Lost and Found

by Cloudy Skies

24. The Adventure

None had laid claim to the Macintosh hills. Not a soul lived in the dry hillscape leading into the drier lands beyond, but despite this, their ancestors had seen fit to draw a line in the dust. What had began as a thought had been marked with a column of rocks to each side of the road, and at some point, some official had decided that the border of Equestria should be painted with a hoof-wide line of orange paint. Celestia tried to search her memory for the culprit, tried to remember when she had approved this. She shot her sister a glance, but Luna seemed lost in thought, staring at the same marker as she, that ominous orange two paces in front of them.

The princesses had an audience. It was shaping up to be an event to rival the summer sun celebration. The festive time’s somber, distant cousin, thrice removed. Commander Heartsong of Fort Macintosh had insisted on providing ‘security’ for their departure, and neither princess had the heart to turn them down. As a result, the four Elements of Harmony were accompanied by two hundred stallions armed for war, neatly arranged into unicorn divisions, pegasus flights and earth pony platoons. It was patently ridiculous, and only long years of training kept Celestia from giggling outright at the spectacle.

She was given help in that regard, though. Four ponies she wanted to call friends were watching her, one of which she hoped to one day call something more. In addition, Luna had not spoken to her since they had finally gone to bed last night. Not until now.

“We should be the one to go,” Luna murmured under her breath. “You have experience running Equestria by yourself.”

“Something I don’t like being reminded of, and something I don’t intend to repeat,” Celestia replied in an equally quiet whisper. She gave her sister a small grin. “You could stand to have an excuse to learn more about modern statecraft anyway.”

“You will forgive us if we do not break into dance out of unbridled joy,” Luna grumped. “We are not looking forward to it. Even if we agree and stay, are you certain you are doing this for the right reasons, sister?”

Celestia chewed her tongue as she thought, but for one precious fraction of a second, her gaze slipped. Behind them, the four Elements waited, each of the four ponies wearing bulging saddlebags and talking amongst themselves in polite whispers—mixed with less polite, loud giggles from Pinkie Pie. Among the four, Celestia’s eyes found Twilight. The purple unicorn immediately noticed her looking and smiled back.

One slip, one tiny moment, and it would be too much to ask that Luna should have missed it. The princesses regarded each other in silence.

“We understand, and will not change our mind. Between us, you are the eldest,” Luna finally said, the dark princess’ lips curling in a smile.

“Thank you,” Celestia replied with a sigh of relief she hoped no one would hear. “I think we better get to what we were here to do. Crossing the border.”

“May we admit something?” Luna asked.

“Unless you’ve replaced my coat shampoo with pink again, I don’t think there is much you could say that I would not want to hear.”

“We fear the border.”

“As do we—I. I mean I. Honestly, Luna, you need to get with the times and drop that royal ‘we’,” Celestia muttered.

“It was not one such. We are aware you fear it too. What we mean is, were it not an actual line on the ground, there would be nothing for us to fear, but as it is, we’ve stood here talking for nearly five minutes,” Luna shrugged.

“Yes. Because the line lets us focus our apprehension. Who commissioned this?” Celestia asked.

“We approved it last era, we think. It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Luna replied. “All the same, as you say, we best get to it.”

Neither of the two princesses moved.

“There is no reason anything should happen. It’s entirely symbolic,” Celestia said.

“It is a line that holds no meaning, except to make us bored and sleepy by staring at it,” Luna said by way of agreement.

“Do you feel tired these days, too? I almost slept in for the first time in fourteen hundred years,” Celestia hummed.

“It is curious,” Luna nodded. “And you are stalling.” Still, they remained standing, whispering to one another while the assembled guard and Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, Rarity and Twilight Sparkle all watched.

“Aren’t you supposed to be the brave and rash one?” Celestia shot, unable to keep a small smirk off her face.

“Ah, wait, we believe we heard a contemporary saying befitting of the situation. ‘Age before beauty’.” Luna countered.

