So Maybe

by Ice Star


I Watch You

So maybe Raven was not the most remarkable of ponies. She was small and pale-coated. Her job was to stand in the shadow of a goddess — and to trot after it without a question on her tongue or a single doubt on her mind. She was a secretary, and quietly proud of her position as much as she was still astounded by the company she was surrounded by. To experience the lives of the divine first hoof would never be normalized, nor could it be — but with time it had grown familiar.

No that was not entirely truthful, the Moon Goddess was a strange mare to her. She was powerful and emotional, but quiet and mysterious. There was something about her that was so much more mystical than all other Alicorns, and it made Raven wary. It was only through paperwork and the words of another that Raven knew anything about Princess Luna, an oddly adventurous spirit that was so alien to the quaint little Canterlot native in more ways than one. She managed Princess Luna's finances as she did with her sister's, but only what was presented to her, for the younger goddess withheld much. She asked no questions otherwise and merely worked with what she was allowed to, by the grace of Princess Luna. It was her that always had an unspoken way of reminding Raven she was Princess Celestia's secretary and not her own, and Raven liked this divide. It walled her off from truly knowing the moon goddess.

It was good. Life was good, and Raven liked to think she was good too.

...

She had come from a good family, from a father who worked for The Canterlot Chronicle and a mother who was a castle maid. The maternal side of Raven's family was a long, unremarkable lineage of assorted domestic servants of many kinds. Almost every mare in her family had been a whisper in the great song of a wealthy household, but they did not boast of it, for pride was not the Equestrian way. Growing up, Raven knew no pain and knew no hunger. She wanted for very little and got good marks in a good school.

She was good at games that were quiet, for Raven did not like to speak when she was not spoken to. Chess stole the attention of the filly with large glasses and a dark, prim bob. Before her magic was steady, she reached her small, pale hooves out from under the sleeves of sweater-jackets and school uniforms to nudge polished pieces of ebony around — it was always ebony with her, too. Her house, as all Canterlot houses, had a level of grandeur, and with her paternal family's fine lineage and dips into magic here and there — she had a sorcerer cousin, or so she had been informed — and that meant there were heirlooms and various Expensive Things about. Customary portraits were here and there, and dark polished things of fine wood were a common aesthetic in her home, which was fine in the way all Canterlot homes were expected to be.

Raven was told to mind her manners, and she did. She was read the same tales as any other foal in Equestria, and though it was through glasses, she eyed the same pictures of the wicked Nightmare Moon, whose existence was dubious at the time, the mad and disorganized Discord, and many other things. Of all the breezie tale baddies, it was perhaps Nightmare Moon and the Bloody Ploughmare that scared her the most. Dragons soared and roamed across storybook pages, sending the small filly under the covers at night, urging no call to dreadful adventure. She cowered at the mere thought of the perilous Everfree Forest that seemed just below her mountain home, and every night as a filly she would wait for the sun to rise again. When the nightmare of foalhood would wake her in the midnight hours of her youth, she would whisper the most fervent prayers to the sun goddess, and dawn would always come eventually.

She was told that the good Princess Celestia would protect her. She never doubted it. Her mother had told her stories about how beautiful, kind, and legendary the princess was. She never doubted those, either, for unlike the Headless Horse and Nightmare Moon, the sun goddess was a real creature. From the earliest age, she was basked in the life of Princess Celestia every time they simply existed in the same city, the princess' influence was that powerful. One need only to look up at the sky or step into the streets of any Equestrian city for a glimpse of her creation.

Raven's young days were filled with chess when the antics and chores of any schoolfilly were complete. Though a unicorn, and from a family of generations of unicorns, Raven did not have any strong disposition or interest in any of the ever-prominent magical arts. She had the prestige to get into the goddess' school but was content to focus on a different sort of education.

So maybe she would get her cutie mark in something else, or so she and her family thought. Chess was a possibility. She spent every afternoon playing against ponies in one of Canterlot's many parks when she managed to muster up the words to approach them. When it came to words, Raven was not good. Chess was a far different story, it was utter perfection — everything was as plain as Celestia's day and right where it belonged; every piece did what it was destined to and never anything more. That single, dear idea — everything in its right place. But as safe as chess was, it was still prone to the occasional surprise.

