//------------------------------// // 17: March No. 1 in D, "Pomp and Circumstance" // Story: Celestia XVII: The Broken Princess // by brokenimage321 //------------------------------// “Morning, Chef,” I said brightly.  “Your Highness,” Chef Julienne replied, surprised. I stuck my tongue between my teeth, then quickly poured out a dozen pancakes’ worth of batter on the grill. A few were a little lopsided, but that was okay. It gave them all a little character.  Chef nodded appreciatively. “If you weren’t Princess,” she said, “I’d offer you a job here in the kitchens.” She hesitated. “That is, except for…” I picked up the paper cup next to the griddle, then shook it, letting the liquid inside slosh around. “There’s a lid on it this ti-i-ime,” I said in a sing-song. “Besides,” I added, taking a sip. “Doctor’s orders…” “Do you still need all those peanut-butter milkshakes? Really?” “Have you ever regrown a full pair of wings in sixty seconds?” I asked. “I need all the protein and calcium I can get. Build my stores back up.” “Yes,” she said patiently, “but you needed it two weeks ago.” “Enh,” I said with a shrug. “Free milkshakes.” I scooped up some more batter, then quickly added ears to the pancakes. With a free hoof, I pulled a tray towards me. Balanced on top were a dozen little cups of sliced fruit, and, to one side, a list written in careful, precise hoofwriting.  “Lesse…” I muttered, consulting the list. “Apples for AJ, of course… strawberries and whipped cream for Flutters…” “Your Highness,” Chef said gently, “if you need some help with those, all you need to do is ask. After all, your friends are here for an official Palace function...” “Thanks,” I said, as I laid out the fruit, “but this is something I need to do on my own. Want to do,” I corrected myself. I looked back at the pancakes, then grimaced. While Chef had been talking, I had accidentally messed up the pancakes: Fluttershy’s strawberries had dripped all over Applejack’s apple grin. And Applejack hated strawberries.   I eyed it for a moment, then shrugged. Without another word, I scooped the ruined pancake up and tossed it in the trash, then poured out a new one. Because, after all, it was like Twilight said—friendship isn’t about being perfect. It’s about trying, and getting better.   I smiled to myself as I turned back to my list.  * * * “We are gathered here today, dearly beloved…” I said into the mirror. “‘To once again,’ “ Raven prompted. “No ‘dearly beloved’”  “We are gathered here today,” I quickly repeated, “to once again—Ow!” I yelped. I eyed my hairdresser in the mirror. “Can you please wait to brush out the knots until after I’m done rehearsing?” I asked.  “Can you wait to rehearse until after I’m done brushing?” Barbasol grumbled.  “It’s a big day, hon,” Emery said to him as she polished my hooves. “Go easy on her.”  “From the top, Your Highness?” Raven asked.  I swallowed. “We are gathered here to once again honor the heroism—”’ The door creaked open. “Your Highness?”  Raven sighed dramatically. “Yes, Captain Armor?” she snapped.  “I’m sorry to interrupt,” he said, “but I need a word with the Princess…”  “It’s okay, Raven,” I said, glancing at her in the mirror. “What is it, Shiny?” I asked.  Shiny looked at me in the mirror, then suppressed a smirk as Barbasol started to curl my mane. I shot a smirk back at him, and he nodded.  “I’ve just got word the Guard has tracked down another one of those chaos bunnies,” he said. “Ordinarily, we’d send them to Fluttershy, but, y’know…” he quirked another smile. “She’s out of the office today.”  I waved a hoof dismissively, earning a yelp from Emery and another growl from Barbasol. “Send it to the Royal Menagerie,” I said. “The warden should know what to do, more-or-less, at least until Flutters is free.” He bowed his head. “Of course, Your Highness.” He hesitated. “Also…” I looked at him again. “Something else?”  He nodded. “What should I do with all the ponies waiting in the hall…?”  I rolled my eyes. Probably all the bureaucrats who couldn’t last fifteen minutes without me telling them what to do… I couldn’t get a minute to myself, could I…?  But then again… I wasn’t alone anymore.  I stretched leisurely, eliciting a fresh grumble from Barbasol.  “Is Blueblood around?” I asked.  “No, Your Highness,” Shiny said. “He’s busy getting ready, too.” “Well then,” I said, “Send ‘em back to my office. Have Inkblot or Paperclip take care of them--or at least take a message. And, the new intern, what’s her name…?” “Pencil Pusher.” “Yeah, Penny,” I said. “See if there’s anything she can take care of.” I smiled. “If they’re going to stick around long-term, they’re going to need to learn the ropes a bit.  