There was a small murmur behind them now. The carefully ordered ranks were shifting, and perhaps more telling, the four friends had fallen silent. Resisting the urge to continue their little game for any longer, Celestia closed her eyes. Time stretched and froze as she pulled on that little tranquil font deep inside, a part of herself that she kept for such moments. When had she last felt so unsettled? When she faced down her sister a millenium ago?

It mattered not. The world stood still, and she hardened herself, excised the fear. When she again let herself breathe, she was at peace. Without pause, giving doubt no time to take root again, Celestia raised her head and strode on.

Among the two hundred and five who watched, two understood the importance of what transpired, and both Luna and Twilight Sparkle flinched as Celestia passed the border of the principality of Equestria for the first time in her life. Celestia’s nigh ageless heart skipped a single beat as her left forehoof passed over the line.

Absolutely nothing happened. Celestia stifled a sigh and turned to look over her shoulder, forcing a smile. Luna waved at her from the other side of the border, nearly close enough to touch. It was an entirely arbitrary and harmless line. Orange paint, and nothing more. The weariness that had settled over Celestia since she left Canterlot and Equestria’s heartland washed over her again and prompted a nervous burst of laughter.

“Take care of Equestria, sister,” Celestia said, something so unprincesslike as a grin spreading across her face. As an afterthought, her horn lit up, and the Princess of the Sun levitated over her golden crown, hovering it in front of Luna until she gripped it with her magic.

“Be safe, sister,” Luna murmured, slowly turning the amethyst-studded jewelry with her telekinesis. “We will have a hard time forgiving you if something happens. One mistake, one failure between the two of us is quite enough for two millennia, for two lifetimes.”

Celestia sighed and crossed the distance between them to give her sister a tight hug. Neck to neck, foreleg around her withers, she held her close. “Hush,” she whispered.

“Ponies are watching,” Luna said in a voice that might have been admonishment, but she hugged back all the same.

“Let them,” Celestia replied, finally letting go and turning to the assembled Elements. “You are all ready to go?”

Three of the four nodded, Twilight’s eyes still big from the moment the princess had relinquished her crown. The unicorn finally gave a jerky nod as well, and with that, Celestia set off. Behind her, she could hear Luna address the assembled guards, and three sets of hoof-beats followed in her wake, accompanied by steadily flapping wings.

Ahead, the red hills sketched a gentle ravine, the ground dry and cracked. What little grass and plant life grew was brittle and sparse, the influence of the San Palomino desert to the west clear. The road was barely worthy of being called that, only the faintest hint of a path maintained by the hooves of the few travellers who kept the southern road alive rather than arriving by way of sea to Baltimare or Manehatten. At long last, she would get to see the larger world with her own eyes. Celestia shook out her mane as she tried to remember how to trot, rather than move at a regal walk.

“Doesn’t giving up your crown mean you officially give up your rulership?” Twilight asked. The studious mare trotted at her side, easily keeping pace.

“Luna and I have never really cared about observing the rules that we wrote so long ago,” Celestia answered, smiling down at her. It was impossible not to wonder how Twilight saw her now, travelling the road like they did.

“Besides, she is technically the sole sovereign in my absence anyway. Managing everything by herself will be hard, but I wouldn’t be much use anyway,” she added.

Rarity gasped at their backs. “Why would you say that?”

Celestia chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. It is idle talk, no need to be alarmed,” she said, shaking her head. When the white unicorn did not protest further, Twilight lowered her voice.

“Are you still feeling tired, princess?” she asked.

Princess. The word still stuck, even without her crown. Celestia swallowed her disappointment and nodded. “I am, but I’m sure you are right. Fresh air, taking a break, all those things.”

“I don’t think I’m going to get used to hearing that,” Twilight murmured.

“Excuse me?”

“‘You are right’,” Twilight echoed with a faint smile. “I’m sorry. Every time you say that now, I—um. Actually, never mind. Sorry.”

“Of course,” Celestia agreed, training her gaze on the horizon. Red mountains, red soil, dry and twisted plants. Slowly the barely-a-path led them down, a gentle incline that aimed for the edge of the Badlands. Within days, they would pass near the mesascape that was visible from on high.

