alicorn, dude.
Awww, they are bonding.
Nothing can possibly go wrong now. Nope.
Guess Star Swirl was talking about a different student.
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I was thinking something similar, but as a more general expression for something fleeting.
"The moment of quiet, beautiful as it was, could not last. It would disappear, like a hornring on an alicorn, at the start of the day"
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I did use it in the "General"/giver-of-orders sense, yes. (Celestia does more enthusiastic smashing than she does actual leading, but when you have a single soldier who can level entire opposing forces in a single blow, you give them any title they darn well want.)
I love that I'm learning even more about the etymology here in comments!
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It begs the question: Can Celestia fashion a hornring with an enchantment that can withstand even her own power?
This is one o' them stories I can upvote right now before reading a single word of the revision.
(also you're required to Lulu this someday with illos)
She could have worn it on a necklace, might have lasted half a day before something destroyed it that way.
What lovely fluff, thanks for the update!
Hmmm... I think I understand the riddle of Starswirl. And it's... pretty sad.
But, if I'm correct, it makes me more intrigued.
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And if you think that's wacky, wait until I tell you what 'Amanda' means!
Ah, the continuing saga of love between One Punch Horse and Squishy Sidekick.
This is why Celestia can't nice things, Clover, because you haven't yet figured out that Starswirl was probably researching Circle of Protection: Alicorns. (Which is probably why he was so coy. Can't have just anyone/-thing be immune to them!)
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To love/ one who is worthy of love?
I don't know enough latin to be sure this is even remotely correct but I think amaretrix as 'she who loves' could be a neat title
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It's "she who must be loved"
Well this has been an interesting ride so far, and I'm looking forward to seeing
it crash and burnwhere it goes from here. It'll bedeliciously tragiclovely!The characterization is fascinating, and I'm adoring it so far.
I wonder if Star Swirl's prophecy may be about two different kinds of love, one for family (Dianzhu) and one for a partner (Clover). Hmmm.
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Ah, excellent, the imperitive.
Outside of the obvious way this applies to Clover in addition to Dianzhu, it occurs to me that we may also have already seen how this difference in philosophy on Immortals interacting with mortals plays out in the long run. Celestia by all appearances that we have seen so far ends up living reasonably successfully in touch with the population for centuries. Luna, on the other hand, eventually goes Nightmare Moon for not having those connections.
Now there's a solid 'world of cardboard' moment there with that ring gift.
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The chapter was good, but this... this is just sublime.
A clever pony might wonder if perhaps that was a sign she didn't actually mean to take it.
Ok. I know differences between pony and human courtship have never been established in any official capacity, but there is one thing. Shining Armor and Cadence did exchange horn rings at their wedding. That being the case, is there deeper meaning behind that gift I have to wonder, and subsequently her offer after the fact. Because it makes that scene so much deeper and sad if that's the case.
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I wasn't specifically going for that with the hornring gift, though you can interpret it that way if you like. The scene you're reading happens something like 14 centuries before the show's present, so there's time for practices to change.
Awwe, this chapter is so adorable. Funny how you can describe an earth-shattering war goddess in such a way.