//------------------------------// // 7. The Amulet // Story: Time Enough For Love // by horizon //------------------------------// Their first big argument came when Clover tried to set up an alchemical workbench in the keep. Celestia asked what in blazes he was doing to her home. Clover said he thought she would have appreciated his effort to help him spend more time there. She said he was making his work more important than her. He said that surely the Imperatrix was too powerful to act so needy. She shoved him into a wall. Wasn't it just like a mortal to overreact, she yelled when he limped outside and began staggering down the mountain. If she'd been trying to hurt him, he'd have gone through it. When Clover trudged into his room in Everfree Palace the next morning — still silently fuming — there was a jewelry box on his desk. He squinted against the reflected light of a sunbeam off the lid, walked up to it, and cautiously hoofed it open. There were two things inside. One was a square scrap of parchment, with two words penned in a spidery, classical script: "Turn once." The other made his blood freeze in his veins. It was a circular golden necklace with an inset triangle. Clover closed his eyes. The parchment in the violet glow of his field began to shiver, then spasmed and crumpled in on itself into a tight little ball. "Star Swirl," he whispered. "You son of a timberwolf." This was all wrong, he wanted to scream into the aether. Clover was madly, impossibly, dangerously something — but he had known all along how dangerous a game he was playing. No matter how much this felt like love, he knew, deeply and fundamentally, that he was fighting a ticking clock — he'd merely been allowing himself to get swept up in the illusion of permanence. As much as he yearned for Celestia's attention, as much as he burned for her touch, he would never be stupid enough to let this get to the point where he was capable of unleashing a prophecy on her … Clover sighed, a sense of inevitability seeping in. Who was he kidding? He was entirely capable of that. They didn't call him Clover the Clever because he was smart. But sorting out his emotions could wait — he had to test the amulet. The only thing more unthinkable than getting swept up in a doomed, deadly romance was doing it without even investigating the gift that history's greatest mage thought he would need. Clover lifted the necklace in his field, peering more closely at the central design. It wasn't a single piece — the triangle appeared to be a separate element from the outer solid gold ring. The triangle's top was flush with the inside of the circle, and halfway across its base was a skinny bar which jutted down to the bottom of the circle. It looked, in other words, like it was mounted on a vertical axis, capable of rotation. Clover prodded at the inset triangle with the edge of a hoof. It didn't move when he pressed in on the left side, but the triangle pivoted as he pushed on the right. It receded back to flat as he eased up his hoof-pressure, as if some invisible force was pushing back against him. He gave it a firmer poke, and the triangle spun out perpendicular to the circle, crossing the halfway point of its rotation and surging forward to snap back flat — — and Clover immediately sneezed, sending a cloud of dust billowing through the sunbeam. He blinked watering eyes several times, dust tickling his throat. The desk was empty. The jewelry box and the crumpled note had vanished. He turned around as his lungs started to burn with inhaled dust, and he realized with a start that his bed had been made. Clover staggered over to the door — rattling the handle, fumbling with the lock he hadn't locked, then finally pushing it open — and caught his breath in the corridor. Curious, he headed toward the throne room, only to nearly collide with Celestia as he rounded a corner. Her eyes widened. Her mouth fell open. Before he could say anything, she lunged at him, yanking him into a deep kiss. Then a sob wracked her throat. She took a step back, tears streaming down her face, and headbutted his muzzle. He heard a crack and felt liquid spurt into his nostrils, and a sharp sting lanced his ear where her horn had passed. "Aah!" he shouted, staggering back and sitting down hard. "Wha tha faah?" "You royal asshole," she shouted, the windows trembling, "you goat-spawn, you stone-eating addlepated … clever, stupid … frump, where have you been?!" She choked back another sob. "Nobody knew! I even called in my boon to summon Star Swirl, and all he'd tell me was that you'd be back, and to make sure Queen Platinum kept your room untouched!" Clover blinked tears out of his eyes, then fumbled for his robe and blew a giant bloody mass clear of his nose. "That son of a timberwolf. I think ah'm begidding to udderstahd." He blew his nose again, ignoring the shooting pain. "This isn't September, is it." "Uh," Celestia said, confusion overtaking her expression. She wiped her own nose with a leg, the fire draining from her wet eyes. "What do you mean? Of course it is." Clover winced. "Better question, then. How many years forward did his little gift send me?" Celestia stared for a moment, then bared clenched teeth. "That son of a timberwolf." Their make-up sex was extremely dusty, slightly bloody, and broke his bed. Lieutenant Pansy and Ambassador Cookie were quiet for a long time when he told them the whole story. "I'm going to destroy the amulet," Clover said. "No good can come of it." Cookie coughed. "Are you sure? The way that prophecy sounds, destroyin' it don't solve your problems." "Neither will keeping it. And I haven't seen either of you for a year." "I've missed — we've missed you, Clover." Pansy's ears flattened. "But, um. To be honest, we're not the ones that need