Nothing Without Me

by chillbook1


Nothing Without Me

“So… That's no on the tarts?” asked Celestia.

Raven Inkwell truly did appreciate how lucky of a mare she was. As Celestia’s personal assistant and Royal Adviser, she had what would be considered the best job in all of Equestria. Being a member of castle staff, she was automatically invited to the most exclusive Canterlot parties, not to mention VIP passes to any and all events in Equestria upon request. Her paycheck allowed for quite comfortable living, more than enough to support her frugal, practical lifestyle. She had the best insurance the kingdom could offer, and access to the royal physician, who was the best doctor in all of Equestria. All in all, Raven Inkwell was about as lucky as she could be, and she really was thankful for her blessings.

That didn’t change the fact that she absolutely despised her job.

“Princess, we’ve talked about this,” sighed Raven, trying not to let her frustrations show. “It’s just not in the budget. What you’re requesting is far more than what we’ve allotted for catering.”

“But the guests would love it,” said Celestia. She frowned slightly, inspecting the list Raven provided her with. “Are you certain there's nothing we can do?”

Raven sighed again, trying to find a way to word the situation that would make the princess understand.

“Princess, I understand that the guests would enjoy it, but there's simply no money for it,” explained Raven, for what must've been the thousandth time. “And, while the guests will indeed enjoy the desserts, they will enjoy the lower taxes and national debt a touch more.”

“Hm. Shame… I will have to see if Pinkie Pie can't help us reach some sort of compromise.”

Raven ticked that item off of her list. This was a victory, as far as she was concerned. Time to move on to the actually difficult parts of the day.

“I'll be sure to send a letter right over,” said Raven, though she would need to ask somepony what exactly a Pinkie Pie was. “Now, onto more pressing matters… Your speech. I take it you have your first draft prepared?”

“Actually, Raven, I'm glad you brought that up.” Celestia rose from her throne and began pacing. “I've never been a fan of speeches, writing or giving them. So, I was thinking… perhaps I can skip it this time around?”

Raven felt her eye twitch uncontrollably upon hearing such lunacy.

“Absolutely not. It's out of the question. This is the largest fundraiser of the year! To not give a speech… It's unthinkable.”

“But must I really write a speech? No matter what I write, it seems that the editors change it so that it is unrecognizable as what I wanted to say!”

Maybe if you weren't such a crazy old mare, we wouldn't have to change as much.

This was something that Raven wanted to say, but, for obvious reasons, couldn't. Most ponies wouldn't dare saying such things to their boss, and most ponies weren't employed by a goddess who could very easily banish them to space. So, in the interest of keeping both her job and her life, Raven had learned to keep statements like those to herself.

“I understand your frustrations, your majesty. Being censored… it's a necessary evil in regards to somepony with as much power and influence as yourself,” said Raven. She actually did sympathize with Celestia. She hated not being able to say what was on her mind. “But you must consider the weight of your words. One wrong sentence can derail your entire administration. You have to be careful.”

“But caution is so… so dead. The speeches you give me are always so stilted and lifeless,” complained Celestia. “Would it kill the writing team to give these things even a little bit of color?”

As the entirety of the writing “team” that Celestia referred to, Raven couldn't help but be a bit annoyed by that comment. Raven never claimed that the speeches she wrote were award-winning novels, but they were certainly good, and they served their purpose well.

“I will personally make sure that your speech has ‘a bit of color’, your majesty,” said Raven. “All you have to concern yourself with is reading it.”

“Hm… Fine. What's next?” asked the princess. Raven referred back to her list, ticking “The Speech” off of her to-do list.

“Next up is… Lunch break. The kitchen staff is ready for you in the dining hall. You may depart at your leisure, your highness.”

“Yes, of course. Oh, one thing,” said Celestia. “I would like to enjoy lunch with my sister. Would you kindly summon her to the dining hall?”

Shit.

Raven smiled, despite what she really felt. If she thought her day was rough before, she would need a new word to describe it after this. Still, it was part of Raven’s job to maintain a certain facade, so she couldn't exactly voice her concerns.

“Of course, your majesty,” said Raven through gritted teeth. “Right away.”


Raven stood before Luna’s bedchamber with true dread in her heart. Luna was, understandably, not a morning person. And, while she didn't exactly beam out a sunny disposition during the night hours, she was downright terrifying when woken prematurely. Luna’s wrath could turn mortals to stone. Her Royal Canterlot Voice could shatter a mare's will. A single icy glare from the Lunar Princess could stop the heart of any unlucky soul caught on the other end of her gaze.

Celestia didn't seem to appreciate that fact, seeing as she effectively sacrificed Raven to the Princess of the Night.