A single memory of the place came to her, then, a vague half-remembered moment of flying as high as she could, of the world opening beneath her. The air had been so thin she could barely breathe, and she’d seen the stunning landscape that lay to her south. She knew then where they would set Equestria’s new border, for there, nothing would grow.

“—princess!”

Celestia shook her head and looked up to find Rainbow Dash hovering in front of her, the pegasus flying backwards. Twilight was glaring at Dash. She would of course assume that Celestia found it inappropriate.

“Rainbow Dash, hello,” Celestia said, smiling and nodding at the apprehensive pegasus. Rainbow Dash twitched. Apprehensive and nervous, then.

“Hey, uh, so. Where are we going?” she asked.

“South. Why do you ask?”

Rainbow Dash very obviously stifled a groan. “I don’t know, maybe you can tell me where so I can fly ahead?”

Princess Celestia frowned. “I do not think that would be a very good idea.”

“I thought we discussed this,” Rarity murmured from the back line, earning an inquisitive noise from the pink pony at her side.

More distressing than any insistence, the rainbow-maned pegasus offered no protest, swallowing and nodding before twisting around in the air to hover ahead of them in silence.

“Is something the matter, Rainbow Dash?” Celestia asked.

“Yeah, no, Fl—two of my—our best friends are missing, things are fine!” Dash snapped without turning.

“Rainbow!” Twilight gasped.

“It’s quite alright, Twilight,” Celestia murmured. “I understand.”

“Great, because I don’t. Forget it,” Dash muttered, looping back to fly over their heads and take up position in the rear with a rather concerned looking Pinkie Pie and a crestfallen Rarity.

Being a princess was not a free pass to omniscience. Celestia sighed and fixed her gaze ahead again.

“My plan was to head south past the Badlands towards the first crossroads. Tribal ponies dwell around the area, and with luck, we can ask them for information on the lay of the land,” Celestia explained with a backwards glance.

“Ooh, ponies?” Pinkie asked, perking up. In an instant, the earth mare’s easy trot had become a four-legged bounce. “What’re they like? I bet they’re super nice!”

“Actually,” Twilight said. “Considering they are the ponies who have willfully chosen to live outside of Equestria and rejected the princesses’ rule on principle, they’re probably very, um—”

“Stupid?” Dash offered.

“Uncouth?” Rarity suggested.

“Boring?” Pinkie asked, fear in her voice.

“Aggressive,” Celestia suggested. “But they should be no threat to us. They are scattered and disorganized, and they will likely fear me. Hopefully not so much that we can’t ask them some simple questions, though.”

“Hey, if they pick a fight, that’s their problem,” Dash said, raising her forelegs and jabbing at the air.

“Let’s try to not make that an option,” Celestia replied. The idea of conflict was never attractive. Worse, though it had been less than an hour since they left Equestria behind, Celestia felt compelled to flare her horn just to make sure her magic was still strong.

It wasn’t in preparation of a fight; she honestly assumed the tribes would be cooperative enough. It was a seed of doubt she couldn’t locate the source of. Perhaps she just needed a nap, despite it barely being past high noon.

The hours disappeared at an alarming rate. Each time they stopped for a break, the hills were more dry and desolate than the last time, and soil turned to rock. The ponies shared gamely with her of their supplies, Twilight pointing out that it would be the simplest thing for Celestia or Twilight to employ a spell to find water or something edible. In the case there was nothing to be found, Twilight had researched a few magical means to tide them over until their environment was more friendly. It was for this reason, Celestia gathered, Twilight had opted to emphasize tents and clothes over foodstuffs.

Twilight had done her prep-work, and it was humbling to see. Finally they settled down for the night, the five ponies sitting in an awkward circle around a small magical fire in the shadow of a small hill. Celestia was gratefully munching on a slightly stale sweetroll offered by Pinkie Pie, thinking about how she herself could run a small nation but not pack her own lunch, when she noticed Rainbow Dash was staring at her. She put out of her mind the question of where she would sleep and met her gaze.