Raven's cutie mark was a surprise too. She did not get the game piece that she had been expecting — no king, queen, mage, rook, knight, or pawn was upon her flank. It had been the day before the Summer Sun Celebration when last-minute plans ruled the household and Raven internally begged for the neatness and management nopony seemed to abandon on any other day. Nothing was in its right place. She wrung her hooves and muttered prayers to the majestic sun goddess that her visiting cousins would not destroy the rosebushes planted by her great-great-grandmother. She thought that would be an important wish, and if the goddess, whose name every Equestrian used at some point in their lives, would be willing to protect a rose bush.

Through determination and the careful glances to this and that from a filly with a chess player's mind and eyes that color of chocolate that were as eternally demure as the rest of her, she found what needed to be done. What needed to be managed. Somehow, she wrangled all that chaos and brought harmony in its place. With a quill and parchment, she wove a schedule here and scribbled a list there. Ink dotted her pristine coat and dripped across her fetlocks and smudged her cheek and muzzle every time she had adjusted her thick glasses.

That had not been the only thing to appear that day. Two days later, her cute-ceañera was proof of that. She now had the mark — the great, unchanging mark — that told her something about her very soul, whether that was great or small.

Dizzy with excitement, soft-spoken little Raven still looked up to the sun through much of the celebration, at least when she could manage.

Had some of her prayers been answered?

...

Raven wanted nothing more to surrender her very soul to the noble cause of the chess club at her school. Her cutie mark was new, she stood with what her family called a greater air of respectability and she had exchanged bobs and the most immaculate braids for perfectly coiffed buns. They might have been odd for a filly her age, but they worked. Everypony in Canterlot, regardless of age, had some element of precociousness to their demeanor.

They worked better than her equally timid friends and any attempt Raven had previously made to overcome her nervousness. How could she ever hope to get into her school's chess club without being able to play a game with an existing member?

Raven had already poured all her courage into simply tearing away a flyer as neatly as possible and scuttling away. She wanted to do what's right, and joining the chess club felt right. It was in times of stress that a familiar Equestrian saying came to mind: what would Princess Celestia do? Princess Celestia always did the right thing. Princess Celestia had endless friends.

So... maybe Raven could too.

But Raven was also quite certain she was a big baby. The weight of Equestria's standards, Canterlot's standards, her family's standards seemed to follow her everywhere. She was a good filly, a respectable one. Never would she damage that. Yet, she heard tales of all the things that could come from social missteps from the more gossip-rife places of Canterlot. Magefolk, the talented, and wonderful things may have outnumbered the opulent and wealthy, but the city still had a rumor mill all the same.

Babies were the ones that slipped into one of the many exclusive gardens of the castle in search of their mothers, only to cry of frustration in the flower bushes.

Babies fell silent when they heard the most angelic voice singing and the most graceful hoofsteps.

Her cowardice was known to her, as was the state of her mane. From beneath the flower bushes she had holed herself under, Raven could see the cobbles where the mare should walk past her. The stones alternated between a dark and lighter hue as they formed the road that should lead anypony out of Princess Celestia's favorite flower garden.

Raven had sniffled and blinked with realization.

Princess Celestia's favorite flower garden...

The owner of the hooves she had yet to see was clear in her mind, and the filly was frozen with fear. She felt her blood run cold, her ears grow warm, and a few stray petals tickle her muzzle...

She sneezed.

...

All those years ago, there was nothing more terrifying than sitting in the shadow of a goddess and knowing that it was she who had gotten snot upon the flowers of a goddess. Compared to the mare with a coat that nearly looked luminescent because of its fair hue, Raven felt like an insignificant bar of soap, and one that was about to be slipped on.

As the good little filly she was, she stammered out every apology, kept her eyes and head low, and made no effort to act like she wasn't at fault for this.

The first lesson she learned that day was that Princess Celestia had little interest in trespassing children when they were anything like Raven, who was so small and meek. She may have been called the Matron of Equestria, but everypony felt a bit like her foal in one way or another.

Instead, she was asked why she was crying, and where her family was. Raven trembled before this mare, whose constant serene smile was crumpled into a look of faint concern. She was going to be in trouble, surely. The voice of the very goddess that moved the sun was now directed at her and it washed over her of all ponies.

When she was all through with explaining herself as a good little filly should, the Princess Celestia who presided over all of Equestria, and exemplified good behavior — Raven was certain that in the unknown past of the princess, she had never done anything so dire as getting snot on her flowers — looked calmly at Raven...

...and asked if she would like a tissue. It was an entirely reasonable request, of course! The filly nodded eagerly, only to learn that Princess Celestia still had more to say.

