//------------------------------// // Consequences: Date. // Story: Princess Celestia's Body Double: Setting Stage For Harmony // by JLB //------------------------------// “Oh, come on, you must be joking. Why would you have gone to the Gardens?” Osmosis complained, wiping a sweat of frustration off her temple. “Didn’t you have some serious business to tend to, Celie? “You should know, Osma. Things don’t usually tend to happen the way we expect them to,” Celestia replied after taking a sip of tea. The insectoid mare opposite her bit into a massive strawberry cake that she’d been instructed to dispose of for the Princesses’ lack of stomach to accept such culinary gifts. Despite the Princess’ claims of rust, she did evidently manage to talk sweetly enough to the relevant ponies and the public as to the subject of the early sunrise that she got an enormous cake donated to her by well-wishers. “Besides, you weren’t the only one working over time. My endeavors were pretty fruitful. I didn’t go to the Garden for no reason.” “Really now? That’s very good. I thought about being annoyed with you for a bit, considering I put all the extra effort into forcing this nice stallion to come over here and give you an excuse to spend a few hours in the Gardens,” the cake-mashed green mare replied telepathically, working her jaws extra hard to handle the sheer volumes of puffy confection she had stuffed into her mouth. “Now I can focus on unreservedly enjoying this wonderful cake you’re depriving yourself of.” The shapeshifter chose to ignore the lengthy stare shot at her from across the table, fillling in the pause created by another sip of Celestia’s tea. The alicorn ceased to drill through her shortly anyway, as the ginger and pineapple sandwich she’d taken a bite of sent her whole body ashudder, forcing out a gasp of contentment. “I don’t like cake, Osma. My stomach can only fit so much in. I can hardly afford to weigh myself down right now, in any case. After this long, tiring day that I’ve had, I have to be outside in fifteen minutes and await this ‘nice stallion’ in the Gardens,” she finally said with some played up dismissal. “I hope he’s tardy.” “Pah. Don’t be growchy like that. You never know when fate may strike and you find the piece you’ve been missing your whole life. There is pretty much no way this can go wrong, Celie,” Osmosis retorted, telepathically yet again, since her snout was mostly soft pink at the rate she was burrowing into the cake. That was an accomplishment, considering that the mess she was making was being aborbed straight into her body. “You either find love, or you just have a good time walking around in this impromptu little premature sunset you’ve created this morning.” She had to raise an eyebrow and focus a curious sheer ruby eye at the alicorn, who had begun to chuckle and sigh at what had been said, propping her chin upon a hoof. “You know, it’s a shame I have to be leaving soon. Trust me, this thing you’ve just said sounds a little bit... “ Celestia exhaled slowly, shutting her eyes and rubbing them rigorously. “...freakishly amusing, considering some of the things I got up to today.” “Uh— What do you mean by ‘got up to’ and why does that make what I said amusing? Or freakish? Celie, did you have se—” Osmosis screeched and whimpered, flailing her forehooves in the air, barely remaining sat on her haunches, when the alicorn spat a helping of tea all over her face in a remarkably strong stream. Celestia’s pupils grew to the size of dishes, almost rivalling the insequine’s own plain-color gem-like eyes. The now mostly empty teacup dropped down onto the table, bouncing before managing to land on its bottom. When the green mare managed to right herself again, having wiped what didn’t get absorbed into her body off her snout with a blanket, the Princess had her snout down on the table and was covering herself up with her slipperless forehooves. “...so, I think I shouldn’t finish that sentence then. Or ever mention what I was going to suggest ever again,” Osma guessed. “Yes, please, thank you. I did not need a mental image of me doing THAT with… that’s just wrong. Goodness gracious, Osma, you’re a threat to Equestria’s royalty,” Celestia mumbled from underneath her hooves and sparkly mane. “I will go loopy one day. I’ve held out for hundreds of years with only minor issues, but one day you’ll say something so ridiculous, I’ll simply lose my marbles. I was just going to at least tell you the barest basics of what we managed to find out with Diamond today, but now?..” The alicorn’s loud sigh gradually transitioned into a low giggle. “You know, the worst thing is that I’m acutally finding this funny.” “The mental image?” The shapeshifter scratched the back of her head with a temporarily sharpened hoof, contemplating browsing the upper reaches of Celestia’ thoughts and swiftly deciding against it. “All of this,” the Princess mumbled. “I can’t take what I was going to say seriously anymore… Look, Osma, you’re almost done with the cake, right? If someone walks in while we’re away, it won’t look like I ‘hate’ whoever gave it to me because I ate ‘too little’, will I?” She made weak, lazy air quotes with her forehooves as she spoke, face remaining plastered against the table. “Not really. I ate about half of it, and I even made sure to chew so that it looked like it was cut into pieces first.” “Good. Come over here and lax me up a little, please. I can’t be going on this stupid excuse for a date you’ve set up for me like this,” Celestia asked. “Especially not when you seem to think there isn’t enough wrong with them to not write them out of the list of candidates. Thus meaning I can’t send you there instead of me. Which, trust me, I would enjoy doing.” Osmosis rolled her eyes and blew a gust of air at her mane, though she did obey the face-tabled mare and made her way behind her slumped back. She flexed her neck, primarily for effect. “You’re a charmer, Celie. I’m sure it’ll be love at first sight.” Her hooves slipped around the mare’s neck and she began to gently, carefully, meticulously rub her soft chitin against the mildly frazzled alicorn coat. The nubs on her head glowed warmly, casting a tender tingling feeling through her forehooves and into Celestia’s body proper. A proper relaxation session this was not, what with the receiver slumping face down on a table, but it was good enough. The Princess spread her wings, which were quickly focused on, eliminating any sign of misaligned feathers and other signs of the day’s business. “So… I’ll get into more detail when we get ready to rest for the night, but I guess I’ll let you know the most important parts of today.” Celestia yawned quietly. “You, Osma, are not related to Discord.” “Oh, nice to… know…” the shapeshifter mumbled, blinking absently while her hooves did their work on their own. “I guess you did have a reason to be in the Gardens, then. Sure am looking forward to finding out more.” “And there is, of course, but for now, I’m all but happy to go and receive this pony you’re trying to force into my bed. Goodness knows I’ve talked enough important things today that I’m just about ready to act in character with your goofy bottom once I meet him.” With application of weapons grade restraint, Osmosis reduced her reaction to a loud nasal puff, and did not try to choke her employer. “On that note, do enlighten me why I invited him to visit, what are we going to be doing, and who he is, exactly?” Osma had to remind herself of the relatively tight schedule, looking mournfully at the clock. In the minutes that remained for Celestia to get ready to head out, she relayed the abridged version of today’s visit to one of Canterlot’s promising families. Fortunately for her, it ended up a much more pleasant and much less eventful encounter than her first foray. House Meadowshine was borderline unremarkable, which, along with some other things, was why she chose them. There wasn’t much amazingly historic about them, and ever since rising to their status about two hundred years ago, they remained so. The family trade was also a lot less explosive than that of Osma’s initial tryouts, the Sparklegust family - Meadowshine have been working with plants in one way or another for ages. Gardeners, floral biologists, bouqueteers, even farmers - there was an amazing amount of things you could