“Rainbow, quit it,” Twilight hissed.

“How do you know they’re still alive?” the pegasus asked.

A collective sigh went over their little camp. Rarity rolled her eyes and looked away, evidently no longer hungry judging by the way she magically tossed the pear she was nibbling over her shoulder. Twilight clenched her jaw and closed her eyes, and even Pinkie Pie seemed put off, licking her lips nervously.

“That’s rather a distasteful topic,” Rarity said. “What I’ve been trying to say is that we can’t—”

“I know!” Dash snapped, the pegasus flexing her wings as she cast a glare towards the unicorn. “I know they’re okay because they have to be, and I don’t care what you say, I just—I need to really know. You’re here because you know they’re alive, right?” she asked. Those rose eyes stared straight at the princess, unwavering.

Celestia rolled her neck as she gathered her thoughts. When she spoke, it was in a careful and deliberate tone. “There is no way to know for sure, none that I know. You should have asked my sister, not me. She deals in dreams and prophecies. I am here because I have hope. For me, that is enough. I have no proof for you, Rainbow Dash, but I have left my throne and my nation both because of this. If that is not enough to comfort you, I don’t know what to say.”

“Hope,” Dash repeated, rolling her jaw before setting it in a sullen frown directed at Rarity. “Sure. I guess that’s better than thinking they’re already gone.”

The purple-maned unicorn drew herself up. It was an odd gesture coming from her, perhaps, but it certainly commanded attention.

“Just because I made that one comment, one time, does not mean I am ready to give up!” Rarity spat. She was glowering, her entire body shaking as she rose to stand. In the flickering light of the campfire, her eyes glistened with wet. “And it does not make me a lesser friend if it hurts so much sometimes—” she continued, her voice cracking. “—that I cannot stand the idea that I should wake up wondering where they are for the rest of my life!”

Rainbow Dash seemed content to make no reply, barely even reacting to the torrent of angry words. She looked almost bored, disaffected as she shrugged.

“Girls, please,” Twilight tried.

“Can we go back to being friends now?” Pinkie Pie asked, a simple question that received about as much attention as a whisper in a storm. Rainbow Dash rose to stand and turned away, and Rarity growled.

“Don’t you turn your back—”

“Ladies!” Celestia snapped.

It was an uncomfortable thing, to raise her voice to those she considered her friends. To be a princess rather than a pony, even if for a moment, but Rainbow Dash did sit down again, and Rarity shut up. Pinkie Pie nestled her own snout in the coat of her neck, and Celestia didn’t even dare to look at Twilight.

“Even if you all want your friends—our friends—back, everypony here has their own way of expressing that,” Celestia continued, trying her best to smile. “Do not let it get between you, please. If you truly believed them gone, none of you would be here,” she said, locking eyes with Rainbow Dash for a brief instant. “I don’t know what guides each of you, but hold on to that. Let it be strength, not weakness.”

“If we start quarreling and break apart, then we’ve nothing left,” Twilight added. “I don’t want to lose five friends instead of two, even for one night. Please.”

Rainbow Dash closed her eyes and hung her head. Though her tongue hung out in a childish display of petulance, the way her wings sagged told the tale well. “Sorry,” she muttered.

“That’s quite alright,” Rarity replied, her tone light and airy as she drug a foreleg over her eyes. “Water under the bridge, as it were,” she added, cut off when Pinkie Pie threw a foreleg around her withers and Dash’s both, joining them in a crushing hug.

Celestia chuckled as the minor spectacle that ensued. Her work done for the moment, she rose and walked a small ways off. Their campsite was well shielded from what little wind there was by a small cliff, but otherwise, the evening was clear and the landscape open to her as far as the eye could see. Far off back home, her sister had just raised the moon, and the crickets had taken up their song. It was rare and beautiful to get to see Luna’s night so pure and untainted by the city lights. Part of her wanted to see if she could think of a song for the occasion, but mostly, she just wanted to sleep.