“Okay, Raven,” she muttered to herself. “She's not a demon. She's not the Nightmare. She's your beloved princess, damn it, she won't hurt you.” Raven decided that if she said it to herself enough, maybe it would turn out to be true. She took in a deep breath, then knocked firmly on the massive bedchamber doors.

The following sixty seconds of silence were the most terrifying moments in Raven’s recent memory.

“P-princess?” Raven knocked again, with equally underwhelming results. “Y-your sister would like to…”

The doors creaked open, a gust of wind rushing through the crack. Raven couldn’t see two feet in front of her, due to the perfect pitch-blackness of the room. It was like looking at the night’s sky with no stars to illuminate the ceaseless shadows. A wave of frigid cold breezed out of the darkness, inciting a shiver down Raven’s spine.

“Princess Luna?” said Raven weakly. “Are you… awake?”

Why hath thou interrupted Our slumber?

The voice was but a whisper, yet it was more terrifying than any mare or stallion’s shout. It slithered out of the depths of the room, bringing with it an air of cold regality that immediately invalidated any and all of Raven’s dignity and courage. This was far worse than the Royal Canterlot voice.

“P-princess Celestia r-requested your presence,” stammered Raven. “F-for lunch…”

Doth thou not know the importance of Our sleep? We have punished mares for lesser offenses before…

“Your majesty, p-please forgive me, but your sister—”

Sister dearest sent thee?

“Yes, your majesty,” said Raven, regaining some of her backbone. “She wants you for—”

And who art thou, intruding upon Our sacred slumber on behalf of Our dear sister?

“Raven Inkwell…”

Silence reigned for a minute, then two, until Raven was tempted to call it quits and return to Celestia. Just as Raven was about to turn and leave, Luna’s voice slithered out of the dark once again.

Enter, Raven Inkwell…

Raven really, truly, honestly didn’t want to, but she also didn’t have much choice. She pushed her fear to the back of her mind, took in a deep breath, then ventured into the dark. The doors slammed shut as soon as Raven cleared the threshold, which elicited a squeak of fear from the royal advisor.

“Princess Luna?” Raven stepped deeper into the dark, stumbling blindly through the shadow. “I can’t see a thing…”

There was a bright, glaring flash, the dozen or so lanterns strung up around the room illuminated themselves. Raven had to blink the brightness away for a bit before her vision returned, and it did so slowly and in patches. When she finally could see again, part of her wished she couldn’t. Laying in a large, ornate four poster bed was the embodiment of the Night and all of its majesty. The personification of cold beauty and grace and unwavering, unflinching perfection.

Her hair was also an absolute mess, tangled and frizzy due to her restless sleeping.

“What time is it, Raven Inkwell?” The way Luna spoke made it seem like less of a question and more of a demand for information.

“Erm… Half past noon, your grace,” said Raven after consulting her watch momentarily.

“Across from Our bed is a shrunken preservation box,” said Luna. “Within it, you will find a trinity of elixirs that will reinvigorate and bolster one’s energy. Bring them to me.”

Raven’s archaic Equine was a bit rusty, so it took her a moment to put together what exactly it was that Luna was asking her for. She broke it down piece by piece, starting with the “across from the bed” part, which was easy enough.

“Um… You mean this mini-fridge?” asked Raven. She opened the “shrunken preservation box” and grabbed the “trinity of elixirs”, which turned out to be energy drinks. She brought them over to Luna who immediately grabbed all three in her magic, popped open the cans, and chugged them all at once.

“Er… Your majesty?” said Raven cautiously. “That really isn’t healthy for you. I think you should…”

“Listen, Raven, I’ve been drinking these things three at a time ever since they were invented,” said Luna, her archaic speech pattern gone now that she wasn’t half asleep. “And, as you can tell, I’m still breathing. So I wouldn’t worry about me.”

“Of course. Apologies.”

“You can go now. Tell Celestia I’ll be down in five minutes.”

“Yes, your highness. Right away,” said Raven. She then proceeded to rush out of the bedchamber as quickly as Equinely possible.

“Alright, Raven, check ‘dance with certain demise’ off of your checklist,” sighed Raven as she trotted down the massive corridor of Canterlot Castle’s East Tower. “What’s next on the agenda?”

Her stomach gave an audible, angry growl, tired of being ignored for as long as it had been.

“Lunch. Lunch is next on the agenda.”


Raven wasn't the most sociable of mares, no doubt due to her occupation. With the difficulties of dealing with the princesses, Raven had little energy to spare on others. She had a bit of a temper, which was quick to turn a lot of people away, but that was fine by her. By the time lunch came around, Raven didn’t feel like talking to most people anyway. She was more than content to sit in the corner of the staff mess hall and pick at her salad until it was time to return to work. Today was no different, with Raven sitting alone and looking over her lists in her rare hour of free time.