She asked if Raven wanted to play chess against her.

Together, they worked through the fifteen minutes it took young Raven to fully begin to process such a request.

She agreed, because what reason could there be not to? How could she disobey the highest authority in all of Equestria? With Princess Celestia's help, flowers were plucked from the garden and arranged on the alternating cobbles of the garden where only a few guards would lurk aside from them, unseen and ready to defend Equestria.

With a game board of flowers and stone, somehow, Raven managed to beat the mighty Princess Celestia at least once. Tears of joy stung her eyes, and she bid the princess a good day as the air of assurance that she could make chess club went with her.

She promised to return... and she got into the chess club, too, but just barely.

...

Princess Celestia was Raven's best friend. They had tea together, played chess together, and every birthday Raven received a ticket to the prestigious Grand Galloping Gala, presented to her through nothing short of a royally sealed envelope. She never was able to see her friend at the Gala, because she was always busy, nor could she manage to ever pull herself out of the shadow of a well-dressed crowd, but they were exciting all the same.

The princess had Raven's eternal thanks for more than just making splendid days, and the nights as well. Their friendship was the one that lasted. It was a peculiar friendship, in some ways. Raven was not exactly a pony of high society that one would expect to be so close to the princess that she could stand in her shadow so often, but Princess Celestia was also not the mare that Raven would expect to support her through having braces all her adolescence.

Thankfully, there was one thing that they could always count on the other for: never asking questions, or at least, Raven never asked Princess Celestia — she never called her anything less — about anything most friends would. She knew no more about the exact origin and early life of the mare than the history books did. The exact nature of this mare's cutie mark was a mystery. The only family that Princess Celestia had was the Alicorn king of a vast underwater empire far below the ocean's surface, but that was common knowledge.

What she did know, were little lists of favorite things. Colors, certain hobbies, and flowers. Other things, Raven never knew, and she supposed that could be a list in itself, if not volumes. The music the princess liked was never revealed to her, but Raven wondered sometimes if Princess Celestia was a mare who enjoyed a symphony... even if she never went to any in her spare time. She knew the princess enjoyed the culinary arts, even if she never cooked, and that she adored birds of all kinds. Raven even was able to feed Philomena as a foal, something that nopony but a Faithful Student could attest to.

In glimpses, Raven came to know the dissatisfaction the princess had with all of her Faithful Students. It was never something she showed outright, at least, not that Raven could see. One only had to see the way she looked at the unruly Sunset Shimmer — who Raven was close enough in age to, but didn't like — to know that there was great disappointment surrounding the unexpectedly punkish youth who was clearly not from Canterlot.

There was something hopeless about Sunset Shimmer every time Raven was able to see Princess Celestia's rose eyes.

Whatever she was looking for wasn't in the youthful lesser alicorn, Princess Cadance, either. It was only through the job of a lifetime, one woven into the complicated tapestry of the princess' relationships, that Raven came to know either of these mares, both her junior.

...

Raven, like most Canterlot ponies, had a first job involving the written word. Apprentices at a press, assistants to reporters, note-takers for this mage and that, authors, journalists, magical researchers, bookshop owners, and librarians were always in high demand in academia, as were others. The lifeblood of Canterlot was not the small fraction of the population who lived a life of obvious, flaunted luxury, but magic and the written word. That was how the rich came by their fortune in their first place — through the arts, army, airships, and academics. Canterlot was a beacon of history and the arcane, existing in a timeless state. There wasn't a school in the city without prestige or a park that didn't have at least one pony present buried muzzle-deep in a magical tome.

With her only experience being an informal secretary to friends and acquaintances, she never really expected Princess Celestia to ask about her skill — it was right on her flank. The princess had talked about her secretaries in the past, all of them held the esteemed position by working up the ranks. One of the stallions had even had the highest honor of being the lover to his goddess and leader.

Through chess, trust, and friendship, Raven became Princess Celestia's youngest-ever secretary, an accomplishment that would only see itself quietly added to trivia books to be found within secondhoof bookshops and whispers at glamorous parties.

One new apartment, ascot, and family party later, everything was official.

Everything would be fine.

No pressure.

...

So maybe Raven had a secret of her own. Yes, Princess Celestia had to have many secrets. There was so much she never said or did, and the castle grounds of Canterlot had many areas that only the princess was allowed in. She was new in those days but still knew not to question this. Barely not a teenager herself, the castle was its own world with its own history and a system that Raven dare not disturb when she could just blend in. She was still a good girl.