It was an impulse that had been there all day. Sleep. Not just the sleep of the tired, but that of the weary. The more she considered Twilight’s theory, the less she believed it. She didn’t really need a break. As much as she enjoyed the first new impulses she’d had in a long time, and though she relished getting to spend some time with the Elements, she would have gone crazy centuries ago if she couldn’t manage matters of statecraft in a manner that gave her joy. If she ever needed a rest, she would’ve had to take it sometime before, in the past thousand years.

Yet, her eyelids and her ears undeniably drooped. She didn’t hear Twilight approach and take up position next to her so much as she felt it. Felt one of the very few ponies close by like candles in the dark.

“Thank you,” Twilight said. “And I’m sorry.”

Celestia blinked to clear her eyes before she looked down upon Twilight. “I am not sure what you are apologizing for, nor what you thank me for,” she said, a white little lie.

Twilight gave a little giggle. A year ago, she would never have made light of Celestia’s words. Perhaps there was hope, then. Celestia’s smile grew.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Twilight admitted. “Pinkie Pie is holding up okay, I think, and Rarity is, too. Well, kind of,” she amended.

“As well as can be expected?” Celestia offered with a sympathetic sigh.

“Yeah. But Rainbow Dash, I don’t know what she’s doing. I worry about her.”

“She is the Element of Loyalty. This must be especially hard on her,” Celestia suggested. “But then, you could make the case for each of you. I don’t know what to say, Twilight. Take care of each other.”

Twilight nodded glumly. Together they sat under the moon’s soft glow, in the shadow of the rocks on the arid soil of the low hills. Celestia liked to think it was a comfortable silence.

“Have you ever loved somepony before?” Twilight asked.

Celestia arched a brow rather than admit surprise. It was a fair question, of course. Twilight had her face set in a very specific frown, the creases intimately familiar to Celestia. She looked just like she did whenever Celestia had set a hard task in front of her, and the unicorn was employing her considerable mental faculties to solve it. Except now, Celestia herself was the problem. The princess poked her cheek with her tongue.

“I mean, if you think there could be an us,” Twilight explained, powering on despite the growing blush on her cheeks. “I think I deserve to know. Not that it really matters, and I guess you have since you’re so old—”

Twilight closed her eyes and swallowed. “Okay, that came out wrong.”

Celestia laughed, all the tension draining from her before it could even set. “Twilight, please. You don’t need to justify your questions. Curiosity alone is enough, and that’s just one of the things that make you special.”

The unicorn at her side swallowed, her cheeks still stained with red.

“The simple answer is no. I have had apprentices before, of course. I don’t know if that disappoints you?”

“No!” Twilight said. “I mean, of course you have, I just wondered if there had been somepony else, somepony special, because, well,” she paused, drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Celestia had half a mind to move a little closer, to try to comfort the clearly distressed pony, but it was hard to decide what would be too forward.

“I want to know who I’m going to be compared to. You’re a very important pony, and you mean a lot to me, you always have,” Twilight said.

It was clear Twilight was forcing herself not to look away. The last sentence lingered. Celestia nodded very carefully.

“I understand you’re trying not to, uh, pressure,” Twilight continued. “It’s just hard not to make a big deal of it.”

Celestia nodded once more. “And the fact that you are thinking this through speaks well of you, but please understand, I’m not asking you to do anything. Nothing specific. I just—”

“You want to know what I think,” Twilight blurted, interrupting her. “I know. I’m trying to figure that out. Sorry.”

Celestia sighed and slowly got up. In one smooth movement, she shifted over to sit right next to Twilight, leaning slightly against her. After a moment’s hesitation, Twilight leaned back, and they sat side to side. Somewhere, far off behind them, Celestia swore she heard a small gasp, but she ignored it.

“Don’t apologize. Please,” Celestia said, lowering her voice. “And to answer your first question? No, I’ve never felt this way before. Not quite like this.”

“Then how can you know?” Twilight asked. One simple question that might have nailed her to the wall had Celestia not been so sure of exactly what she felt. One day, perhaps, she could answer the question in full. How she’d felt this growing for so long. How, when her student had come into her own, a full grown mare with her own set of quirks and traits, she had known.