you." Cookie fidgeted and looked down. "Yeah, the Imperatrix has been … uh … more'n a little terrifying this last year, tryin' to track you down. I guess you haven't heard about the Great Southern Wastes?" Clover's eye twitched. "… Well, they're a thing now. Point is, she's been a wreck without you, and as bad as she's been … she's gonna live for stars know how long, an' if Star Swirl thought she needed you now he wouldn't have given that to you in the first place." "And I'm going to ruin things if I use it. I told you what he told Luna." "An' you'll ruin things if you stay. So it don't make sense for that to be the thing that stops you trying." Clover exhaled through gritted teeth and flung his forehooves wide. "I can't believe this. What happened to 'gallop the other direction as fast as your hooves will take you'?" Cookie's ears lowered. "What happened is that you were right, okay? I thought she was gonna break you and move on. An' I don't know how you did it, but you've been gone for a year and she ain't moved." "Okay. Fine. But what about me?" "What about you?" Cookie said. "You got a goddess in love with you." "Yes, yes, she's perfection embodied, I'm the luckiest colt in the world, et cetera. Does that mean it's my responsibility to give up my entire life for her sake?" Pansy quietly cleared her throat. "Do you love her?" she asked. Clover moaned and cradled his head in his hooves. "I'm beginning to question whether that even matters," he finally said. "I think I've lost count of my brushes with death. And the longer we stay together, the more she expects me to keep up with her impossible pace. I feel like I'm slowly driving her to some sort of snapping point I'm not going to survive." "Okay, but that ain't what she asked," Cookie said. "I know." Clover stared at the floor, chewing his lip for a bit. "Cookie, what you just said, about her being in love with me? … I think it's true. She tries, stars damn it, she tries for me like I don't think she's ever tried for anypony in her life." "She does," Cookie said quietly. "That still ain't an answer." Clover let out a long sigh. "I know. I know! But those are the circles my brain keeps chasing itself around in. Of course I'm in love with her! That makes nothing about this any clearer." The room was briefly silent. Clover risked a glance up. Cookie was looking over at Pansy. Pansy was looking intently at the floor. "If it's love," she said softly, "then it should be clear. When you're in love, that's bigger than any sacrifice." "Should it be, though?" Clover protested. "What if what I'm chasing is impossible? What if I'm only going to drive myself crazy or break myself?" Pansy glanced up, blinking, then seemed to shrink back into herself even further. "I don't know," she mumbled. "I just think that, for somepony who's really in love, that doesn't matter." Cookie nodded. "I think I see what she's sayin'. This choice you're making, Clover, you gotta give something up either way. We're tryin' to help you find the way out of this with the least regrets." Clover let out a long breath, nodded back, then walked over to the window and stared out for quite some time. "I would regret dying," he finally said. "That's the first thing that came to mind. And I want to say, well, there's your answer, the answer that any sane pony would give. "But then I had to go and ask myself why I would regret dying." Clover sighed. "And all I can think about is her. Like … when we returned to Equestria, I took her to my secret thinking-place at the waterfall near the palace, and we just sat and watched the water run over the rocks, and she was crying. I'm not kidding, she cried and told me it was the most beautiful place anypony but Luna had ever taken her." His muzzle crept upward into a wry smile. "And then we get back to Canter Peak, and … well. She asked me to take a turn keeping the clouds by the fort bucked, and I told her I wasn't a pegasus, and she said I'd think of something, and I did. Then on a whim she started teaching me to juggle knives — by flinging them over my head and seeing how long I could keep up with them. Two days ago, I finally drank a full sip of dragonfire ale without vomiting, and when I tried to stumble to the privy, I ran headlong into the door frame and she laughed until she fell down. "And I already miss it. If I left, I'd regret that more than I've ever regretted anything before, for the entire length of my long and boring life. "So yes, Pansy, the old bastard was right — I am madly, impossibly, dangerously in love, and it's going to kill me. I have to leave. But there's no way I could look at her and say no. If I don't destroy this amulet now, I'm never going to work up the nerve." Pansy and Cookie exchanged a look. Clover's head drooped. "I … should at least try, shouldn't I? For her. You were right, I've got a problem either way, and if she still wants me this much after a whole year has passed …" Cookie stepped in, curling his neck to Clover's, and after a moment, Pansy joined the hug. "Sounds like 'now' is passin' you by," Cookie said. "I suppose you're right," Clover said, staring dully down at the circle of gold. "I'm happy for you," Pansy whispered, not meeting his eyes. "Follow your heart." Cookie chuckled. "Exactly. Ain't that what being clever is all about?" In their second big argument, Celestia threw him through the bookshelves he'd lugged up the mountainside to sit alongside the workbench. Clover stood up on three legs, teeth gritted in pain, tears streaming down his cheeks. Celestia snarled ferally, dropping to a half-crouch and facing him head-on. He had to light his horn twice to unlace the strap on his saddlebags, and as she stared at him in silent challenge, he floated the golden necklace out and fastened it around his