do with plants, it would seem. And the House was big enough for there to likely be a pony for each relevant job imaginable, as unlike many other Elite families, they were fairly glad to more or less spread themselves thin all over the entire continent. She had good reasons to see about them, of course. All the diversity in family members meant that while her main point of attention would be the Canterlot branch, she could fish out some information about other Meadowshines with potential. The fact that gardeners, biologists and farmers sprung from the same seed, so to say, also meant that there was a chance to raise an heir that could inherit the better traits associated with each occupation. Celestia obviously wanted a Unicorn with impressive magical talent for the role of her protege, but it was clear to Osma that simply picking up an insanely powerful prodigy was going to be no good if they had absolutely no affinity for the vague elements that made Harmony work. Complex magic spells or no complex magic spells, it was the wielding of the Elements that would be the main use of that protege. There was a good reason to look into places that focused on more than just magical talents. Of course, there were also downsides. By far the biggest one was the simple fact that while there was an astounding amount of occupations associated with plantlife, most of them happened to have something to do with raising plants. That meant that, objectively speaking, the fact that the House was barely majority Unicorn was an aberration in and of itself - it was amazing that they weren’t an entirely Earth Pony family. While Osma appreciated the numerous colts and fillies that kept her distracted as she and the masters of the House discussed today’s early sunrise, some plants’ peculiar reactions to it, trivia relating to what Equestria’s solar cycle allowed them to grow that couldn’t grow anywhere else on the planet, things family members were up to, and many other things, there were worrying trends there. She couldn’t help but notice that three out of the masters’ five children were Earth Ponies, and two of the three older cousins staying over in the massive plantation house were apparently Earth just as well, even if she never got meet them. So on and so forth, she arrived at about a sixty-forty split counting up the numerous inhabitants of the large estate. While Earth Ponies did have magic, theirs was a distinctly different type from that of the Unicorn race, and they did indeed need a Unicorn, and they didn’t need them now - they needed them in a few decades. Not the easiest choice to make when so many traits and qualities may just not come with the right extremity. That didn’t bother her too much, because she spent most of her time subtly flirting with multiple stallions at once, inquiring them about flowers she assumed Celestia would like, being fed several particularly exquisite bouquets, and playing around with the kids. This time around, it was difficult to even choose who to try to go after - or, rather, force onto Celestia and see about making them click. At least the ones more... passionate about their love for trees and nature, who had more of a herbalistic inclination, could be ruled out right away. There were many qualities that could attract the complicated soul of the Princess to a stallion, and those were just the ones Osma was sure about. The Meadowshine family provided a lot of wonderful specimens, be it in their colors, complexion, hairstyle, manner of talking, hobbies, attitudes, or… other aspects of complexion. Growing up in a fairly loving family that valued both the sciences and more manual work, they had no chance not to often end up just the right mixture of strong, absent-mindedly charming, disarmingly straightforward, slightly goofy and smart. Eventually, when time was drawing for her to force herself to leave, she had to make a decision based primarily on who pumped the most sparkly affection waves into her when they interacted. Gladeshade, a younger brother to the master of the house, and an uncle to his swarm of children, was a toned, tall, smooth-snouted hot pink Earth Pony with all but perpetually sparkling, soothing green eyes. He had a rather agreeable, well-combed, lengthy vanilla brown mane, and wore a gardener’s netted vest so well one would think it was in style (even if Osma was well aware it was by and large a fashion abomination, hence Celestia would likely appreicate it). He spoke softly, with a prominent Appleloosan twang, and didn’t seem too flustered when interacting with her, being by far one of the bolder ones to catch onto her signals, yet not exactly pushy. Granted, he appeared to have pretty bad taste in tea (hardly a fan of Celestia’s favorite lemon green) or flowers (she never knew there could be a pony who dismissed daffodil sandwiches), but it wasn’t like she was choosing him to be a cook. There had definitely been worse personality traits to have, and Gladeshade compensated for the flaws Osmosis could readily find with his strong legs, smooth, strong chest, and many other subtle details of stallion anatomy. When she stood in the Gardens, way off to the side, having taken on the guise of Serviette, one of the royal waiters, she realized that the novelty of inviting him into the Canterlot Gardens was significantly lesser when one considered the fact that his brother just so happened to be their Head Gardener. Osmosis covered her light brown curly-maned disguise’s cheeks with pulsating blush upon realizing the mishap. ‘Oh you must be kidding me… He’d know every last little corner of this place with how much his entire family loves talking about what they do. He’s going to give HER an excursion, what is there for HER to show him?’ she whined silently in her mind. ‘Why won’t I think straight when I’m being pumped full of adoration by dozens of ponies?! This wasn’t a vacation, I was supposed to do other things than flirt, count Unicorns and enjoy myself! I was supposed to… have self-control, I guess. Okay, this isn’t unsalvageable yet.’ She lowered her hooves and realized that approaching the Guard-flanked Princess from the faraway gates to the vast, idyllic gardens was a small, nasty problem. Another one. Gladeshade wasn’t alone. ‘Why is— Ah. Right. Of course. He doesn’t even live here. He didn’t KNOW where to go! I didn’t tell him! Now we have two Meadowshades to deal with, and the other will distract Celie from him if they stay!’ She turned her large, watery blue eyes toward a sunset-laden sunflower, hardly containing her emotions considering the mare whose form she chose for spying on the date tended to cry at the drop of a needle anyway. ‘Why, plans, why, why are you so pretty before you start crum—’ She forcibly cleared her throat and kicked her hooves into the grass, taking a deep breath. ‘Calm down. This can still be fine. Let’s not… overplan. Maybe they’ll just leave and Sunny will have her romantic date with the soft, reliable, hard-working Appleloosan brother of her Head Gardener! Aaah!’ “Why hello there, Princess!” Gladeshade’s soft, pleasant voice carried on to her with the wind. “Greetings, Princess. Quite a funny thing we meet like this, no?” a different, definitely familiar voice spoke up right afterward, and Osma’s eye twitched. “My step-cousin didn’t know the way and I was just on my way to the lab from work.” “Good evening, Gladeshade,” Celestia said, with an audible sigh. “And good evening to you, Aster. Yes, it’s… quite funny.” The sincerely less than expected Unicorn next to the Earth Pony was the Court Wizard’s apprentice, not a good sign at all, considering it was the latter that Celestia did some important things with today. The periwinkle stallion looked much like he usually did, wearing a short starry-pink wizard’s cloak the likes of which Celestia once pointed were hardly ever worn by any actual wizards in the time of old. Both the cloak and his high-cut bumblebee mane swiveled in the wind, though he seemed largely unconcerned, which was a general theme with this befreckled stallion. Aster and Doctor Diamond did not get to interact that much, so him staying around was bound to change the flow of this conversation significantly. And he was likely to do just that - while not quite as much of an oddity as his bespectacled superior, the periwinkle stallion had a healthy amount of your usual bookworm’s social naivete, and Gladeshade couldn’t have been blunt enough to have explained that this was very likely to transform into a date. Then again, the fact that he himself had figured that out was mere conjecture on Osma’s part. If one were to judge from the very basic emphatic waves emanating from the scene, as well as the less than urgent look in Aster’s yellow eyes, he appeared to be quite happy to stick around to spend some time with a relative and a Princess. ‘What is… how is… Oh, just end me here and now. What, was I supposed to inquire about every single relative they had just in case something like this would happen? Of all the cursed things, the one stallion that Celie IS going to be distracted by at this moment in time.’ She heaved and shook her forehooves at the sky, biting on her lower lip. ‘Okay! Fine! Things just got harder, but I’m not giving up! I’ll interfere on my own if I have to! Here’s hoping that whatever she was up to today is so tiresome that she won’t want to talk to him and just lets him go.’ She reassumed a posture more befitting a Canterlot Towers waiter and trotted in place, desperately turning the gears inside her head. Simulating a very thorough inspection of the tulips that grew at around the patch of lawn she was observing the situation from, Osma examined the commotion on the other side of the road. Two stately, if bored, Royal Guards in gilded armor, two distantly related, if interfering, Meadowshine stallions, and one serene-looking, if oblique and unapproachable alicorn. Her goal was to make sure that at a near point in the future, three of the stallions were removed and the remaining two actors moved to Celestia’s bed chambers. Now that she couldn’t just hide in the bushes and watch the smooth stallion be as gentle with her in the Gardens as he was with not-quite-her back at the estate, she was going to need to improvise. The shapeshifter took off with a decisive, albeit dignified pace, appearing to most anyone she passed by that she was, at most, in a hurry. Her memory was put to a slight test, but before too long - within the realm of about twenty minutes - she’d done the rounds around the building, abusing her persuasion skills to procure a serving of snacks, a bottle of sparkly pinkgrape wine, and justifiably explain her presence to another waiter who seemed to remember that the mare Osma had turned into wasn’t meant to be around (five minutes’ worth of time lost, but her image original was probably getting paid overtime for this, though likely coupled with a number of suggestive looks - she was free to deal with those as she saw fit). ‘I’d like you to up and reject this, Celie. You aren’t getting out of this one, you are going to have a nice, pleasant dinner. No pretending you didn’t order anything, no complaining about the food, not with company like this. Unless the prospect of having a good time is so deathly to the likes of her, she’d rather make herself out to be a mean hag to a nice, smooth stallion. And also her Court Wizard’s apprentice, him too.’ Osmosis thought to herself as she trotted swiftly back, hiding a triumphant smirk. ‘If he’s still there, he’s next on the line to be dealt with.’ Upon returning, she found the mare and stallions quite some distance away, and had to switch herself to autopilot upon seeing that Celestia and Aster were talking to each other, sat closeby at one of the Gardens’ picnic tables, while all that could be seen of Gladeshade was his rump sticking out of a deep hole in a recently planted, multicolored, faintly shining giving tree. Her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, a process that was halted by the fact she felt one of the armored Guards look straight at her. They exchanged awkward looks for another couple moments, at which point Osma noticed that his eyes were less suspicious and more surprised, much like hers. The shapeshifter shook her head and motioned with her hooves that the order was for the Princess and her guests. ‘Great. At least someone is appreciating what Gladeshade has to offer. Not that he should be offering it in quite such a way, and not that that someone is supposed to have wings and a horn. How did she even get him down there? He looks like he’s not coming out just yet. What even is that tree, again?’ Osma approached the table, taking slower, calmer steps, not that the massive plate on her back was hard to balance, but she had to put effort into not letting her disguise slip. ‘I hope it’s not a sick tree or something. Gladeshade is into healing trees. It’s his cutiemark, a tree with sparkles all around.’ Her luck was on the downturn when she and Celestia shared a lengthy glare exchange that left her without doubt as to the fact she had been found out, at least as far as the Princess was concerned. Fortunately, the frumpy Princess seemed to roll with it. “Well now, would you look at that,” she said. “We have refreshments coming in. Very timely. After Mister Gladeshade is done with the giving tree, he will certainly want something to drink.” Osmosis served her bearings onto the table, suppressing her desire to viciously stab Celestia with her eyes. She turned to look at the supposed stallion of the Princess’ dreams, whose tail swished in the air, if gracefully so. He was a fairly graceful pony, all in all, too bad the mare he was meant to be made for seemed intent on putting down both his style and his grace. ‘If that’s the game you’re playing at, then so be it, Sunny,’ Osma decided resolutely. ‘Be glad I won’t shout at you in your head when Aster is around. I don’t think he will bother detecting me, but regardless, I’m above that.’ “Is something wrong with our giving tree, Princess?” she asked in the waiter mare’s voice. “It’s only been here for a few months… is it the spitting?” “...why, yes. I’ve decided to…” Celestia glanced briefly at the work-consumed stallion. “...bring in an expert to see about all the spittle coming out of this tree whenever it’s ready to deliver.” “And at a good time too. I haven’t been keeping perfect track of this particular tree, but it should be dispensing a heavy load any time now,” Aster spoke up, having procured a napkin to wrap around his neck. He extended one to the alicorn at his side wordlessly, and she accepted with with a shrug, even if it did look rather comically small above her neck harness. “Giving trees are a very finnicky sort, I could never really figure them out. Useful, of course, but I do wish someone would look into how they really work.” “Well, Aster, there are many, many things we can’t seem to understand despite so much research. It’s quite confusing.” Celestia poured herself a sparkling drink and swiftly downed it. “Oh yes, well, that’s the problem with science. Sometimes you do end up learning something,” he answered, smiling and rubbing himself behind the ear in a slight display of awkwardness. “That can be inconvenient. All the meticulous studying you poured into the subject, and then suddenly it gets figured out. That’s an existential crisis in a vacuum.” “You’re alarmingly right, Aster,” Celestia replied. “I… ugh. I, I suppose I wouldn’t want to find out that giving trees feast on our affection and their fruit comes from some dark realm that is trying to consume ours. That would definitely deprive giving trees of their style.” ‘Making small talk, are you now, huh. Well, good job, Celie, only it’s not him you’re meant to be talking to. I pick a stallion out just for you, and you start being friendly… well, more friendly than usual, with the closest other guy you can find. I know dedication when I see it.’ Osma deliberated between remaining in their proximity to potentially make it more awkward and stepping away to avoid soiling the actual servant mare’s standing. For the time being she pretended to gawk at the scenery, which, in all fairness, was definitely a dominant feature in the Gardens. ‘Well you’re not gonna be able to talk about these… ethereal topics forever. And for solid things, I’ve brought you Gladeshade. Goodness gracious, what is so engaging down there that he won’t come out?’ She caught Aster glancing over at her. Unlike Celestia, and evermore unlike his mentor Diamond Eye, this Unicorn was considerably more expressive and less subtle. She could tell that he definitely found her presence inconvenient, presumably without even knowing who she actually was. The mare looked back with the best impression of innocent, loyal helpfulness. “Miss Serviette,” he addressed her. “Now, I understand this isn’t the proper way to do introductions, but that stallion in the tree there, he’s my…” He clicked his tongue and puffed his nostrils. “...cousin. His name is Gladeshade. He’s volunteered to see to some things with the garden. This particular tree, as you said, spits a lot, so he’s likely to be a bit drenched when he comes out, so would you kindly see about getting someone over here who could take care of that quickly and efficiently?” The purple Unicorn smiled, mostly with his lips, not so much his eyes. “I’d rather not have to summon a wash spirit, and Princess Celestia really needn’t give stallions she only met this very day showers. So, please?” “Oh, of course, by all means! I’m sure Princess Celestia picked the best possible stallion for the job - it would be an awful shame for him to be soaked in tree spit on such a big day!” she replied, piping up the excitement. “It’ll be a jiffy, Master Aster, your hard-working cousin can count on a good, quick cleaning!” “Just Aster, please,” he told her, dragging a hoof down his forehead and exhaling loudly. Osma found herself in conflicted spirits as she trotted swiftly outside their view and, after some memory browsing, took on the visage of the right pony for the cleaning job. On the one side, she could tell that Celestia was less tense and unapproachable, if subtly so. She even seemed to have chuckled lightly at Aster’s exasperation with what he was called. As the shapeshifter paced around impatiently, checking to see if it was the right pony she turned into (which it was; one of the Royal Spa employees with a cutie mark of water and bubbles), she could also rather easily pick up on the ensuing conversation with her empathic link and slightly superior hearing. Which was good, but on the other side, this was quite literally the exact set of events that was meant to happen with this stallion she painstakingly selected from a whole bucketload of fitting specimens. The exact things they were talking about also sounded a little suspicious. “...that’s what you can look forward to, then. I understand it’s quite something to take in,” Celestia was saying. “But such things just tend to… happen, sometimes.” “Ohhh… boy. Do they ever. I never even knew,” Aster’s voice came in return, puzzled. “That’s because developments like these tend to be abrupt. I just so happened to bring in a little bit of Love, and off it all went. When push came to shove, all I could do was stand and face the facts,” the Princess continued. Osma stopped in her tracks and perked up her ears, jingling the lengthy jewelled earrings the mare she’d turned into often wore. “So here we are now, Aster. This should prove interesting.” “I’ll be blunt and note that I have got nothing to say to that right now. Love?.. Just… Love?..” Aster trailed off into a long, exasperated sigh. “Heavens, there’s so much that can be done now. Also, so much that shouldn’t.” “Aren’t you ever so correct, Aster. See, now that I’ve informed you, it won’t be such a shock to process. I could go in detail, if you wish. Though after the... chaotic endeavor that today has been, I could get the finer details wrong.” Celestia’s thoughtwaves wobbled a little, even though Osma wasn’t directly browsing them. She must have taken a good sip. While it would hardly have done much to her, the shapeshifter would hardly have minded some alcohol herself. ‘What is going ON? What is she talking about? Love, what? What, Love? Love? What? No, this is… Is she playing me?’ she pondered, trampling the grass underhoof. ‘That’s what this is, isn’t it? Has she stooped so low as to start talking about love with ANY stallion she can find, so long as it’s not the one I picked for her? Was today so bad that she has to be this spiteful? This would be a record even by her standards. Why else would she be talking about this?’ She lost her patience and kicked her hind legs before setting off into a trot, coming onto the scene somewhat suspiciously early. The teal middle-aged mare with a tall pink hair-do that she turned into had a bit too many jingly fashion accessories all around, not to mention her mane, necessitating a much slower pace than she would have preferred. Not only was her jewelry dangerously out of season, with far too many amethysts for her coloration, but it hampered Osma’s urgent need to find out what in the world was going on before Celestia started making out with that Unicorn specifically to spite her. The mental image made her have to suppress a smirk. “Oh. Miss, uh…” Aster called out before stopping awkwardly. He was never a frequent spa visitor. She did the bowing routine in the meantime, muttering “Princess” quietly with reverence. “...” Celestia sat completely silent, pretending to sip a shot she’d emptied long ago. She did not have good memory for ponies’ names. “...Serviette called you over, yes?” the stallion found his way out of the predicament before Osma could tell him that the mare’s name was Whirlpool. “Yes, she did, Master Aster,” the shapeshifter replied, revelling in him sinking the hoof his snout was perched upon deeper into his cheek. “A sweaty stallion emergency of some kind? I don’t suppose that could possibly be you?” She said with some cheek to her voice, perusing the freedom of speech the mare’s conversational tendencies provided. “Your flower doesn’t look like it needs watering particularly much, in fact you seem a little dry.” While Celestia poured herself a new drink, having realized she could have downed the entire bottle in the amount of time spent pretending, Aster cleared his throat and motioned with his hoof toward the tree. Osma used the chance to admire Gladeshade’s flanks yet again. “My… cousin over there is fighting a losing battle. It’s clear by now that him, his hooves and his smarts alone aren’t going to solve the little spitting issue it’s been having. Do please, ahh… extract him from there, and get him looking .” “Aaah,” she replied, nodding and biting her lower lip momentarily. “Oh yes, we cannot have sweaty stallions of this caliber mingling with the Princess. Do consider it done.” Osmosis made sure to give Celestia the most subtle, yet piercing glare she could manage, and then set off to rescue the date. Without much warning, and ignoring Gladeshade’s muffled affirmation that things were coming along just fine, she grabbed the stallion firmly by the tail with Whirlpool’s magic, and had him outside the colorful, wobbling tree in a single pull. Her empathic sensitivity allowed her to feel a distinct pang of disappointment, coming presumably from one of the guards. “Yoo-ahh...” He exhaled languidly, shaking his head in mild confusion. “Thought I was just about done. Another service I can do?” “Yes, Mister—” Osma caught herself almost saying the name she didn’t know yet. “Gladeshade, ma’am,” he helped her our with a smile. It would have been charming if not for the fact that his attractive, refined features were covered in jelly-like orange goop that smelled of pear and ginger. ‘And he still looks not half bad. Celie, stop missing good things.’ “Very glad to meet you,” she answered, and tugged at his forehoof. “Now do follow me, we’ll get you presentable for the Princess in a blink of an eye.” “Oh? But I wasn’t—” “Your cousin says the tree doesn’t need salvaging as much as you do.” She beckoned for him to follow, eyeing up the nearest secluded area and doing some preliminary magical channeling so as not to flounder at Whirlpool’s trademark aquatic magic. “Now off we go, Mister Gladeshade, you’re so gooey and moist.” “It’s not that bad, just let me back there for a few more minutes and I’ll have you a winner!” he retorted. Considering the fact Celestia and Aster were back to chatting, Osma realized drastic measures needed taking. “I’m afraid not! Now off we go, don’t keep the Princess waiting with your cousin,” she told him, all but hauling him after her. “Don’t waste such an important day on being gooey inside a sniffly tree, Mister Gladeshade, or the Princess will have to listen to the riveting tales of how the magic school is doing. And she can do that any day, but you may not be here tomorrow!” “Oh, well, if you insist…” he submitted, at long last. A convenient arrangement of hedges allowed her to get to work quickly. He had protests, being more used to actual showers as opposed to being magically cleaned in the middle of the Canterlot Gardens by a mare he didn’t know while the Princess herself was talking with his spotlight-stealing step-cousin only a few steps down the path. Generally, he turned out to be a bit of a fussy pony, while still soft-spoken. He sure was awkward, and her handling of the precise temperature and pressure of the water she was pouring onto him from a somewhat titular whirlpool was not entirely perfect, but Osma expected him to be a bit less huffy, gaspy and yeowchy. He would also occasionally try to mention the fact that he really was almost done with the tree and wanted more time with the specimen, but she would shut him up there and then. By when they were about done, she essentially tamed him into following most anything she said. Osma deliberated between going through his coat with soaped up water and drying him off as he was. A proper look and an aromatic boost, at odds with rescuing the date. As he was made to pose and do some rubbing underneath her shower, the mare had another thing to vie for her attention beside his shapes and curves. The bits and pieces she kept hearing were capturing some of her attention too. “...that’s a big decision to make. I wouldn’t want to doubt your judgement, but just in case, do you really believe this was an opportunity worth taking?” Aster’s murmured. “Because… I just… I don’t think I’m quite…” “I know what you mean. As I said, it seems the decent thing to do to introduce you to the barrage of events that’s happened. You’re important in all this, even if you’re not Court Wizard yet,” Celestia replied to him. “One day you’ll take up the mantle and have to sort all of this out. Tumultuous times are coming.” The shapeshifter let out a loud groan that developed into a sigh. ‘Oh, now you’re trying to confuse me, huh? You go from talking to him like you’re about to get married, and now it’s all ooga-booga-evil-is-coming-go-find-me-a-student-now? Nice bait and switch, Sunny.’ Whirlpool’s snout scrunched into a squinty-eyed grimace, and her horn flickered momentarily. ‘If you’re willing to try so hard just to mess with me, then you have no excuse not to have lured a stallion into your bed yet.’ As she pondered over the Princess’ devious machinations, her focus on the washing spell broke off. There was a momentary strong flush of chilly water descending onto Gladeshade, who gasped and eeped, raising his forehooves to his chest and biting his lip. ‘...and I just doused the one I got for you in cold water. Great.’ “Wha-whu-wha-waaas that necessary?!” the shuddering stallion squeaked out, having lost a fair amount of his suave demeanor. “Gosh, Miss Whirlpool, this is so cold…” “It’s called a contrast shower. It’s good for you. Now get yourself in order, I’ll have you dried back up in a second,” she ordered, putting in a smidge more bark into the spa mare’s voice than was required. Gladeshade succumbed instantly upon their eyes having met, and forced himself to stop shaking, spreading his limbs out. Osma neglected to fully empathize with the chill-dripping Earth Pony and took an additional moment to evaluate his body - still quite acceptable, and the wet mane suited him too. “You can’t impress the Princess all frosty and shaky and wet - I’m not letting you out of here in anything but tip top shape. Fortunately I’m skilled in magical drying.” “Wait, b-but, if you’re using ma—” “Shush! Calm, still, quiet!” she hissed, and he instantly obliged, looking down with worried eyes. ‘You have no idea how much you have to worry about. I’m rescuing you here! You could be in bed with Celestia! Tonight! Maybe! Ungrateful, droopy, soaked stud.’ The fanning, heating whirlpools she’d summoned to his sides at least required less focus. Even while she needed to manually adjust his puffing-up coat and mane with her hooves, Osmosis still had the opportunity to listen in on what was going on there where he was meant to be impressing Celestia with his soft voice, calm wit and toned body. As opposed to bewildering a spa master who was actually a royal shapeshifter with just how puffy and blown-up his mane and coat could apparently get. On the other side of the hedges, things were progressing. ‘Come on, Celie. What poison are you spilling into Aster’s head to make him take his cousin’s opportunity of a lifetime away from him?’ “Oh dear. Injecting ancient horrors with Love to mold them into seeing reason. Here I thought teaching was ridiculous,” the Unicorn said, apparently reacting to something… interesting Osma had missed. “I can’t help but feel like something about this plan is fishy.” “I do too, Aster, but you know well that solid plans don’t typically tend to work out. Especially not with things like… him. It makes more sense once some numbers Diamond provided me with are taken into account,” Celestia replied. “At least, I would like to think so.” “While I wouldn’t doubt him too much, I can’t help but feel skeptical. So much can go wrong here. I don’t want to doubt you either, Princess, but—” “It’s fine, Aster. You’re free to doubt me. That’s why I talk to you and Diamond. I can’t just make all the important decisions on my own,” Celestia cut him off. There were things in that conversations that made Osma raise an eyebrow, not that Gladeshade noticed it, since she was fighting to keep his mane from turning into a wavy waterfall of fluff. “...Well, yes. No, I’m not saying you made any catastrophic mistakes, Princess, but let’s face it, no one can deal with the stress of rulership forever.” The meddlesome Unicorn’s bluntness seemed to have shaped itself into a close approximation of supportive consolation. “After a day of dealing with the kids and sorting out the papers Diamond has me looking at, I can just get loopy. I mean, I sometimes catch myself trying to exit work through the tool shed door in my office.” The Princess chuckled, audibly trying to hold it down, but failing. Gladeshade tried to complain about something again, now that his snout wasn’t being barraged with hot air and mashing hooves, but Osma shushed him down. Interesting things were happening. “Oh, goodness me. I couldn’t even begin to tell you what I do after I’m done with days… like this one, actually,” Celestia said. “I’d burn up where I sit.” “Was the school facade design one of those occasions, Princess?” Aster perked up, with some playfulness to his voice. They seemed to have nearly finished the bottle. “I won’t ask for it to be changed back, it’d take valuable time, and so on, and so forth… but really… while we did accidentally speed up the decay of the front of our school in a magic experiment I really shouldn’t have sanctioned, the hot pink and baby blue with stars and magic wands is not the most dignified of patterns.” He gulped, choking down a laugh himself. “Now that I think of it, it seems fitting punishment. For me, that is. But the kids?..” “Now, while I do feel regretful over several things, that one is not my fault. It was a slow day and I decided to visit the spa, and then it appeared that I haven’t been treated in so long that I had to stay there for several hours. And you can guess what happened while I was away,” the alicorn replied somewhat irritably. The shapeshifter scrunched her snout in recognition of both the incident and her obvious implication. “Most of the time it’s fine, but when it’s things like this… I just can’t feel safe when it comes to, ahm. The more cosmetic side of things ponies ask me for help with. The first opportunity we get, we’re refurbishing it. I can’t have my School for Gifted Unicorn looking like this. It’s an important establishment.” ‘It looked nice. At the time.’ Osma frowned. Gladeshade tried to whine again, but she was nearly done and it was just his rump left, so a single poke to his muscled side silenced him. ‘Looking back, it should all have been blue - azure, perhaps. The old design with the columns was lame.’ “Ah, yes. I see. Well, that just means I can have all the more sympathy for you in this particular case, Princess. It’s no longer your fault our school looks like a kindergarten,” he said, hardly seeming that frustrated himself. “Working on things that’ll have potentially world-ending ramifications isn’t the sort of thing you want to be doing in a building like that. It’s a little bit ridiculous.” “Putting Love in a beaker is also ridiculous, if you think about it,” Celestia replied, providing yet another thing Osma could only perk her ears at. Context was going to be required when this was over. “So… yes, these are all big decisions. If you need to know more, I could recount what specifically we did back there.” “I wonder what it was that made acting on Discord now a particularly good idea, yes. Continue by all means, I doubt my cousin will be back very soon. We have an incredibly strong bad shower hair gene in our family.” “Really now, do you? Ah, well. I am sure he’s in good hooves.” Celestia’s slyness could be felt from a mile away. Osma glared at the very obvious bearer of the worst incarnation of the bad shower hair gene Aster so timely mentioned. In all this, though, her gears were turning, and things didn’t seem that straightforward anymore. She eyed the dried up stallion with a thorough, critical eye. Visually speaking, he looked only slightly poofy, only his chest seemed particularly fuzzy - an accomplishment to be sure. He gave her good reasons to truly drive some daggers into him as she sauntered round, in less of a hurry now than before. Now that she had been waylaid enough times by various inconveniences, Osma was beginning to have doubts as to her choice of dream date stallion. Gladeshade, as he stood before her now, was different from the one she thought she knew well enough to pitch to the Princess. In more ways than his fluffiness, too - that one was, in fact, a boon of sorts, few mares wouldn’t like a poofy stallion at their disposal. The rest of her findings were less positive. Not that they were horrid character flaws, but he seemed an… inferior choice for Celestia specifically now. In Whirlpool’s guise, being able to order him around and speak roughly, towering slenderly above his well-built frame, she appeared to be able to bend Gladeshade every which way. There was some room for error, but nowhere near enough for her to be unable to say that if he were ever partnered with Celestia, she would make a pretzel out of him in no time. Putting her combined experience with him together, Osmosis saw it rather clearly now. Gladeshade had a very defined weakness for commanding, rougher mares that boasted an age advantage over him. During her time at the Meadowshine estate, the shapeshifter put effort into being appealing and generally agreeable, what with the sheer amount of ponies around. It was necessary for finding out the necessary information, and one rarely went wrong with being nice and laid back. This was one case where it misfired. Gladeshade seemed the sweetest, most fitting one, as he talked to the serene, smiling, occasionally sly Princess Celestia. He appeared as if he would be a solid refresher to her everyday life, not being too high-society and having more of a working pony’s mind, while still bearing considerable wits. The fact he exhibited some of the more palpable interest in conversing with her about various things and getting a chance to show himself off also helped - he went beyond the reverence of some others. Clearly, he liked Celestia in more ways than one, as did many ponies. But if this strong, toned, smart, soft-spoken Earth Pony were to be inserted into the Princess’ more everyday life, little of Osma’s imagined idyllic relationship between an honest worker and wizened royalty would remain. The real, private Princess Celestia, even if she were to - and she would - restrain herself and try to put on a more official mask in talking to her new partner, was ever so pushy of a mare. Part of it was intrinsic, part of it was acquired after having lived with Osma for so long and being used to having her for what was essentially a pincushion. Gladeshade met enough requirements that she would find him appealing to keep around, should he have passed the ever so impassable initial test of even being considered. But were he to win, he would turn into another such pincushion with remarkable speed. Even disregarding Celestia’s restraint and potential maskery, it was clear he would all but initiate it. ‘He’s one submissive little garden boy. Gosh, he likes it. Well, HE would be having fun, but I am not reinforcing Celie’s tendencies,’ she resolved, clicking her tongue and shaking her head as the stallion looked at her uneasily, eyebrows raised, lips trembling. Cute, yes, inordinately so. Too cute. She tried to puff down his chest a little, yet again shutting him up at the makings of another potential protest, drowning them in huffs and eeks. ‘She isn’t going to win this easily, though. Not even with this miserable little mishap that you are, Gladeshade. She thinks she’s turned the tables on me! I’ll turn them on her.’ And she could, in fact, much needn’t be done. Osma recognized that her focus on this one specific stallion cost her in the long run. Her job was to get Celestia suited with a stallion whom she found attractive, whom she could talk to, who reinforced her good sides and who contrasted her enough to truly complete her. If a cleaner mind was assumed… then someone all too terribly fitting for the spot was sitting right next to the unapproachable mare that was the Princess, and they had been having dinner together this entire time. Already. Evaluating Aster outside the frame of a nuisance brought onto this world specifically to mess up her plans, he fit a whole lot of the criteria. He was periwinkle purple with a bumblebee yellow mane bearing a white stripe, befitting his name - those were colors Celestia was fond of to a decent degree. His hair was sort of a disaster, which meant she more than likely found it attractive. The white freckles that permanently occupied the tops of his cheeks were also a tiny detail that the picky alicorn could easily find endearing. His messy and overall unfortunate choices of wardrobe borne of a certain disregard to daily minutia borne out of that Unicorn’s mentally taxing occupations were likely to pander to her despicable fashion style, too. On top of that, the somewhat longer horn with a well-defined rising spiral pattern was a particularly subtle like of Celestia’s that she had once discovered by chance. What made him really applicable, however, was his personality and behavior. Him and Celestia could easily connect on many levels - there was less difference between ruling a country and teaching children than it would seem. They were also both prone to silly, careless habits due to the drain that their work was on their minds. Better yet, however, Aster, while not quite as mercurial and strange as his mentor, was still quite unlike most ponies in his straightforward manner of talking with the Princess. He was one of the few denizens of Equestria to truly think she may be mistaken and go as far as to say so in conversation. He appeared a sort of polar opposite to what Gladeshade turned out to be, overall, starting with his looks and ending with his behavior. As if things weren’t good enough, him and her were already acquainted, an immense boost all around. ‘And to top it all off, he should be good with children, teaching them magic no less. Oh yes, this is… perfect. All I need to do is monitor how they spend their time together, starting now, and nudge them in the right places. Sunny, you have been outplayed.’ With a contented sigh, she turned around and cast another trying glance at the stallion who failed. ‘Now to get rid of this failed project and— What the?..’ Her lack of attention for Gladeshade’s finer details did not stop where she thought it stopped. Over the short amount of time she spent not paying too much real attention to him, he went back to being just as fluffy. Specifically in the chest. “What’s going on here?” she inquired demandingly. At first it seemed simply frustrating and odd, but then she finally truly processed the look in his eyes as he tried to warn her again. “M-miss Whirlpool, I… well… well, you… I don’t mean any disrespect, but I tried to tell you! Uoohh, ahh…” The Earth Pony shifted uncontrollably, starting to trot in place. “Okay, maybe there aren’t THAT many… any time nooow…” “...Mister Gladeshade? What’s the issue here? Is your coat really that picky with what water it likes?” “I tried to tell yooou,” he whined. “I’m all pollinated! It’s spreading season for giving trees! That’s why it’s spitting, I tried to quell the inflammation, but there’s only so much I can do! I’m covered in giving tree seeds!” “And?..” She scratched her head, wobbling Whirlpool’s pink mane. “They react to magical water very strongly, they’re magical plants, so this… um… speeds…” He hiccupped, his eyes growing wide and glassy. “...it ...up… oh no…” He began to really twist, bending over in half and then back again, heaving and then retching. “Gladesha—” Osmosis’ troubled cry was cut off by something moist, yet plushy hitting her right in the snout. And then another. And then again. And then the entirety of the secluded hedged place she’d turned into Gladeshade’s shower was bombarded by those objects. They shot out of every puffy area on the stallion’s body, places she previously thought merely unruly - in truth, they couldn’t rest because the hairs housed arcane floral ammunition. No stallion could have been this fluffy by nature. Now there was giving tree produce shooting out of everywhere, including his mouth. The stallion spat out gift after gift, fortunately not at a high enough rate to choke. Once Osma regained control, she hurried to his aid, pulling out the one that was half-stuck in his mouth. It got worse from there. ‘Oh no. Oh no no. Oh no no no no. They actually read your mind. Oh, this is…’ She couldn’t even think of a good way to describe this. Every single object being shot out of poor Gladeshade was a doll of Princess Celestia. Some were innocent and cute-looking, plush and smiley. Most, such as the one she just pulled out of his mouth, weren’t. Most were… lewd, to put it mildly. ‘My oh my, is he into some things…’ Osma mused in bewilderment. ‘At least he really WAS looking forward to this, huh…’ The barrage ended right around the time she could hear the Guards’ hooves thudding against the ground nearby. Swiftly, she made her way over to them, and shouted in abject panic: “There’s an emergency situation over here! Nobody come in, you might get hit! No, not even you!” Whirlpool’s hoof found itself squashed straight against the snout of one of the two stallions. “I’ll go get… a doctor! No, no, don’t worry, he appears fine, but we need to make sure. Don’t let anyone come in, it’s a big mess in there.” ‘Ugh, he’s not even concerned. He looks disappointed. He’s the same one I caught gawking at Gladeshade’s rump earlier, isn’t he? Well I have enough of a mess to sort out without him being allowed to see what he’s like right now. Curses, just as I thought I had it!’ Osma shot one last piercing, pleading glance at Celestia, who was, in turn, very confused, her mouth left slightly open. Fortunately, her sincerity was detected: “Guard that spot, don’t let anyone else come in,” she said, and let the shapeshifter rush off in relief. Naturally, her order planted the Guards in place. “And do not go in! We’re lucky the area is walled off,” Aster added, raising from his seat, albeit unsteadily, and pointing his hoof in the armored stallions’ direction for emphasis. “When a gifting spree event is triggered, the fruits need to stay dormant lest they spread more pollen! Remember, these were weeds a few years ago!” “Did you know this would happen?” Celestia asked, turning her eyes suspiciously toward the Unicorn. She sipped the last of her wine with the side of her mouth, preferring to focus on him. “I… sort of did. I don’t mean that I did this on purpose, of course, of— of course not.” He gulped and blushed. He was already somewhat flushed up from the alcohol him and the Princess shared, in any case. “It’s just that… pah, I feel like my mind’s one giant sieve. I just forget little important details sometimes. In retrospect, we should just have sent him to a proper shower. Magical water triggers giving tree pollen to activate, you see. And, well, it’s clearly spreading season right now.” “I would say cousin Gladeshade could have used that information before he was halfway submerged inside the tree,” she pointed out, raising her eyebrow and smiling. “I didn’t know I was right. My cutiemark may be a flower, but I’m not the plant expert in here, so I kept my opinion to myself,” Aster said in self-defence. “I always saw mine as more of a metaphor, in any case. And besides, his has a tree on it, and this was… no, nevermind, we just call them giving trees. They are actually a genus of raphanus arcanum. Yes, timely information coming from me, I know.” He sighed. “I should either drink less… or more.” “This particular wine was, in fact, rather good. It’s a shame we’ve put an end to it. I can’t say I noticed when we did that…” Celestia scrunched her mouth momentarily before reassuming a more proper looking expression. “If I’m to offer an excuse, it’s because today has been quite the ridiculous, restless day. I raised the sun early, you know. Silly reasons, no need to ask.” “At times like these I wonder how this place is still standing when ponies like us are in charge,” Aster muttered, adding in a laugh to make sure he wasn’t taken too seriously. “Equestria is an odd place when you look at it from an unbiased perspective.” “Oh, it’s not so bad. Let’s not be too hard on ourselves. Some other ponies with influence can be worse.” The Princess deliberated for a moment, and then resolved to channeling a somewhat complex spell. It worked - there was a new bottle of wine on the table, though a bit dusty and covered in cobwebs. Aster didn’t waste much time uncorking it and pouring new glasses. “Now, if more bright minds like the one who gave us ‘rockanomics’ all the way in Vanhoover slip through the tracks - then it’ll be a true cause for alarm.” “Goodness. Yeah, I’ll only be able to compare with that level of silliness if I keep this job to my old age.” The Unicorn shook his head. “Ungh, I just realized.” “What is it?” “I am sitting here, having drinks and sandwiches with Princess Celestia. Somehow, this seems a little odd. Especially if I remember the fact my cousin probably just burst a whole barrage of… whatever the tree decided the gifts would be.” Aster rubbed his forehead, spreading a bit of the moisture that had sprung up on the spot as the two of them leaned in on the wine. “Granted, at the rate I’m going at, soon enough I won’t. I should really stop right here, I can’t hold my spirits,” he muttered defeatedly, and emptied most of his glass. “If you’re worried about someone spreading rumors about our ‘relationship’, then don’t. The Canterlot gossip community has been fighting for years over who I am bedding. This would only add another side to the conflict, which is fair, I suppose. Can’t just let things be stale.” Princess Celestia exhaled and remembered to take a bite from a nearby sandwich. “Stale can sometimes be good. In the grand scheme of things, it probably won’t.” “Frankly, the way things are going right now is less than stale. Just because we’re not having some sort of calamity just yet doesn’t mean Equestria is some…” The Unicorn mumbled, searching for words. “...bastion of normality. It just isn’t. On a grand scale, it may all look placid, and I don’t blame you. But some things I deal with when it comes to the school, the research and the Canterlot elites, it’s just ridiculous.” “Of course it is. There’s a deeper level of chaos to most anything we do,” Celesia said quietly. “A blessing and a curse.” “Personally, I think that the particular brand of chaos we have here in Canterlot is not… the best,” Aster admitted. “Most Court Wizard business that’s public in any way is usually relegated to me. And, well… this helper of yours, I’m sure she lets you know how things are like among these ponies.” The alicorn rolled her eyes silently and ate more of her sandwich. “You know, I think I’ve had enough to drink…” he begun, before having to stifle a hiccup. “I do think we got a little carried away. I should be lowering the sun shortly to account for my morning mishap, just as well.” “Oh.” Aster lowered his head, which he then slowly, tensely shook. “Well, yes. I suppose. I will need to sober myself up before checking in with Diamond, too. Sorting out tons of papers he’s no doubt already produced, ones that the fate of the world will probably depend upon no less - that is probably not a task I’m well suited to… not in this condition.” “On the bright side, unless he lied to me and did not classify the lich ascension spell