She just happened to like other good girls too.

It had been a nervous process that never rolled into anything really important until a year or two after the chess games and garden hours with the princess began. That was about all she could be certain about for a while: it began then.

Maybe it was because she went to such a good school and everypony wore a uniform. Maybe she noticed the other fillies wore skirts too, and how they did. Maybe in the more classical storybooks, that boasted they were the latest adaptation of this or that long ago Equestrian tale, with breezie gods-mothers, greedy dragons, and fair maidens, Raven realized just how much the maidens had her attention. Yes, of noble knights and their adored, rescued other halves, Raven felt captivated by those maidens. Their smiles were so gentle, their faces so lovely. She could see how they were swooned over!

Maybe it had not been at school or in the youngest days of fillyhood poring over storybooks she began to think about these things. Maybe those thoughts had always been there. She was only so sure.

These thoughts brought her to Cadance, a young mare only a few years younger than her who could laugh unlike anypony else, talked to everypony in the castle, and knew Princess Celestia in ways Raven didn't.

Maybe that last one bothered her just a bit...

She never told Cadance that. What she did tell Cadance — the Princess Cadance, as Raven always addressed her — was that she was who she was, and there was a mare on her mind. Princess Cadance was more well-versed in matters of the heart than Raven was in ways that astounded the little mare. This was the unheard-of miracle being trained by Princess Celestia, the second princess there ever was in Equestrian history: a once-pegasus from a sleepy town called Wispgrove living a grand life as a popular celebrity, royal, and unintentional history maker in Canterlot as soon as a horn showed up on her head. It was something truly astounding if a bit unnerving too.

Timid met talkative and let the latter advise the former. Princess Cadance did not ever look at her in a way that ever suggested such thoughts, but Raven wondered if she saw the same thing that Raven saw in her: one who had managed to work for her position when adventure came to her doorstep, and the other who was given everything without merit.

So maybe life was strange like that. For Princess Cadance it was filled with the world of magic that she had never known in the ways she did now, being swept from meeting creatures of all kinds, and a loving coltfriend. She foalsat, too, Princess Celestia had told her.

Raven didn't have the outrageous life Princess Cadance did, one that was as colorful as her coat.

She did, however, never recall a time she cried or stammered more than when she had finally come out — only to nearly be smothered in a hug by two equally tearful parents.

...

Raven prayed that Princess Celestia did not seek the life of adventure Princess Cadance was bound to have. School years had taught Raven that Princess Celestia had led a life of turmoil in the past. She was a history maker, who had defeated Discord, negotiated treaties, and stood aside from the other divine on what must have been just another day to her. Princess Celestia had seen a unified Equestria all by herself, and maybe even a time before then. The celestial bodies were under her lone control, even the much-feared moon in the sky that always made a much younger Raven think a wicked monster could descend on her.

The mare that Raven saw was better. She took tea, could create glorious scrapbooks, spoke kindly to nearly everypony, and was a pleasant, humble company. The princess spoke little of magic, but much of flowers. She knew small dances and how to do them properly and gracefully. Nopony could be more classy and well-mannered than the one who lived her life for everypony else. Their chess games felt like a union of their own, not that Raven would ever say that. Yet.

Stars above, Princess Celestia was punctual.

If that was not swoon-worthy, Raven was not sure what was.

What wiser pony could there be than the mare who knew what it meant to be good? Nopony, surely. In her life, Raven had met many good ponies. She had a loving family, nice friends, and anything a pony could ask for.

Almost anything.

But Princess Celestia was a beautiful, special mare. Raven knew her schedule, her favorite tea, and so much more. No matter how many things she hadn't even the faintest clue to about this mare, Raven knew that she would want every day to ensure her life was pleasant and as good as she was. To stay beside the Princess as she grew old was the one thing to aspire for above all else when you worked for a mare who overshadowed you in the most beautiful ways. Her shadow had become Raven's home.

Her whole life was spent managing another's. Raven understood Princess Celestia, who she owed everything and the highest respect. Never did she let this mare think she was ungrateful.

...

There were hints of things in the Princess that Raven did not see as nearly so desirable, but she was willing, oh-so willing to tolerate them if anything between them was to happen. She had a great sense of sadness buried somewhere deep within her. What it was about, Raven couldn't be certain — then again, how could mortals ever be certain with gods? She never got to see it, and it didn't seem as if anypony else knew. Such secretive behavior was also to be expected in a divine partner, and Raven wasn't sure if she was ready for that, but for Princess Celestia, she would try.