neck. "If you ever lay a hoof on me again," he hissed, "I am gone for good, Imperatrix. And I strongly suggest that you spend the next year thinking of an appropriate apology." As Clover grasped the triangle in his magic, recognition dawned in her eyes — to be immediately replaced with fear. Celestia shot back upright. "Wait!" she cried as he twisted the triangle around its axis, and as she lunged — — the fort on Canter Peak wavered and came back into focus, with six unicorns in physicians' robes standing off to one side, a white alicorn slumped forlornly on her bed, and a midnight-blue alicorn impassively sitting alongside it. Celestia's head shot upright, followed by the rest of her. Clover flinched and took a step back. Predictably, his broken leg exploded in pain, and he crumpled to the floor with a whimper. The next few minutes were a blur of medical attention. Along with the broken leg, the physicians quickly diagnosed and set four cracked ribs, and cast several layers of spells to dull the pain and reduce the swelling of the bruise developing along his entire left side. The entire time, Celestia paced along the far wall. Luna sat in stony silence. Finally, the head physician stepped back and nodded to Celestia. She lunged forward like a pouncing cat, flattening herself at Clover's hooves. "Luna! Witness me," she said, and bowed her head. "I swear by the strength of my hoof, I swear by the speed of my wing, I swear by the magic of my horn, thrice I swear, thrice and done." Her head drooped and her voice briefly hitched. "Clover the Clever, never will I raise hoof nor horn to harm thee. By the power of my tribe, bound I am by word and spell and law, until the end of days. So mote it be." "So mote it be," Luna echoed, eyes burning into Clover's, face an unreadable mask. And at the words, Clover felt the whole room stir with old, deep magic. He felt his eyes begin to tear up. This time, it had nothing to do with pain. Clover leaned down to delicately kiss the tip of Celestia's horn. "Apology accepted," he whispered, and smiled when Celestia let out a shuddering breath of relief. Then a throat cleared from one side. Clover glanced up. Luna had stepped forward herself, looming over him with wings flared out. She lifted one hoof slightly from the floor, crooking her pastern outward, and added in a voice of quiet iron: "I took no oath, mortal, so instead I offer a promise: Break her heart and I will end you." Celestia immediately shot to her hooves, eyes widening. "Luna!" Luna turned coolly to her sister. "You are welcome. I will never let any pony take advantage of you." Celestia's horn flared to bright life. "You will not speak that way to my lover!" she thundered. Clover scrambled backward. The physicians did, too — their expressions suggesting that they wished they could be someplace safer, like a hungry dragon's cave. Luna stared at Celestia, not moving a muscle. Celestia's snarl contorted into a grimace. Finally, her horn sputtered out, and the sudden heat in the room began to recede. Clover remembered to breathe. Celestia stepped between them. "Don't you ever talk to Clover again," she growled. Luna gave Clover an emotionless glance over Celestia's shoulder. "I assure you, sister," she said, "I shall have neither need nor desire to do so, save for matters of life or death." "Good." Luna nodded curtly. "Then I trust the matter is settled." "No." Celestia's horn flared anew, but this time, it was merely to rip the fort's heavy stone door off its hinges, sending a gust of mountain air into the room. "Because how dare you. Get out." For the first time, Luna's face registered emotion — eyes widening in shock, muzzle twitching. "How dare —" she repeated, sputtering, then leaned forward as her expression curled into indignation. "How dare I protect you, sister? Do you even know what this colt will —" "No," Celestia interrupted. "Don't care. Out." "But you —" Luna's face contorted, then her eyes snapped closed and she took a long breath through her nose. Pain twisted her features for a moment, and she took another breath to even it out. "Celestia," Clover murmured through a dry throat. He had absolutely no idea what to say, but saying nothing felt wrong. It was strangely relieving when Celestia sharply held up a hoof to silence him, and he backed away without protest. When Luna opened her eyes again, she nearly seemed to be winning her struggle with composure. "Sister?" she asked. "Do you truly think I do this out of anything other than love for you?" Celestia said nothing, pointing toward the door. Luna let out a breath, and her posture deflated along with it. "Then out of love for you I will depart. And I will not regret leaving —" she looked directly back into Clover's eyes — "because sometimes love requires the greatest sacrifice." Clover's stomach twisted. What did she think he was doing? Did she think that it wouldn't be easier for him to run screaming from the whole mess? Celestia, for her part, barked a sharp laugh of disbelief. "Really, sis? You think after what I just did, I don't understand sacrifice?" "No," Luna said. "But you will." Her jaw trembled, and she added softly: "And when you do, dearest sister, I promise I'll be there for you." Then she turned and plodded heavily away — shooting Clover a brief, dark glare. As she left, the door glowed gold, then slammed back into place with a roar that sent mortar-dust showering down from the ceiling and made every pony but Celestia flinch. "Sorry about that, Frumpy," Celestia said lightly, then lunged in to hug him with such desperate need that it nearly unwove the healing spells. He clung back, mind spinning furiously. And when her lips clamped to his, losing himself in that and letting those thoughts spin away was far easier than conversation.