“This seat taken?”

Raven looked up from her lists to see a grinning, golden-feathered face. The griffon held a bag lunch in his claws, having no choice but to bring his lunch from home. Due to him being massively outnumbered, species-wise, he couldn't exactly expect the cafeteria staff to cater to his particular diet.

“Hey, Garrus,” said Raven tiredly. Garrus chuckled a bit at Raven’s expense and took a seat across from her.

“How's your day been so far?” he asked, unpacking his lunch. Most ponies would have their appetites ruined by Garrus’s lunch, but Raven had long since gotten used to the smell of cooked rodent.

“One day, you're going to ask me that question and I'm going to just start laughing hysterically,” said Raven flatly. “At which point you'll turn around to see the entire castle is on fire.”

“Heh. One of those days, eh?”

Every day is ‘one of those days’, Gary,” complained Raven. She turned her list over and started jotting down notes for Celestia’s speech. “My whole life is ‘one of those days’. And every day, I get one more ‘one of those days’ closer to a mental break.”

“What's eating you today?”

“Tarts, my apparently boring writing, and a trinity of elixirs that will reinvigorate and bolster one’s energy.” Raven checked her watch, swearing at the time. “Damn, I've gotta go. When's your shift over?”

“Ten,” said Garrus, chewing on a bone.

“Great. I’ll bitch more to you at the bar. You're buying drinks tonight.”

“Why is it always my turn to buy drinks?” Raven smirked as she gathered her things to go.

“Because you never actually buy drinks,” she said. Garrus chuckled, nodding his head as he did.

“Oh, yeah. Right. Well, tonight's the night,” promised Garrus. “See you around, Rave.”

“Later, Gary.” Raven adjusted her glasses, then set off to return to her princess’ side. Despite how irritated Raven was with the day so far, she was actually smiling as she left the mess hall. Garrus had successfully raised her spirits, at least for the time being. She knew it wouldn't last, though.

There was still plenty of time for life to get on her nerves.


“So she wanted to blow the whole catering budget on what, exactly?” asked Garrus.

“Some Saddle Arabian pastry chef,” sighed Raven. “And he charges out the ass because of travel expenses and to pay for his gourmet ingredients or something. Whatever the reasoning for the price, he’s asking for way more than we’ve allocated for food. The princess seems to struggle to understand that.”

Raven didn’t have much to look forward to in her day, but she was always glad to be able to go out for a night at the bar with her friend. After work, Raven could almost always be found at the dark, almost-hidden Canterlot tavern, Scoundrels, Vagabonds, and Ne’er-Do-Wells. It wasn’t a very well-known or reputable bar, but that’s just how Raven and Garrus liked it. Drinking at a more popular, upper-class bar ran the risk of them being recognized from work and pestered by their coworkers when all they really wanted to do was have a nice drink and complain about their jobs.

They sat at their usual spot in the tavern, a quiet table near the back. Raven liked it there because she could talk without losing her voice in the bustle of the bar, and there was always room to toss her saddlebags without fear of somepony stepping all over them. It was, as usual, one of the only highlights of her day.

“Geez. Sounds rough,” said Garrus, taking a swig from his flagon. “So what’d you tell her?”

“I told her that the money just does not exist, and she muttered something about some type of pie. Something about a compromise. After that, I just sorta moved on. We talked about her speeches, and she complained about how much I edit them.” Raven drained her beer and pushed it to the side, ready for another. “Which, you should know, is entirely her fault. Every time I let her write her own speeches, I end up with insane ramblings and twisted riddles that make her seem like a senile old bat.”

“Yikes. That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?” said Garrus. “That’s your princess you’re talking about.”

“I swear to the Goddess above, she’s barely functioning! It’s a miracle she hasn’t driven the country into the ground yet.” Raven waved to the barmaid, who quickly came over to them and refilled their drinks. “If she didn’t have an advisor, we’d be doomed. That’s why I’ve never taken a sick day, the kingdom would crumble without me.”

“I don’t doubt it,” chuckled Garrus. “Celestia, hell, Equestria itself… They’re nothing without you.”

“Heh. Nothing without me. You’ve got that right.” Raven gave a rare grin at her friend, who returned it in full force. “Anyway, how’s things with you? The guards treating you well?”

“Can’t complain. The guys are still kinda weirded out to be working with me,” said Garrus. “Most of em haven’t met a griffon before. They’re nice enough, but they can come off as kinda insensitive. Can’t blame them much, though. I get the same way with you ponies.”

“How different can it be? You were a guard in Griffonstone, right? A castle is a castle is a castle.”