Of everything to really bother Raven, it was Twilight Sparkle that bothered Raven. No, it was how the teenage filly was handled. She was Sunset Shimmer's unknowing (and yet oh-so-obvious) replacement, and it was soon clear to Raven that whatever Sunset lacked, Twilight Sparkle had in spades. From the moment the dutiful filly had gotten her curious mark, Princess Celestia saw everything in her.

Twilight Sparkle, now that she was older, was beginning to see everything in Princess Celestia too.

Twilight Sparkle, who was an ant under the microscope of Princess Celestia, and thought that lens the sun itself.

Princess Celestia was what Raven considered to be a wise mare. That never stopped her from being oblivious to how a growing filly who spent all her previous time mooning over Starswirl the Bearded and Clover the Clever was now looking at her.

At Raven's goddess.

And Raven only worried how the princess would deal with such a thing, her own Faithful Student, smitten with her.

So maybe... if Raven had pulled her mind from the less-than humble romantic fantasies where she lived in the shadow of Princess Celestia as more than her secretary, then she might have really thought to acknowledge why it could be that Princess Celestia hadn't pick up on Twilight's behavior until much later.

Perhaps then, Raven could have spared herself.

...

Raven lived herself for somepony else and pined for her more when she stood right in her shadow more than she ever did when they were apart. She lived for approval not her own, and it ate at her like nothing ever could. When the moon rose in the sky, and the stars shone above her, Raven stared past her own muzzle and imagined Princess Celestia was not far above it, smiling down at her...

One day amounted to another, and chess games between them were now a heart-pounding torment that fits all too easily behind the pale face of a mare in the shadow of a goddess. Every day, that raw emotion, that adoration's true depths felt like they would just flop out of her, disgusting the mare she loved.

It's why she had to tell her, and tell her everything. Where better to spill her heart and tell-all than over the tea breaks they took together? Such a place would offer the only soothing atmosphere Raven would have, for even the gentle smile of the princess would be a source of stress.

Raven doomed herself with an invitation.

She simply had gotten the attention of Princess Celestia, and after a few lures of greetings and banter, she had her! The attention of the princess was hers... and with it Raven sealed her horrible, horrible fate that day.

"So maybe, you would like t-to talk more? Over tea? I've had something on my mind..."

Tea was taken.

Her tie felt like it strangled her, and her tongue like it might drop out.

It all lead up to:

"S-So maybe... y-you might consider a... a... lunch date?"

A date. A date-date. A romantic date. Her eyes pleaded.

Princess Celestia gave Raven a terrible gift: the sight of what she looked like when her eyes held a touch of sadness so clearly meant for somepony... and it was meant for her.

Raven was let down as gently as a mother lays her newborn foal down to sleep. She had clearly done this so many times before.

No, it was not because the princess simply didn't want to.

Raven looked upon mares and loved them... Princess Celestia was different.

Princess Celestia looked upon stallions and loved them. The exceptions just handsome stallions could be found in history, at her side, and in her shadow, but those were merely other sapient species. Each of those xenophilic lovers of Princess Celestia was still undoubtedly a born-and-bred male, something Raven would never be.

Raven accepted this because it was Princess Celestia, and when a goddess was involved, Raven could fathom no possibility of choice. She no longer had a move to make. That didn't mean she was certain she had recovered all the pieces of her heart from the gardens that day. The breeze must have blown some away.

You can get over rejection, Raven knew this.

But could anypony ever get over Princess Celestia?

...

Raven's aura died when she heard the door to her office click shut behind her. Evenings always had something so unbearable about them. The castle was filled with memories every time Raven looked at something, she felt the emotion that came with the sight. Her whole workplace was paved and insulated with thick layers of emotion that built up over the years, unable to be dismissed and inevitable. To go home every day, to go through Canterlot to free herself from the traces of sadness that were doomed to always follow her at the sight of anything that bound her to Princess Celestia so intimately.

To be away from the constant little bit of loss did more than just remind her of everything, bathing her in her own past, it was torturous. The halls of Canterlot Castle swallowed her so well. The shadow of Princess Celestia, who she never looked upon unkindly, was her home in ways that no other place was.

