Sun and Daughter

by brokenimage321


Chapter 3

The bell over the door dinged as it swung open, letting in two snow-dusted ponies and a blast of winter chill. The smaller of the two shook herself off, then, with the glow of her horn, began to unwrap her scarf, revealing the pink visage and golden-orange mane of Luster Dawn. 

“Luster!” came the cry from behind the counter. “You’re back! How’s life in the big city?”

“Afternoon, Mr. Filbert,” Luster called back, now unzipping her snow coat. “It’s fun.”

The elderly stallion behind the counter smiled. “They keeping you busy at that school of yours?”

“Yep,” Luster said, hanging her coat and scarf on one of the hooks by the door.

“The usual?” Mr. Filbert asked. 

“Yes, please,”

“Alright,” Filbert said, turning away with a chuckle. “One hot cocoa with sprinkles and extra whip, one free Hearth’s Warming cookie on the side.”

Luster cocked her head to one side. “Mr. Filbert,” she said, “you don’t need to do that.”

“ ‘Course I do!” he replied. “Not every day our favorite customer comes back from school!”

Celestia, towering over her daughter, quietly unzipped her parka, revealing the hoof-knitted turtleneck sweater she wore underneath. Luster, as one of the few children who called Bobsled home year-round, was something of a minor celebrity. The adults took extra care with all of the young ‘uns--there were few enough of them to spoil, after all. Nevertheless, she thought as she hung her circus-tent sized coat next to Luster’s, it warmed her heart to see how much Luster loved them back. It gave her a little hope for poor Luster herself…

“Hazel!” Filbert called into the kitchen. “Guess who’s home?”

With a squeal of glee, a plump little mare came bustling out of the kitchen. She saw Luster and squealed again, then dashed around the counter and picked her up in her arms. 

“Oh, we missed you—!” Hazel cried. Celestia noticed Luster roll her eyes, but her smile was warm and genuine. 

As Celestia passed the counter, Filbert gave her a subtle nod of greeting. Celestia returned the nod, and Filbert, almost casually, grabbed a second mug. Everyone loved Luster, of course--but they had more than a little regard for her mother, too. She had worked very hard to shed her celebrity status here in little Bobsled, and part of the reason she spent so much time at Hazel and Filbert’s was because the two of them had learned, more quickly than the rest, how much she valued discretion.

“So,” Hazel said, finally setting Luster down, “What have you been up to today?”

Luster smiled brightly up at her. “Just a little Hearth’s Warming shopping,” she said, as she turned to walk towards their favorite table. “And Mom insists on picking out my school supplies, of course.”

At the mention of the ex-Princess, Hazel didn’t even bat an eye. She would be getting an extra tip today, Celestia noted. 

“That’s what moms do, Dearie,” Hazel replied. “We always have to take care of our little ones, even when they’re not so little…”

Luster slid into their corner booth just as Filbert emerged from behind the counter, carrying a tray on his back. Celestia settled herself as Filbert dramatically laid the tray on the table. 

“One Luster Special,” he said, setting her mug on the table, followed by a small plate of decorated gingerbread cookies. Luster picked up her hot cocoa and took a sip--and, as she did, Filbert passed the second mug to Celestia. She accepted it quietly, and nodded her thanks.

“Good to see ya, kiddo,” Filbert said to Luster, then turned and walked away.

Celestia picked up her own mug and a long drink. It was full of Filbert’s specialty, a favorite of hers that she had introduced him to shortly after moving to Bobsled--Neightalian-style hot cocoa, thick and goopy as melted chocolate. She felt the warmth ooze down her throat and into her belly, warming her from the inside out. 

Meanwhile, Luster had set down her chocolate and started in on the cookies. “That was nice of them,” she said, as she bit off a gingerpony’s head. 

“It was,” Celestia replied. 

“Should we get them a Hearth’s Warming card?” 

Celestia nodded. “Already have.” 

Luster nodded approvingly, then turned back to her cookie.