“It’s just… different. Our armor is different.” Garrus raised his claws up for Raven to see. “Griffon armor doesn’t cover our claws, so we can use them to fight if we needed to. But you guys cover all four of your hooves. And there’s not pellet receptacles every three feet.”

“Pellet receptacles?”

“Yeah, for the bones. We griffons eat our food whole, bones and all,” explained Garrus. “We can't digest them, so they gotta come up eventually. So we cough them up into these little buckets they keep around the castle.”

“Ew. That sounds disgusting,” gagged Raven. “That's just a thing you do? Why not just spit out the bones?”

“How come you weirdos don't just eat meat? If this is the price I have to pay for some protein, then so be it.”

“Yeah, I get the guards now. Griffons are a disgusting species.”

“As a matter of fact, I think I've got one to come out now.” Garrus fake coughed and hacked, doing little more than grossing out his friend. “Heheh. You ponies and your weak stomachs. Anywho, we were…” Garrus trailed off, looking past Raven to the entrance of the bar. “Who's the looker over there?”

Raven turned, watching the mare in question walk into the tavern and take a seat at the bar. She was a unicorn, her coat midnight blue. Her royal purple mane was short, slicked up and back. She had her back to Raven, so her eyes were hidden, but Raven could easily see her Cutie Mark; the starry depiction of the Libra constellation hinting at a background in astronomy.

“I dunno. Never seen her before,” said Raven. “She doesn't work at the castle.”

“I'm gonna go talk to her,” said Garrus confidently. “I’ll be right back.”

“Wait, what are you…” Raven trailed off, her friend already out of earshot. She rolled her eyes, watching Garrus with annoyance. She couldn't hear the two converse, but she could guess at what was happening from her seat. She sipped her beer, wishing she had been able to stop Garrus before it was too late. Raven tried not to be too amused as things went poorly for her friend, eventually ending when the mystery mare threw a glass of water in his face

“Nice hustle out there, Casanova,” said Raven.

“Hey, it wasn’t all loss,” said Garrus. “I learned some things from that.”

“Like what?”

“Her name is Moon Shine.”

“Uh-huh…”

“And she doesn't like getting hit on.”

Raven laughed, patting Garrus firmly on the back (even though he was a fierce griffon warrior, he still winced because of Raven’s surprisingly heavy hooves). Garrus chuckled in defeat, sipping his beer weakly.

“Well, I could’ve told you that,” chuckled Raven. “If there’s anypony who knows how to spot a woman who doesn’t like getting hit on, it’s me—a woman who doesn’t like getting hit on.”

“Just get me a towel or something…”

Raven got the barmaid’s attention, then pointed to the sopping-wet, entirely unamused Garrus. The barmaid nodded with a smirk, then came over with a towel for Garrus and a refill for both.

“What exactly did you expect to happen?” asked Raven.

“I was expecting her to give me the time of day,” sighed Garrus, drying his feathers as best as he could. “And, if I was lucky, be impressed when I said I was in the Solar Guard.”

“And?”

“Sorry, I thought my dripping feathers would’ve been enough for you to infer that it didn’t work out too well.”

“Heh. You’ll get ‘em someday, chief,” said Raven. “There’s plenty of fish in the sea. And you’re not too bad looking. You know, as far as griffons go.”

“Gee, thanks,” sighed Garrus. “Can’t help but feel like that’s the problem. You ponies aren’t exactly as interested in griffons as we are of you.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, it probably wouldn’t have worked.” Raven glanced back at Moon Shine, slightly annoyed by her very existence. “True love is a myth, nopony is made for anypony, and we all die alone.”

Garrus looked up from his drink, staring at Raven strangely for a moment as she polished off yet another beer.

“Explain to me how the hell that was supposed to make me feel better?”

“Sorry, did I say ‘better’?” said Raven with a sinister smirk. “I meant ‘unquantifiably, soul-crushingly worse’. Sorry about the mix-up.” Despite the grey, dreary tone of what Raven had said, Garrus found himself grinning.

“Thanks, Rave,” said Garrus, finding his spirits genuinely lifted. Raven shrugged before checking her watch and noting the time.

“It’s getting late, and I need to get some sleep if I’m gonna make it through tomorrow,” sighed Raven. She stood up from the table and slipped her saddlebags on. “See you around, Gary.”

“What’s the bill for the drinks?” asked Gary, digging through his coin purse. “How much do I owe?” Raven glanced at Moon Shine (who hadn’t seemed to notice her or Garrus since the incident), then at the flagons on the table, and finally at Garrus himself before producing a hooful of bits and tossing them onto the table.

“Don’t worry about it, Gary. Drinks are on me tonight,” said Raven. “Night.”

Raven didn’t wait for Garrus to respond or give the money back. She simply trotted across the bar, paused to glare at Moon Shine, and stepped out into the chill of the night.