Even memories of foalhood spent elsewhere managed to find Raven here.

Somepony else had too.

Princess Luna was a rare sight to see. Her and Raven had little to say to one another, and Princess Luna also only seemed to talk to the staff of her own accord, rather than the constant everyday sociability of her sister. Something about the younger sister always struck Raven as unwelcoming. She was horribly asocial, with introversion like an unbreakable wall, and eyes that read right past you in ways that made Raven feel indecent for simply being looked at by the mysterious eyes of a goddess. There was something dark that had never deserted this mare. Not at all...

What could Princess Luna possibly want with her? She had little involvement with any of the staff, something that was strongly peculiar, and insisted upon independence. It was obvious she was powerful and prodigious, her magic was almost never dimmed.

This mare had a brain set on sorcery unlike any other, among whatever various eccentric qualities she had. Raven had spent more than enough time at the castle since the return of the younger goddess — who, as with her elder sister was never called anything less than her title and name — to know that unlike her sister, who slept mostly normally... she was different. She was apt to use her godly capacity to endure sleeplessness with ease in order to stay up both day and night, as though that were in any way normal.

A visit from the mare who considered large amounts of weapon plaques an important part of interior design was not a good thing in Raven's book.

As expected of her, she bowed quickly and mumbled an apology for staring at the floor for so long, smooth 'Your Majesty' this and 'Princess' that flowing with ease now that she was so accustomed to her work. Princess Luna was not her friend, not even remotely, but Raven would never neglect to show her the same formalities she showed Princess Celestia every single day. That was respect, and it was what good girls did.

Even after all these years, Raven never neglected to be good. If you do good, then good would befall you. It was nothing that would go disbelieved in Princess Celestia's Equestria.

Princess Luna just looked at her almost boredly. "You needn't do that," she said. "Such behavior is rather pointless from you, being Tia's friend."

Of Equestria's three princesses, yes, it was indeed this one that was the most strange.

"I-I apologize, then. What do you need, princess?"

At the customary, not at all improper use of 'princess', the Princess Luna gave Raven the most deadpan look, clearly begging to know why she did that, and yet, it didn't really look like she wanted an answer.

She was crazy.

"I think it would be best that you considered... perhaps a change in pace?"

No, no, no, no... Princess Luna c-can fire me, but she wouldn't! NO! She couldn't! She wouldn't, would she?! Princess Celestia...! What would happen...?!

Sweat was already trickling from underneath Raven's tidy forelock.

"See," Princess Luna pointed directly towards Raven's shaking forelegs. "You are a bit obsessed, no?"

There was such a sly touch to her words, like if somepony had called a hurricane a drizzle despite knowing the magnitude of things, and it was something that no other princess would speak with.

"I..." Raven's mouth was dry. The princess was pointing so directly at her, and yet so impersonally, too. "I live to serve you, princess. Anypony else here works for the same goal. I am only doing my duty."

"I know how you feel about my sister and just last night..." Princess Luna looked contemplatively at Raven, her forehoof now resting against a cheek in thought. "My sister may be the goddess of the sun, and I the goddess of the moon, for we had gained such domains together, long ago. Today I walk as the goddess of dreams, as well. It is a wonderful, and entirely new adventure I await, but Raven, I peered into your dreams as I roamed the dreamscape that no mortal could ever know. You have more than mere fancy for my sister, but an unhealthy, rather lusty obsession of years that is robbing you of a life you could be living, not some passionate love."

Raven could only look at the Alicorn with alarm. Dream-walking? Dream-viewing? Goddess magics? All were terribly powerful things, even if magic for dreams... well, it was clear by the words of the princess: it did not exist until she made it so.

And she had glimpsed some of what Raven dreamed...? And why was she currently refusing to speak with the Royal We that she used to keep a cool barrier between her and her subjects? Could any answer be obtained from this situation?

Hollowly, Raven looked at Princess Luna's forelegs. Unable to meet her gaze or watch her long, thick mane ripple as no mortal's ever would. One of Princess Luna's forehooves rubbed at her foreleg in a strange expression of awkwardness. She recalled how the princess had looked different when she was brought to Canterlot, and how her cornflower mane grew quickly, her coat darkened... and Raven realized she couldn't quite recall the exact transition of the goddess, just those details, like how she knew she currently focused on how she held her foreleg. It was a slight imperfection in something, oddly authentic and almost brazenly honest a movement.