Shiny bowed. “Of course, Your Highness.” As he backed out, I smiled to myself. Sometimes, this whole Princess gig wasn’t too bad after all. * * * “Twilight!” I called.  I chased after her, but nearly stumbled on my dress. Rarity had made it special for the award ceremony, all white and gold and gauzy, and I looked gorgeous in it. Problem is, it wasn’t exactly made for running.  But still, Twilight heard my call. She stopped walking, then turned around and smiled. The sunlight streaming through the Palace windows glinted off her shiny new glasses, and made the  medal around her neck glow: the Order of Lancers, awarded for special services in the defense of Equestria. She, too, wore a dress, though much simpler than mine. But with that medal of hers, she didn’t exactly need to do much to stand out.  “Twilight,” I repeated, breathlessly, as I caught up to her.  “Cece,” she said simply.  I took several more gulping breaths, then smiled down at her. “I’m so sorry we haven’t talked,” I said. “I’ve been trying to find the time, but—” “I know,” she said, adjusting her glasses. “Equestria needs you more than I do.” I smirked. “A little,” I admitted, “though I’d much rather it didn’t.”  Twilight chuckled, and my smiled widened.  “What do you have going on tonight?” I asked. “Wanna do dinner? Catch up a little?” Twilight grimaced. “I can’t,” she said. “We already have reservations. I’d invite you, but I think Mom and Dad and Shiny want some family time.”  I nodded. “What about lunchtime tomorrow?” Twilight looked down at her hooves. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “Plans.”  “Oh?” I asked.  Twilight shot a furtive glance down the corridor, then blushed. I followed her gaze and saw, a little ways away, Fancy Pants and Fleur Dis Lee chatting to another pony in a tux; peeking out from behind them stood their son Arc, watching the two of us. I raised an eyebrow, and he looked hurriedly away.  “Oh,” I said. I looked away and gave Twilight a moment to compose herself. And yet, I felt a little grin creep across my face.  “Well,” I said, still looking away, “I can take a raincheck. As long as I can cash it in soon. I…” I swallowed. “I miss you, Twi. I really do.” Out of the corner of my eye, Twilight nodded. “Me too, Cease.”  I turned back to her, my grin widening. She hadn’t called me “Cease” in a long time. It felt… good. Better than I would have thought possible.  Twilight looked up at me and caught sight of my smile. She broke into a grin, too, then reared up and wrapped her arms around my neck. I stood there, stunned, for a split second, then wrapped my arms around her in return.  “I’m sorry I’m such an awful friend,” I murmured.  “No,” she said. “Yes, I am,” I insisted. “You deserve someone better. One who respects you, one who listens to you…” “Cece,” Twilight said sharply, pulling away from me. She held me at arms’ length and stared at me over the top of her glasses. “If anyone deserves a better friend, it’s you.” I started to shake my head, but Twilight interrupted. “I’m serious,” she said. “You know me—I don’t like arguments. If I know bringing up something is going to start trouble, I’d rather just leave it alone. That works fine, most of the time—but not when it’s with my best friend.” My ears perked up. Twilight, however, looked down and sighed.  “Yeah, you hurt my feelings,” she said. “Pretty badly, actually. But it still wasn’t fair of me to cut you off like I did—not to mention, me telling them to hold the Wedding with you still out of comission.” “Yeah,” I admitted, “that was kind of a dick move.” Twilight sighed, then nodded. “Yeah, it was,” she said. “And I’m sorry. But if you’ll let me, I’ll try and make it up to you. After all,” she said, with a little smile, “if we can’t let each other make mistakes, then how will we ever learn?” “Aw, stop it,” I said, wiping at the tears in my eyes.  “No, really. It’s like I told that monster,” she said, spitting the words. “You made mistakes—big ones—but you came back. And that’s what matters, in the end: not that we do perfectly, but that we keep trying. So I’ll make that promise to you,” she added. “If you let me keep trying, then I’ll do the same for you. Okay?” I wanted to respond, but I suddenly realized I couldn’t speak. Instead, I just closed my eyes, letting my tears run freely down my cheeks, then pulled Twilight in for a bear hug. Twi made a strangled little noise, then hugged me back and rested her head on my shoulder. We held each other like that for a while—I don’t know how long, and I didn’t exactly care either way. I probably would have just held her like that forever…  That is, if somepony hadn’t cleared their throat behind us.  