as part of our necromancy ban, you’ll be in his place eventually. That should be more exciting.” The periwinkle stallion breathed in deep and stared into the distance. After a few seconds of so doing, he pressed his snout hard against the table. Celestia raised an eyebrow and began to stretch out a hoof to help, in case he needed in, but he spoke up: “Diamond Eye. What an act to follow. Maybe it’s just the alcohol… but… ugh.” He grumbled. “I’ll just say it, Princess. I don’t want to be Court Wizard.” “...oh?..” “All this was exciting for the first few years. By now, though… I don’t think this is the right thing for me. My talent is in… it’s in making things, hm… better? The blooming flower, it is a metaphor, as I said. I teach children, and, well, I refine his papers too.” Aster raised his head and looked to the side, catching the glimpse of the Canterlot skyline. “But this—” he said, pointing a hoof in the city’s direction, “—this is stifling me. I suppose I’ll just break it in now. Once the classes I currently teach are graduating, I’ll be handing in my resignation, for both my posts. No more Master Aster.” “I can understand that. I shouldn’t stop you. There’s a reason I need her to get by,” Celestia said calmly. “Canterlot is silly, outrageous, and fairly vicious. Maybe it’ll change with time… but thus far it hasn’t. Where would you go?” “Heh.” Aster sighed, looking longingly at the evening sky. “I suppose I’ll share my retirement plan with you, Princess. There’s this really nice place just nearby. It’s a small town, a village, really. It’s called Ponyville. Not the… most promising name, but I assure you, it’s practically idyllic. I’ll just go there teach the local kids, or open a library, or something of that sort. Maybe both, if I find myself unable to do one thing at a time after years of juggling all of this.” “Oh, I do know of that place. About five years ago, I granted it to some local apple farmers. Hardly surprised to hear it’s progressed so well, I always saw potential in it. Never did check on it again, though…” Celestia pondered, rubbing her chin. “Maybe if we figure out how Osma’s shapeshifting works, I’ll leave her to rule for a week and go have a vacation there. I do like smaller towns where little happens.” “Exactly,” Aster replied gleefully, raising a hoof in the air. “It’s a resort in all but name for the likes of us. It’s just… untainted, you know? I could settle down in there. You probably shouldn’t, though.” He chuckled and sighed, clearing his throat. “Not after last time she was left to reign for more than two days. I’m not sure what was worse, her speech at the fundraiser or the fact everyone liked it.” “Oh. You’ve built it all up, and now you crash it down.” The mare rolled her eyes and groaned with some playfulness. “Great, I’ll be fixated upon it now. And I’ll know I can’t, because indeed, if Osma’s left to rule for too long, we may not even need Discord to break out - it’ll be total chaos.” “You’re right, there. The likes of her, she’d probably open his containment area for school trip excursions. As if it’s not difficult enough to maintain!” The Unicorn scoffed and shook his head. “Though, if it makes you feel any better, Ponyville is, in fact, bordering the Everfree Forest,” Aster replied with a shrug. This time, it was Celestia’s turn to press her snout deep into the table and sigh. “Of course it is. We should both be going.” --- “But WHY??? Why, why, why, why, WHY?!” Osmosis cried, bouncing in utter frustration on their bed. “Because, Osma,” Celestia replied flatly. She had a series of generous yawns, which masked the shapshifter’s outcry, which was severe enough that she was changing colors sporadically. “Not an answer! No! I refuse! Refuse! Reject!” she shouted and growled. “Explain! Explain! Explaaaaaain!!!” she hollered, switching violently between random imposing voices. “Shush. Stop being a big, disturbing, creepy baby. If this is your reaction to me not making love to anyone tonight, then we just can’t do any business,” the Princess told her, maintaining the same tone of voice. The mare combed through her aetherial mane, a task typically left for Osma, who was currently unwilling. “Nnrrrghh! This is just to make me suffer, isn’t it?! You’re a sadist! They call ponies like you sadists, I’ll have you know! Because you don’t know anything about—” Princess Celestia’s beanbag seat slid over to the insectoid mare, pulled along by the alicorn’s own magic, and her white hoof stuck itself squarely into the protesting equine’s mouth just as she began to scream again. “I’m not a sadist, you’re just paranoid. Yes, I know, you wanted me to fall in love with Gladeshade. He was pretty, I admit. But that is simply not how it works.” She finished with the combing and levitated over a cup of coffee. Raising an eyebrow, she continued before the hoof-gagged mare decided to start screaming telepathically. “And yes, I know, you would have liked Aster as well. I’m not that dense, Osma. He would not have worked out either. He simply wouldn’t have.” The white mare grumbled as her body double began to chew on her hoof in defiance, and brought over a newspaper to smack her on the head repeatedly. Osmosis went from growling to hissing and whimpering aggressively. “He’s a good stallion, I’ve known him for some time, but the thought of having him as my partner just doesn’t work out for me. That is the simple truth. On top of that, he told me, in an unrelated conversation…” She had to stop and give her another smack upon feeling extremely judgemental eyes piercing through her hide. “...ahem. He told me that he doesn’t care for the high society kerfuffles all too much. And however romantic you think long distance relationships between royalty and a subject are, Osma, I will assure you that the real logicstics of the matter are less than fantastic.” “Hmpflhflhfhfplhpfl!” The gagged mare’s tongue emerged, lapping viciously at the obstructive exremity, which finally made it retract. Celestia shivered and scrunched her mouth, squinting at her unruly companion. “Excuses, you are made of excuses, ex-cu-seees! PERFECT THEY WERE BOTH PERFECT, AAAAHHHH!!!” “Osma, that’s not—” “Aster fit you so well, buargh! He could teach your stupid protege and stuff! You’ll have to learn to deal with kids now!” she continued unabated. “And I tried to hard to hook you and Gladeshade up! I moved mountains! I lied, stole, cheated! And you have NO IDEA how good he was in bed!!!” There was a long, awkward silence as the Princess stared blankly at the shapeshifter, who hissed and chittered, aiming her own blank gem-like eyes at the befuddled pony sovereign. The double whammy of her having raised a good point to be filed away for later reference and her having said what she just said, it hit rather hard. “...what? Ah. I was too busy screaming at you to mention,” Osma said, still glaring at her employer. “He was so into you that when that whole thing went down, tons of you dolls popped out of him. I disposed of them as fast as I could after he was carried off into the hospital, but then I had to rush back to keep track of him so he didn’t do anything stupid.” “...” Celestia opened her mouth multiple times, but never decided on what to even say. “Aaand sooo I turned into that nurse I saw in that book once, and then—” “...Osma… just... I…” The Princess covered her face up with her hooves and slowly tumbled off the beanbag. “... how… no. Just… I mean… nevermind… where - oh heavens I’m afraid to ask - where did you put the dolls?” “In our closet.” “Arm the dream sphere for the night,” Celestia said in a droll monotone, her words muffled by her own hooves. “Add the Meadowshines to our roster of potentials in the morning. And give me some love.” Osmosis hacked and sputtered, jaw dropping open, transparent wings fluttering in agitation. “Oh, why you, after, after, after THIS?! And you’re so BLATANT!” she whisper-screamed in indignation. “It’s not for—” “I’m done! You sleep on the floor today! Good night!” Princess Celestia had to teleport herself onto the bed that night, and they only laid themselves to rest when it was clear neither was outwrestling the other. In fairness, Osma was not using all her strength, and Celestia cheated by biting on her head nubs. In any case, the additional sleep either was going to get from the premature sunset was cut in about half.