"I have pursued no relationships in my life, but my friend, Cadance, has only further confirmed the worry I harbored upon the knowledge of what you do to yourself. You are in agony and a wheel. You do not quite live, do you? There is not obedience and inequality, or being removed to a shadow in love. Miss Raven, I think you are in dire need of a holiday. You burden yourself with your unhealthy thoughts. Clearly, this is a very personal matter, and it is not one I would be right to partake in... perhaps talk with somepony? Your family, friends?" She waved a forehoof in a small circle now. "A professional? Anypony?"

A pony who has never loved at all is now telling her that something is wrong...?

"Celestia cares for you, Miss Raven. She has not the mind to tell how those close to her are in so many ways. I have been there, in her shadow. I know. As her friend, I know she would be worried too if she thought this went beyond any of the more usual worshiping treatment she gets... and one that I get as well, but such reverence for the divine is to be expected, albeit with limitations. She refused you years ago, and yet you still are hurt and swamped by an attraction that chokes you rather than resembles anything Cadance or I could declare remotely healthy."

She still couldn't look at her. She couldn't speak. Her saddlebags, ready with everything she needed to go home rested atop her as though they were filled with bricks.

"What you crave is not healthy. If you have wondered if I glimpsed anything explicit in my travels across the astral plane of dreams, one that even I have only begun to know and unravel, I did not. I refuse to look upon such things. Such a dream in anypony is a bit like a plague to me, you see. I will have no part in them, for they are not meant to be seen by anypony. I peeked at something and I worried about my sister's friend, Miss Raven, and what you subject yourself to by your own hooves and mind. What progressed after my glimpse, I know not, but rest assured, I am no foul voyeur who aims to rip your precious privacy away..."

Nodding dully, Raven felt like her head was filled with cement. She had no clue what she was even nodding to. Knowing something as precious as dreams had not been violated was... good... as good as things were likely to get in this. Princess Luna's way of speaking... as though she lacked any desires at all was... odd.

She finally looked at the princess, but only briefly. Still, she saw a natural youthfulness that Princess Celestia had none of, nothing beyond the eternal youth of a goddess, and eyes that looked at her like her coat was glass. There was a wide curiosity to them, and an unexplained dark magnetism about this mare made Raven's stomach clench in dread. A long, vibrant blue mane with highlights of strange violet rippled in a way that felt so differently than Princess Celestia's.

She was tall. Taller than anypony. She looked worried. Princess Luna looked at Raven.

"Raven," she said quietly but with the same honest quality that Raven was starting to loathe, "please. Listen. That is all I wish. I fear you are in a terrible cycle. Will you not consider a holiday of some kind? One for your mind as well as your body? A vacation from my sister, and a small adventure for yourself?"

Raven's nervous little voice, the one tucked deep in the back of her head nearly screamed in terror at the thought of an adventure. She thought of untamed jungles, of cold places, of hot places, the terrible absence of order, misplaced schedules, monsters, bad weather, bug bites, terrible grueling feelings, sunburn, the Everfree Forest, and all the things she didn't like.

"I can... think about it," Raven squeaked when her slew of mental horrors was through.

Princess Luna sighed in relief but did not offer more than the tiniest of smiles, and it was not a friend-smile. It was nothing like Princess Celestia.

"I know you can make a good choice, and it will be good to hear of your departure. Your schedule is hardly going to be that busy, and Celestia will be able to survive without a secretary for a few days. She puts a bit much on you than is reasonable, and yet there is so much that she will never let you do." She scoffs slightly. "My sister can be a... very, very exasperating mare at times. I am sure you are aware of that, however, if only a little."

Not at all. She's perfect... she's always just been... perfect.

One glow of turquoise later and Luna wasn't there anymore. The halls of Canterlot castle had longer shadows, like teeth in the mouth of some colossus that had previously held Raven... and a ghost.

One white forehoof kicked at the floor.

...Securing a hotel in Manehattan for a few days with her connections would not be difficult. In less than a week, she could be back again. Manehatten had some fine history museums, and in them, exhibits, many featuring exhibits that contained anything on the life of Princess Celestia that was known and that was allowed to be released... though, there really wasn't a difference between the two.

Even if she could never have the Sun Goddess, she could know about the kind and outstanding mare she lost, filling her trip with that. It would be the closest thing she would have to Princess Celestia's company and their chess, for a time.

So maybe, she could figure something out.

She would never have the love of Princess Celestia.

But her shadow never refused.