//------------------------------// // Rarity: Friendship With Benefits // Story: Celestia XVII: The Broken Princess // by brokenimage321 //------------------------------// There are, of course, a number of benefits to recommend being engaged to royalty. Fame, prestige, the biggest diamond you’ve ever seen on an engagement ring, and so on—not to mention other, more important things like companionship, happiness, fulfilment, and, of course, finding your soul mate in the pony you once thought least qualified for the job. Can’t forget that. But one of the lesser-known benefits is the Palace itself. Whenever I can get a weekend away to come up to Canterlot, all I have to do to find accommodations is to write a letter a few days ahead of time, and I can walk straight off the train and into one of the plushest suites the Palace had to offer. This is especially useful since, as an established businesspony, I can’t just up and move, willy-nilly. I need a place to work, not to mention a decent storefront with big bay windows, a suitable location on a streetcorner, sufficient hoof-traffic, and so on. And finding a place like that takes a great deal of time and legwork—hence, why it means so much to be able to get accomodations anytime I needed them while still on the hunt.  Of course, I usually end up sharing Prince Blueblood’s room whenever I visit—but that’s proved to be less of a hardship than one might otherwise assume.  So once again, I had decided to take advantage of this particular benefit: I had scheduled a romantic dinner for two on Friday evening, an appointment with a realtor for Saturday afternoon, and a nice, luxurious visit to the Spa back in Ponyville on Sunday morning, to aid in my recovery from my little working vacation. I was looking forward to quite the enjoyable—not to mention productive—weekend. At least, until I walked into Blue’s bedroom to drop off my things, and found Blue himself frantically packing.  “Oh, hey,” he said, embarrassed, as he shoved a pile of t-shirts into his suitcase. “I thought you were coming by later…” “I was,” I said cautiously. “But my last fitting of the day wrapped up a little early, so…” Blueblood smiled weakly, then ducked into his bathroom, leaving the door open behind him. I followed, and saw him forcing a jar of mane cream into his toiletry bag.  “What’s going on?” I asked.  “Something’s come up,” he said quickly. “I have to head out soon… and I’ll be gone all weekend. Sorry,” he added. “What sort of something?” I asked.  Blueblood’s ears drooped. “Emergency… negotiations… with the, um… griffons,” he said haltingly. “Trade deal’s fallen through, and they—” I rolled my eyes, then stood on tip-hoof and kissed him on the cheek. He froze, mid-sentence, and his expression relaxed into a goofy smile.  “That convention you wanted to go to is this weekend, isn’t it?” I asked.  His smile faded a little. “Yeah…” “And Shiny managed to get you some last-minute tickets, didn’t he?” He cringed. “They’re previewing the next edition...” he admitted.  I smiled. “Dearest, go play your games,” I said.  He stared at me, uncomprehending, for a long moment.  “I mean it,” I said. “I’ll be okay.”   Slowly, he broke into a wide smile.  “Tell me,” he began, “did you really remember that GameCon was this weekend, or…?” I grinned. “I saw your suitcase. You only pack your pencils when you have one of your Vampony games…” “Ogres and Oubliettes, actually,” he corrected. “Shiny’s convinced me to play a Warlock, and—” “Yes, Dear,” I said, patting him on the cheek. “Now go finish packing.” “You’re sure you’ll be okay?” he asked.  “Of course!” I replied. “Maybe you could do something with Cece,” he suggested. “She doesn’t have anything going on tonight, I don’t think… might be nice to keep her company...” I frowned thoughtfully. “That’s a good idea,” I said. “After all, it would be nice to get to know my future sister-in-law a little better…” He smiled. “Sounds great!” He bent down and gave me a quick kiss. “Thanks again for this,” he said. “You sure you’ll be okay?” “Of course!” I replied. “Though you’ll have to make it up to me next weekend.” “With pleasure,” he said, smiling.  “That’s the idea,” I replied, with a roguish grin. * * * “So that’s how it happened?” gasped Celestia. “Yes!” I cried, laughing. “She stole my diary, and reprinted it in her school paper!” Celestia threw back her head and laughed. “Her school paper? Ponies magazine got your journal from a school paper?”  “Sweet Harmony, yes! I just about died…”  The two of us were in Celestia’s bedroom. Just as predicted, Cece had nothing going on, so the two of us had decided to have a good-and-proper sleepover, like we were fillies again. So, after a greasy takeout hayburger apiece, a sappy romantic play, and a half-hour of stallion-spotting in the Canterlot main square, the two of us had finally returned to the Palace. I had convinced Celestia to help me try out a new beauty routine I’d read about in Cosmare—hence, why Celestia currently had her mane in a towel and a green mud-mask on her face, and was lying on her bed with her forehooves dangling over the side. I, with a file in the grip of my magic, was in the middle of working on her hooves when she started asking me about Ponyville. Hence why we both found ourselves laughing about the most recent, and most stupid, thing that Sweetie Belle had done. Cece wiped a tear from her eye. “S-so, what did you end up doing?” she asked.  I shrugged. “Oh, you know, the usual—gave her a lecture and let her go.” Cece looked at me quizzically. “Let her go?” I nodded. “Mh-hm. I think Twilight must be rubbing off on me, with her friendship studies…” She cracked a grin. “Oh really?” she asked. “I’m sure we could still find a way to prank Sweetie, get at least a little revenge…” “Though that is, indeed, quite tempting, Your Highness,” I said loftily, “I am doing my best to take the high road in this matter.” She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, if you have to, I guess…” “Though I do reserve the right to tell any of her future coltfriends about the incident, of course,” I added.  Cece burst into laughter, the sort of joyful, infectious laughter that you can’t help but join in on. We laughed for a while, the two of us, until Cece got a bad case of the hiccups. The sight of her, laughing and crying and hiccuping all at once, made me laugh even harder, but still, I managed to climb to my hooves and find her a glass of water.  After both of us had calmed down, I went back to filing the Princess’s hooves. She watched me work in silence for a few moments, then she licked her lips.  “So, speaking of gossip,” she began carefully, “how are you and Blueblood doing?”  I stopped filing, then looked up at her suspiciously. “What exactly do you mean?” I asked.  “Oh, you know,” she said, gesturing vaguely. I grimaced. This was the one subject I wasn’t prepared to discuss with her… not if she was asking what I thought she was, anyways.  “Things have been going well,” I said carefully, focusing on filing down a tough spot on her hoof. “Though I expect you know all that, if you’ve been following along with the magazines…” “Yeah,” she admitted, “But, y’know… it’s not the same as hearing it from you…” She smirked. “Is twoo wuv as magical as Pinkie says it is?” I winced—but then, a thought occurred to me. I paused my filing. “I suppose I could ask you the same question,” I said.  Celestia frowned. “What do you mean?”  “Oh, you know,” I repeated with a sly smile. “How are things with you and your Wonderbolt?” Celestia looked away. “I don’t wanna talk about it,” she said.  “Why not?” I asked. “He’s handsome, he’s dashing… and besides, fair’s fair…” She shrank back a little, and looked down at her hooves. “It’s… not going well,” she said. “He’s nice… but I don’t know if he’s… who I need…” I looked at her quizzically. “Whatever do you mean?” I asked.  “He’s just so…” she gestured helplessly. “Flighty. And no, that’s not a joke,” she added, shooting me a look. “Whenever there’s a problem, he flies away. Leaves it for someone else to handle. Even when that problem is us,” she said miserably.  I winced. “You can’t hold it against him to much, though,” I said. “After all, most pegasi are that way, at least after a fashion. Comes with having wings, I suppose…” I filed another stroke or two at her hooves. “You know,” I added, “I actually dated a pegasus once… Thunderlane? Have you met him?” I looked up at her; she was still staring quietly at me, eyes cold. “Well,” I continued, suddenly uncertain. “He, at least, made for a good date. Flighty, yes, but impulsive, too, in a good way. Made things exciting. We could be walking through the park, just enjoying each other’s company, and, before I fully understood what was happening, we’d be watching a play together. Or racing paper boats. Or flying through the clouds, his arms wrapped around me, going to explore some waterfall, or cave, or…” Cece’s hooves, in my grip, pulled back slightly. I looked up and saw her glaring back at me—this time, her eyes full of cold fire.  “But that’s not what you need,” I added quickly. “It’d be fun, yes—but you need a little more stability. When a storm comes through, you need someone to lean on, not someone who’s going to fly off and try and catch the lightning.” I sighed. “In fact, if memory serves… that was part of the reason why things didn’t end up working out between dear old Thundey and I…” A little bit of a white lie… but we do what me must to help those we love.  “So,” I said, setting down the file and picking up a buffing sponge, “your Wonderbolt’s out, then. Who else do you have your eye on?” She shrugged again. “I dunno.” “Oh come on, there has to be somepony...” She sighed, then looked up at me. “...Do you know Big Macintosh?” she asked.  I smiled. “Yes, and no.”  “What does that mean?” she asked.  “Yes, I know him,” I said, “And no, he’s not a good choice.” “Why not?” she replied.  “First off, he’s too old for you,” I said. “Twenty-five or twenty-six, at least. And second, every mare in Ponyville already has her eyes on him—present company excluded, of course.” “Of course,” she repeated.  “Besides,” I continued, “he’s already pining after one mare—the local schoolteacher, of all ponies. Do you know her?” “Cheerilee?” she said. “Yeah, we’ve met…” I nodded, then made another few strokes with the file.  “What about Captain Armor?”  I asked. “What about him?” she replied.  “Well,” I continued, “he’s tall, and strong, and good-looking… plus, Twilight says he’s great with foals…” Celestia stared, uncomprehending, for a second or two, before she made a face.  “Ew,” she said. “You really think—me and Shiny?” “Why not?” I asked.  She scowled. “Rares, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he’s my brother.” “Step-brother,” I corrected, gently.  “Oh, gross,” she cried, yanking her hoof away from me. I jerked back in surprise.  “Yeah, he’s handsome,” she continued. “And yeah, he’d be a good husband. But that’s—that’s just weird. I grew up with the colt, Rares—even if his parents never officially adopted Blue and me, he’s still my brother.” I nodded. “Then I suppose that the same reasoning goes for—” A half-second too late, I realized what I was saying. I shut my mouth and looked away. Cece narrowed her eyes.  “The same goes for who?” she asked.  I cringed. “It’s just… there’s rumors… in the magazines and all…” “Rarity,” Cece said dangerously. “What rumors?” I took a deep breath. “Well… they say… not that I believe it, you understand…” “Rares.” I sighed. “They say there’s a… a bit of a thing between you and… you and Twilight.” I risked a glance upwards. Cece was staring back at me, her expression blank.  I held the sponge up defensively. “You have to understand,” I blurted. “All that time you spent together as foals? All those late-night letters? All those afternoons you’ve spent pining for her? You have to admit, it does look a little… odd...” Celestia sat up. “Rarity,” she said, her voice cold and hard, “that’s not funny.”  I stuttered to a stop, then made an uneasy sort of twittering noise.  She swallowed once or twice, then spoke. “Twilight is my best friend,” she said carefully. “And I love her to death. But that doesn’t mean I…” she gestured vaguely “...y’know.” “Y’know,” I repeated. “Besides,” she continued, “That would be like somepony saying that you and Sweetie Belle—” I thought about it for a fraction of a second—then wished I hadn’t. “Exactly,” she said, jabbing a hoof at me. “Twilight is my best friend. More than my best friend—sometimes, she—she’s almost a sister. But I never—-” Cece stopped, shook her head, and took a deep breath. “I need to find a stallion, someday. Gotta carry on the Royal Lineage and all that. But I also…” she swallowed. “...I also want a stallion. You know what I mean? I’m just, y’know…” she shifted uncomfortably “...waiting for the right one to come along.” I watched her for a moment, then nodded. “I understand,” I said. “My apologies.”  She sighed heavily, then flopped her head down onto her arms. “No worries,” she said. “Just… dating sucks.” I nodded. “Indeed, it does.” She turned and looked at me. “You’re lucky you don’t have to do it anymore.” I smiled a little. “I am.” “Just…” she sighed. “If you happen to hear any more of those… rumors… about Twi and me? Can you try and squash ‘em?” I lifted my snout a few degrees. “I shall use all the talents at my disposal to invent a parade of suitors for you to dally with,” I said imperiously.  She cracked a small smile. “Thanks, Rarity,” she said.  “That’s what sisters are for,” I said.  Her smile widened. “I’ve never had a sister before,” she replied.  “That’s perfectly fine,” I said. “If I say so myself, I’m pretty good at teaching others what it means to be a sister.” Her smile widened even more, and she sat up a little.  “Now come here,” I said. “I think you’re just about ready for the clear coat.” “Ooh,” she said, extending both her hooves. “Sounds fun…”