Celestia had nearly finished her cocoa before she worked up the courage to ask her question. The question that had been burning inside her since before Luster had even gotten home, the one that, if she were brave enough, she would have picked her up and shook her to get an answer to the moment she walked through the door…

“So,” Celestia asked, as casually as she could, “how are you getting along with your teacher?”

Luster looked up with a frown.

“Who, Professor Applejack?” she asked. 

Celestia bit her lip. “No… your teacher-teacher.”

Luster frowned and cocked her head. 

“You know…” Celestia said, almost pleadingly. She licked her lips, then leaned forward. “Princess Twilight?” she whispered. 

Instantly, the temperature in the restaurant dropped by several degrees, in a way that had nothing to do with the gust of snow that blasted down the street. 

Luster waited several cold, frigid seconds before she answered. 

“The Princess isn’t really my teacher, Mom,” she said.

“She said she would be. In that letter she sent.”

“Yeah, but she spends so much time in Canterlot that I don’t really see her all that often.”

Celestia’s frown deeped. “That doesn’t seem very responsible of her.”

Luster rolled her eyes. “She’s been dealing with the Diamond Dog rebellions, Mom.”

Celestia raised an eyebrow. “There’s a rebellion?”

“It’s in the papers, Mom.”

Celestia shut her mouth and looked down at her cocoa, with nothing but the scratchy radio playing in the corner to break Luster’s accusing silence.


He had been the captain of a cruise ship. She, a particularly fetching stewardess. 

Celestia found that retirement didn’t suit her. She had chosen Silver Shoals primarily for Luna’s sake, feeling that the relative quiet would be good for her sister. Good for the rage, jealousy, and self-loathing that still filled her heart. And it had helped: with nothing on their schedule save for nightly games of bingo and shuffleboard, the two of them were finally able to get the sort of rest that had evaded them for centuries. 

But Celestia soon grew restless. Her sense of adventure would not allow her to stay still this long. There was too much to do to sleep the days away. So, she took her leave of Luna, and of Silver Shores in general, and made her way out into the world. 

She had fantasized for many, many years about what she would do once she regained her freedom, and she spent the next months of her life living every single one of them. She did a brief stint as a strongmare in the circus, a tour guide in a museum, and even a couple weeks as a park ranger on the shores of a lake in the depths of the mountains. It wasn’t until the following summer when she was able to enact one of her fondest dreams, however: being a crewmate on a cruise ship in the Bahamares. 

Shipboard life was much less glamorous as she had been led to believe. For one, she discovered that she wasn’t as immune to seasickness as she had once thought. And the humidity played merry havoc with her mane and tail. And, for some reason, she hadn’t expected the sheer number of tourists who wanted nothing more than to corner her and make small talk, all for the sake of saying that they and the ex-Princess had become best of friends--regardless of how many other tourists were still waiting for her to bring them towels and suntan lotion.

That is not to say there were no benefits to her position. The view, for one, was unparalleled. And it was surprisingly refreshing to soak in the sun without worrying about what time it was going to set. But the best part came after night had fallen, and the moon had started to rise. 

Captain Halyard cut quite the figure aboard his ship. He was a middle-aged unicorn stallion, perhaps in his forties or fifties, and had not an ounce of fat on his body. His bright-red coat shone like rubies in the sun, with little streaks of silver here and there making him all the more handsome. 

Their first evening out of port, he had invited Celestia to dinner in his cabin, purely as a courtesy to the ex-Princess. A week later, Celestia spotted him in the canteen, and invited him to share a sandwich with her. Two or three days after that, he invited her to his table for dinner again, and Celestia realized, to her own surprise, that she had been hoping he would. Soon, they were sharing dinner every night--and, even sooner than that, every breakfast. Sometimes, they even ordered room service.

When they finally parted at the end of the cruise, they parted as friends--though their friendship was the sort that would have made Twilight blush scarlet. Celestia had planned to go straight from the cruise ship to her next adventure, though, now that she was actually off the boat, she found herself strangely tired. And so, she decided to rest herself a bit first, in her own private villa on the beach. 

It took her another month to realize that her lingering nausea had nothing to do with seasickness.