“Because when you have seen as many ponies as I have, you learn a lot about different types of love. You also know something unique when you see it. I could go on, but I think it would embarrass you,” she said with a little voiceless chuckle.

“And the ‘something’ that wasn’t quite like this?” Twilight asked after a moment’s pause.

“I’ve been loved. Again, many types of love, but one truly loved me,” Celestia said. She extended a wing and drew Twilight a little closer. It was either that or draw away. Some memories stuck more easily than others.

“What happened?” Twilight asked again. Any other pony, and Celestia would’ve considered not answering, but the purity of the question was absolute. Twilight looked up at her with big violet eyes, and she knew then that when she had fallen in love with the young unicorn, she also gave up any chance of ever denying her.

“I did not love him back,” Celestia replied. “He made a very bad decision, and I did not stop him.”

Before Twilight could press further, Celestia got up and furled her wings. The weariness had returned tenfold, a weight she had never felt before.

“Maybe I’ll tell you later,” Celestia sighed. “Please.”

Twilight said nothing. Rather, the unicorn stepped up to her and hugged her. Both forelegs securely wrapped around her neck, Twilight held on to her. They had hugged many times before, but this felt different. Ever since Celestia had admitted how she felt, Twilight had been distant, reluctant. The touch was a balm unlike anything else, and Celestia barely had the presence of mind to return the hug before it was over.

Making her way back to the camp proper seemed to take ages. Her body felt heavy, and her legs clumsy. She sat down by the campfire intending to take a breather before asking whether she should share somepony’s tent when the first wave of dizziness hit her. Suddenly, all she wanted was to lay down and rest, and so she did.

“Princess? Are you going to sleep there?”

The voice was disembodied. It was impossible to tell who had spoken. She meant to shift, to get more comfortable, but it was far, far too much effort. Celestia opened her mouth to say something, but it came out a murmur.

“Um, Twilight? Princess Celestia’s looking like she has an owie or two. Or ten. Twilight? Twilight!”

A second voice. A hoof gently touched her face, and then she was gone.

Comments

[Aotrs Commander]

Okay, you ARE going there, and Things Are Afoot as well!

Really, the only thing I can think of to say at this point is HUZZAH!!!!

[Makokam]

Theory: Celestia has lost her immortality, and is starting to feel her years. Or is just not used to feeling exhaustion like mortal pony would. Or she's just straight up dying being so far from...the...source of her power? -shrug-

Very good chapter though. Unlike some of the others, this didn't feel like it could/should have been combined with the previous one. It had a very good starting and ending point.

...what? Do I still need to point out your writing is awesome?

[Alondro]

And then the Princess' flesh withered and turned to dust before their eyes, and naught remained buy bleached bones and a cracked horn...

(grimdark version)

[JAG]

Hm. Weakening Harmony, maybe? The Elements' separation took down the original alicorns, so maybe the same thing is causing Celestia's exhaustion. That's the theory I'll go with for now.

Also, one-sided Dislestia? I'm guessing that's the former romance Celestia referred to. Which works, I guess, as long as it stays ancient history. Not really a fan of 'modern' Dislestia. I don't think that'll be happening here, though.

[KittyCatOmaniac]

"Princess Celestia has joined the party."
*Dah-da-da-da-daaah-da-da-dah-da-daaah~!*

[PresentPerfect]

Princess Celestia of Equestria stepped across the garish painted line denoting the border of her country. Nothing happened, save a sigh of relief from the two ponies who had feared something might.

Ten lengths out, when the smaller members of her company looked more like ants than ponies to those watching, and Luna was chewing over the thought that the pony she had commissioned to survey the borders of their nation had later been run out of government for slipshod inspection practices, Celestia reached the actual edge of Equestria and disappeared with a "fwoomp" and a cloud of feathers and smoke.

Luna blinked. She turned to the open-mouthed unicorn guard at her side.

"We shall require another sister," she said matter-of-factly.