Habits of the Equestrian Phoenix

by Amber Spark


Felonious Felicitous Fellowships

“This is all your fault,” Sunset growled at Philomena.
The phoenix huffed and turned her back on Sunset, which suited Sunset just fine.
They’d been sitting in Celestia’s study for little over an hour now. Normally, Sunset would have been reading in a situation such as this. After all, Celestia’s private study was probably one of her favorite places in all of Equestria. But, at the moment, the idea of going through any of Celestia’s books didn’t seem all that appealing.
“Moon Dancer is never going to let me live this down,” Sunset groaned as she buried her face in a pillow on the floor. “And it’ll take about fifteen seconds for her to tell everypony else and I’ll be hearing about this for months.”
She was exhausted. Her body ached from the workout she’d given it by galloping through half the castle. Even her magic hurt a little to use, showing that once again, she’d overcharged her spell and drawn too much power from the sun.
I really need to get better at that, Sunset thought. One of these days, I’ll probably need the precision.
Oh yeah, and half of her tail was gone. Every time she looked at her tail, she was tempted to dump the bowl of water in the corner onto that damn bird.
But she was pretty sure starting a water fight in Celestia’s study was a bad call.
“Why do you pick on me so much, anyway?” Sunset demanded, not for the first time.
Philomena, as she had every other time, ignored her.
Sunset growled again, but didn’t pursue the issue any further. Not much point. Philomena wasn’t the best of conversationalists even on a good day.
She stared at the hourglass on the table as the grains of sand hissed steadily, dropping into the lower bulb. She wasn’t about to complain on how long the Princess was taking. Today, the Princess was mediating a session between Diamond Dogs and the Buffalo tribes about a recent border skirmish between the two races.
Of all the days that bird decides to be a terrible little… ugh... troll… she picks a day when the Princess is in sensitive diplomatic talks.
Philomena perked up. Sunset immediately craned her ears, listening carefully to the hoofsteps that could only belong to one pony. Her suspicions were confirmed a few moments later when golden magic wrapped around the doors.
When they swung open, Celestia was there.
Her face was completely impassive. It could have been carved from stone. She took a few steps inside, turned, nodded to the exhausted-looking stallion who had held the shield and closed the doors behind her.
Sunset opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She shared a glance with Philomena. Philomena didn’t look much better than Sunset felt at the moment.
“I believe I informed you about my itinerary for the day, Sunset Shimmer,” Princess Celestia said, not moving from her spot by the door. “Did you forget that I was to be in the middle of negotiations between two races with a rather unfriendly history?”
“No, Princess,” Sunset squeaked, hating her voice and her inability to do anything about it. “I didn’t forget.”
“And yet, I receive a message from Raven shortly after negotiations are concluded that there has been a… shall we say… fracas throughout the castle involving my pet phoenix and my prized pupil. I find this most interesting.”
Sunset stared at her hooves, but forced herself not to slump to the floor, even though she could still feel the cool gaze of Celestia upon her.
“I must say… I’m quite disappointed in you.”
Those words were like a buck to the chest and Sunset felt a claw of ice wrap around her heart. She’d heard it in plays and read it in stories before… but disappointment really was so much worse than anger.
“After all, young lady, I asked you to befriend Sunset, not antagonize her.”
Sunset blinked and her head shot up.
Celestia wasn’t looking at her.
She was looking at the bird.
And the bird was practically hiding behind her wing, looking for all the world like a filly who had gotten caught with her hoof in the cookie jar. How a phoenix pulled off this particular look, Sunset had no idea, but it was the best analogy she could come up with.
Celestia sighed, trotted over to the largest pillow in the study and settled herself down.
“I must apologize, Sunset,” Celestia said, her eyes never leaving her pet. “I know you and Philomena have never truly gotten along. So, as I was occupied for most of the day, I asked Philomena to spend some time with you. The goal was to help the two of you form a bond. After all, you have quite a lot in common.”
“Princess?” Sunset asked, a dozen questions contained within one word.
“Oh stop it, Sunset.” Celestia rolled her eyes. “You’re not about to be flogged. Come over here and sit beside me.”
Sunset slowly and carefully crept toward the Princess, but now a small smile graced Celestia’s lips instead of that horrifyingly stoney expression she’d worn before. Celestia nodded toward the pillow closest to her. It still took some effort, but Sunset managed to get herself to sit down beside the Princess. To Sunset’s surprise, the Princess wrapped one of her great white wings around her.
It’s been a while since she’s done that…
“Settle yourself,” the Princess said gently. “While it would have been nice if you hadn’t decided to go racing through the hallways of the castle, no harm was done, despite what Blueblood claims.”
“Blueblood?” Sunset sputtered. “What does he have to do with this?”
Celestia’s smile grew. “You didn’t even notice him, did you?”
Sunset shook her head.
“When you passed through the hallway on the south side overlooking the castle foyer, you apparently upset one of the servants returning with a refilled water dish for Philomena. The servant spilled the water over the edge. It just so happened my ‘nephew’ was, shall we say, ‘in the line of fire?’”
Sunset couldn’t help herself. She dissolved into giggles, hating the fact that she hadn’t been able to see that stuck-up mule get doused with freezing water. Celestia joined in with a chuckle.