I opened my eyes and looked up, and my face broke into a wide grin. Twilight’s friends stood, each of them with their medals, watching us. Fluttershy had tears in her eyes too, Pinkie Pie grinned like an idiot, and even Rainbow managed a satisfied little shake of her head. Rarity smirked at me, and I shot her an ugly look, which she responded to with a generous eye-roll.  I carefully set Twilight down, then nervously smoothed my dress. “Well,” I said, “that ceremony was something, wasn’t it, girls?” “You betcha!” Pinkie cried. “Now we’re official Knights of the Realm!” She stood up on her hind legs and made a few, playful thrusts at Fluttershy with a pretend sword, who shrank away.  “Not exactly,” interjected Twilight. “The Lancers weren’t—” “Oh, can it, you egghead,” said Rainbow with a smile. “Just let us enjoy ourselves for once, will ya?”  Twilight stood there with her mouth open, flustered, as her glasses slid down her nose. I just shook my head and laughed. And, maybe as a sign of what we’d been through together—perhaps something deeper—everyone laughed along. Even Twilight, who broke into a warm, genuine smile, and managed a chuckle or two as she straightened her glasses.  As the laughter died down, I shook my head, then smoothed out my dress again. As it rustled under my hooves, I suddenly whipped my gaze back up.  “Oh, Rarity!” I cried, reaching out. “I’ve been wanting to tell you! This dress is amazing!” I wrapped my arms around her, picked her up, and squeezed tight. “You’re the best—” “Watch the baby!” Rarity shrieked.  Her outburst caught me so off-guard that I dropped her back onto her hooves. She stumbled a little, but remained standing. She looked around sheepishly, then gave an uneasy little sigh.   “W-what did you say?” asked Twilight. Rarity smiled weakly, but said nothing.  “If I may,” said Blueblood, squeezing his way through the ponies, a small medal of his own around his neck. “I have something to tell you, Cece. Two somethings, in fact.” He walked up beside Rarity and squeezed her fondly around the shoulders. “Cece,” he said, “you’re going to be an aunt.”  It took several seconds for us to process what he had said. The first of us to get it was Pinkie, who let out an earsplitting shriek of her own.  “A foal?!?” she practically howled. “You and Blueblood are having a fo—?!” Rainbow clamped her hoof over her mouth—which only partially cut off her screaming—then turned to Rarity.  “Nice,” she said, with a lecherous grin.  At that, the floodgates opened. Everyone rushed forward and clustered around Rarity, everyone talking at once. Rarity, for her part, just held her head high and smiled, a warm, almost-matronly smile that, somehow, looked entirely at home on that face of hers.  I stepped up beside Blueblood, who had taken a step back, away from the chaos.  “Two things?” I asked him. “Twins?”  Blueblood’s eyes widened, and a faint look of panic crossed his face. “Oh, Harmony, I hope not,” he said. “No, I had something else. Here.” He slipped me a folded note. I opened it and scanned it quickly, my eyes growing wider with every word. I wadded it up quickly, then leaned over and kissed Blueblood on the cheek.  “Thanks,” I said. “Gotta go. Give Rares and Twi my love.”  “Geez,” he muttered. “That important?”  “Hopefully,” I said, as I hurried away.  * * *   I found Soarin’ on one of the balconies overlooking Canterlot. He was sitting on a bench, a cushion underneath him, admiring the landscape. I stood in the doorway for a second and watched it too; say what you would about dear old Princess Helia, but she sure knew how to pick out a good view. Canterlot stretched out below us, looking for all the world like a picture-postcard. Beyond it stretched the Canter Valley, with the River Kelpie cutting its winding way smoothly down the middle. Beyond, you could just barely make out Ponyville, and the Everfree Forest next to it; if you squinted, you might even be able to see something that looked like Cloudsdale in the far distance.  But Soarin’ wasn’t looking at Cloudsdale. He was focused on something a little closer to home. I followed his gaze, and my heart sank. Soarin’ was watching two little pegasus foals chasing each other through the air, making curlicues and loop-de-loops, shouting aloud for the sheer joy of living.  Involuntarily, I glanced down at Soarin’s back. He wore a blue bathrobe, with cutouts for his wings. His right wing was just fine, if a little unkempt, but nothing remained of his left except a bandaged stump. I swallowed hard, then took a step forward.  Soarin’ didn’t notice me until I walked up beside him. As soon as he saw me, his face broke into a wide grin.  “Your Highness!” he said. “I didn’t think you’d come.” I tried not to notice the dark circles under his eyes, and the fresh lines around his face that seemed to have appeared practically overnight. Instead, I sat down on his left side.  “Of course  I would,” I said. “I just didn’t think you’d be strong enough to get out of bed for another week or so.” He shrugged—a gesture that seemed to take far too much effort. “That’s what they said,” he replied. “But I always bounce back pretty quick.”  I nodded. “That’s good to hear,” I said.  We looked at each other awkwardly for a moment, then I turned and looked out at the view again. We were quiet for a while, before I shifted uncomfortably.  “I’m not sure I’ve properly thanked you,” I said. “That was very brave, what you did—attacking Discord, like that.” “Aw, it’s nothing,” he said. He waved dismissively—or, at least, he tried to. The gesture must have tweaked a muscle in his injured shoulder, because he grimaced and put his hoof back down. He had to take a couple painful breaths before he could speak again.  “Besides,” he continued, as if nothing had happened, “When I joined the ‘Bolts, I swore an oath to protect anyone who needed protecting. And, if I may say so,” he said, with a roguish grin, “it sure looked like you needed some.” I smiled weakly. For just a moment, an image flashed to my mind: Soarin’, hesitating, about to dive towards Discord for the final, fateful time. What was behind those goggles of his? Determination? Resignation? Fear?  I shook my head to dispel the image, then turned back to him. “Still,” I said, “you gave up a great deal to save me.” More than I deserve, I almost added.  “Well…” he said nervously, “you’re the Princess. Who else was going to raise the sun, if not you?”   I eyed him critically, and he looked away.  “And…” he added, “I would have missed you.” I smiled a little wider. “Oh, really?” I asked.  “...yeah,” he admitted. He looked down at his hooves, his cheeks reddening. “I… I like you, Celestia. Like, a lot,” he added quickly.  His words came out a lot more childish than he meant it, I’m sure—and yet, it still made me smile. I moved a little closer to him, then scooted one of my forehooves until it bumped against his.  “I like you, too,” I said.  He looked up at me, surprised, then quickly looked back down. “I don’t know why,” he said. “I haven’t been a very good boyfriend—Tartarus, not even a very good date.”  I looked over at him, and saw, to my surprise, that tears glistened in the corners of his eyes. “I’ve been… distracted,” he said. “Whenever we’re together, I find myself looking for something bigger, something better, something more exciting.” He smirked a little. “Comes with being a thrillseeker, I suppose.” He looked up at me, then reached over and took my hoof in both of his. “But I promise I will never take you for granted again, Celestia. You don’t deserve it. You’re too special to me.”  After a split-second, he looked down at my hoof, still in his. His eyes widened, and he dropped it, then shrank away from me the slightest bit.  “If you give me another chance, anyways,” he said miserably.  I watched him for a moment, and, slowly, a smile spread across my face.  “I’d like that,” I said.  Soarin’ looked back up at me, astonished, and I giggled a little. He smiled, then turned back to look out at the view again. After a moment, I joined him.  “So what are you going to do now?” I asked. He shrugged. “I dunno,” he said. “Spitfire’s already offered me a desk job with the Wonderbolts, but I don’t want to spend all my time cooped up in an office…” He smirked. “D’you think the Royal Guard would have me?” “My dad was in the Guard,” I replied. “Really?” he said with a smirk. “Does your family have a history of picking their husbands from the Guard, then?” I looked over at him. “Would you like that?” I asked.  The question brought him up short. He opened and closed his mouth once or twice, then turned and looked out at the horizon again. We both watched the view for a while in silence.  After a long time, I scooted a little closer to him. “You know,” I said, “usually, there’s a lot of paperwork involved in courting a Princess.” Soarin’ looked up at me in surprise. “Really?” he asked.  I nodded. “Mh-hm. There’s a whole application. Psych evaluation, genetic testing, the whole nine yards.” Soarin’ nodded slowly. And suddenly, his face lit up with recognition, followed immediately by a wave of fear. Courting, I had said. Most ponies thought it was the same as dating, but, when a Royal was involved, courting meant you were serious. Like, clear your calendar serious.  I chuckled a little, then draped one wing over his shoulders. “Good thing for both of us, then,” I said, “that I’ve never really been one for paperwork.” I looked down at Soarin’, and saw him staring back up at me, his eyes wide and glistening. I smiled, then leaned down and kissed him on the lips. Soarin’ leaned up, wrapped his arms around my neck, and kissed me right back.