Sunset opened her mouth to ask a question, but Celestia cut her off.
“No, I still won’t explain ‘The Blueblood Mystery,’ as you call it.”
“Aww,” Sunset pouted.
They both chuckled just a little bit more.
Sunset forgot how much she enjoyed spending time just being with the Princess. There was such comfort and strength in her wings. It was almost more relaxing than a good book in the garden.
Almost.
“I’m sorry about today, Sunset. I know the last few weeks have been very long for you,” Celestia admitted after a long silence. “And while I can’t give you the relaxing day you wanted… tell me… did you have fun?”
Sunset turned her eyes toward Philomena, who was still cowering behind a wing. For a second, Sunset saw the phoenix peeking over the wing, her expression unreadable.
She surprised herself with her answer.
“Yeah. Actually, I did,” Sunset admitted. “Even if Philomena was being a little brat.”
“Mischievous little Philomena has learned some bad habits from me over the years,” Celestia confessed. “Though in truth I may have also learned a few things from her. She is not entirely to blame. Only mostly.”
Philomena’s head ducked back behind her wing once more.
“Stop pouting, Philomena. Come over here and say you’re sorry.”
Philomena didn’t move.
“Philomena?” Celestia said in a voice that would have sent courtiers and servants scattering. “Come here.”
The bird still didn’t move.
Celestia let out something that sounded like a long-suffering sigh. Finally, she leaned down and whispered something in Sunset’s ear. Something that Sunset couldn’t quite believe.
“Are you sure, Princess?”
Celestia nodded.
“Well, I can’t refuse a royal order, can I?” Sunset said in her best attempt at a serious tone. She managed to stifle the giggle as she cast the spell.
“Last chance, Philomena. Apologize.”
The bird huffed.
“It’s on your head then,” Celestia said with a shrug.
The bird caught sight of it a second too late as the water dish Sunset held in her magic suddenly upended itself atop Philomena’s head. The phoenix sputtered and squawked indignantly as once again, her magic fire vanished under the deluge. The Princess provided another spell to prevent even a single drop of water from hitting the floor, the books, or anything else of importance in the study.
Both Sunset and Celestia watched the soaked bird as it glowered at the two of them for a good minute before her fire magic once again ignited. The phoenix instantly took flight. For a moment, Sunset was worried about some sort of retaliation. Instead, Philomena just landed in front of Sunset and bowed her head.
Sunset couldn’t help herself. She laughed.
“Okay,” Sunset sighed. “I forgive you. Though I’m still not happy with you setting my tail on fire.”
Philomena squawked in protest, putting her wings on her sides.
“She said next time, you shouldn’t startle a phoenix in flight,” Celestia commented dryly.
Sunset rolled her eyes and met the phoenix’s gaze, wondering just what to do about the bird. In the end though… there was only one thing she could do.
“Why don’t we call it even?” Sunset offered.
To Sunset’s surprise, Philomena nodded emphatically.
“Well, I’m glad that’s taken care of!” Celestia declared. “Because that brings us to your punishments.”
Sunset blinked and glanced up at the Princess. “Punishments? Plural?”
“Oh yes,” Celestia said with a nod. “Since both of you seemed to enjoy taking on the entire Royal Guard, who spent the better part of fifteen minutes chasing you, I’ve decided that both of you will be training with them three times a week to help improve castle security.”
Sunset stared at the Princess.
“You’re serious aren’t you?”
“Quite.”
Sunset looked at Philomena.
Philomena looked at Sunset.
“Fine,” Sunset said, knowing she was speaking for the both of them. “You win.”
“Wonderful! You start an hour before dawn tomorrow.”
Sunset knew better than to protest that little detail.
“And there’s one more thing,” Celestia said as her horn burned with golden magic and she lifted something out of one of Sunset’s saddlebags by the balcony doors. “I would like you to start a new research project. It has come to my attention there’s an area of study that seems to have a few holes in its knowledge base.”
“And what’s that, Princess?” Sunset asked warily.
Celestia’s levitation field dropped and a book fell between Philomena and Sunset.
Sunset glanced at it and barely stopped herself from facehoofing.
“I’d like your thoughts on an appendix or perhaps even a new version of Habits of the Equestrian Phoenix by the end of the month. Philomena here will be your direct source and assistant. So, as the two of you will be working closely on this project, I expect you two to play nice.”
Once again, Sunset exchanged gazes with the bird. For once, she knew exactly what Philomena was thinking.
After all, it wasn’t like they had many options.
“I think we might be able to do that.”
“I’m delighted to hear that,” Celestia said. “Though I admit if I had gotten this notice during the negotiations, I would have been rather more annoyed.”
“You would have?” Sunset asked, forcing her voice not to squeak this time.
“Indeed. In fact, I likely would not have done this, if that had been the case.”
There was a flare of magic behind Sunset and when Celestia retracted her wing, Sunset was thrilled to see her tail whole once more. She smiled at the Princess, who just winked at her in return.
“So, I’d like to propose new rules of engagement between the two of you,” Celestia declared. “Philomena, no more burning off my student’s tail.”
The bird saluted and Sunset couldn’t help but giggle.
“Sunset, no more dropping bowls of water on my phoenix.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Until further notice, only I’m allowed to do that.”
Sunset blinked and looked up at the same time as Philomena.
Two globes of water hung above their heads.
Sunset sighed.
Philomena sighed.
And the icy water doused the both of them.