//------------------------------// // Chapter 3 // Story: Biological Clock // by Hasty Revision //------------------------------// Conventional wisdom held that the anticipation of a dreaded event was often worse than the event itself. Long experience had taught Celestia that, while this was true more often than not, the exceptions to that rule were often the cruelest of all. No amount of dreadful anticipation could be worse than the actual moment when a mare watched her little sister's heart break. Luna liked to poke fun at her for her constant redesigns, or fawning over names, or any of the other silly things she'd gotten up to since deciding to try for a foal. Yet several sketches of cribs and mobiles bore her signature. Dozens upon dozens of names on the overlong list were written in her elegant, looping script. And countless nursery designs featured her glittering constellations on the ceiling. The sadness for a dream lost was awful to see. The moment when sadness turned to guilt and shame was so much worse. “Luna, it's--” “It's not my fault.” Luna took a step back. “It's not.” A tentative flicker of hope caught light in Celestia's chest. “No, of course it's not.” “You were busy.” “That's right.” “Leading Equestria alone was hard work.” “Yes, it was.” “And if I'd been there--” “It wouldn't have changed that,” Celestia declared. “A child takes so much time and devotion. Single parents with ordinary jobs already struggle to strike the right balance. Even together, leading Equestria was no ordinary job.” “Cadance-” “Has a husband, and in-laws, and friends all ready to help, and fewer citizens to look after than the mayor of Manehatten.” Celestia rose to her hooves and took a tentative step closer. “Could you imagine me asking Twilight to foalsit for me ten years ago? I might have lost her to a heart attack on the spot!” That didn't get the smile she'd hoped for. Luna's eyes were downcast, yet darted back and forth as if searching for some revelation from the floorboards. Her ears flitted between drooping and pinning back as each new thought set her mood spiraling in some horrible new direction. She needed to be snapped out of it, quickly. “Luna, it's--” “Swear it.” “I-- swear what?” Luna looked up, eyes desperately pleading. “Swear that there's nothing more.” A prickle of dread crawled up the back of Celestia's neck. This was thorny territory indeed. “Can you be more specific? I don't want to mislead you with a misunderstanding.” “Swear to me that it was only your duty to Equestria that stopped you from having a child when you were younger, after I was gone.” Relief flooded into Celestia's heart. There was still an honest way out of this. “There are other reasons. Back then I would have needed to take a husband to have a foal. The scandal of an illegitimate birth would have been more than I had to clout to withstand in those early years. I'd have been forced to open the throne, and myself, to all the politics and influences that a union would bring.” She turned another step into a steady creep closer to her sister, who looked down again to avoid eye contact by the second sneaky inch taken. “I'd have created a dynasty, Luna. A line of heirs no different from the old unicorn kingdom, with no more promise that any would be worthy rulers than they'd ever had. And it would have been an affront to both the earth ponies and the pegasi to chain them to such a royal lineage after the founders worked so hard to strike a balance between the ways of the old nations. They were dubious enough of us taking our thrones, even with a constitution to protect them! “And who could I have wed? To take a lover from any tribe would've been seen as an insult to the other two at a time when peace between them was still a novelty. And to marry just for a child, to a politically convenient stallion who I might have felt nothing for? Who might himself care nothing for our child but as political leverage? And then the terrible risks of bearing a child in those days. To lose them, or to be so weakened in labor that I couldn't lead or defend myself against opportunists… “No, Luna.” Celestia closed the gap by another step. If she could just get a wing around her… “I couldn't have had a child then. By the time I created an Equestria I'd have felt safe having a child in, it would have already been too late. And I no longer had the time, regardless.” Luna kept her eyes low. “And is that all? Do you swear there was nothing more?” Celestia's approach stalled while she swallowed the bitter taste clawing its way up her throat. Luna wasn't going to let this go until she got what she wanted. Worse than that, she might not let this go until she got what she'd already convinced herself was true. She was left with a question she'd asked herself more times than she could ever hope to count over the last thousand years. How do I lie without lying? “I could stand here all day and lay out more and more specific reasons--” “Stop it!” Luna stomped hard enough to crack the floorboards. “You know what I'm asking, so just answer me! Swear to me that I'm not-- S-swear that it wasn't--” “Luna, please--” Celestia tried to close the remaining gap, wings reaching out, but Luna pulled even further away until she stood just beyond the pantry's threshold. Brimming tears threatened to spill down her cheeks at the slightest urging. “Swear to me that you weren't waiting for me.” “Please, listen to me, Luna--” “Swear it!” “It's not your fault!” “THEN SAY THE WORDS!” The force of Luna's Voice struck like a tidal wave in the confined space. Celestia staggered into an involuntary rear as the gust caught against her wings and chest, only stopping when she smacked the back of her head against the frosted dome of the ceiling lamp. Her forehooves found the floor again alongside a flurry of shattered glass. Neither noise covered the snap of Luna's teleport, or the sharp gasp she'd made just before it. She was probably up in her room, in tears, before Celestia had even fully processed what had happened. She hadn't gotten much further before she heard her guards kicking in the front door. She heaved a leaden sigh that ought to have plunged clean through to the basement floor under its own weight. So much for breaking the news gently. “Please let me in, Luna. I'm not-- ah! Angry. It wasn't as bad-- ow! As it looked. Please, sister-- nh!” Celestia twisted to glare at the unicorn guard next to her and his hateful little tweezers. “Would you please stop that?” The guard medic dropped a ruby-stained sliver of glass into the completely unnecessary medical waste bag floating beside him in his navy blue aura. “Sorry, ma'am, orders are orders. Please hold still.” “Ugh, honestly, I'll be fine. This is barely a scratch.” She raised her voice slightly on the latter part for her sister's benefit. “Her Majesty's orders in the event of an injury were explicit. Now, hold still.” Celestia narrowed her eyes. “I didn't surrender all of my authority, you know. I may not hold court, but I'm still a princess of Equestria.” “You're free to file a reprimand for my next review. In the meantime, I'm your medic, and you have glass in your head. Now,” Celestia reluctantly let his magic bring her head back down to where he could see what he was doing, “hold. Still.” “As I was-- nk! …Saying. I just want to talk to you, Luna. It's-- ow! Ow! Either stop it or hurry up! I don't have time for this.” The medic snorted. “When did you ever have time?” “When did you get so surly, Quick Splint?” “When you appointed me to your personal guard, that's when.” Splint's tweezers dove back into her mane. “That's when I realized what a full time job it was keeping you in one piece.” “Oh, don't be ridiculous.” “Ridiculous is thinking that just because you don't age that you don't have to worry about long term consequences. You should be in the hospital right now instead of camping out in front of your sister's room over whatever fight you've had this time.” Celestia didn't answer. She stayed quiet while Splint picked a further three slivers of glass out of her scalp. It wasn't until he set the tweezers aside and fished out the antiseptic that she spoke again. “You don't have siblings, do you?” “No, ma'am.” “I thought not. You want-- ah! To speak of long term consequences, Splint? I spent a thousand years living with the consequences of ignoring my little sister. I believe that's roughly sixteen times longer than you have been alive. Can you imagine being separated from somepony you love for so long because she believed that nopony loved her? Because you cared more about taking care of your own petty problems than your sister's happiness? “Compared to that, I am not in the least bit concerned over some scratches leaving a few measly scars that nopony would ever be able to see. I have come too close to repeating my mistakes to risk it again. Now--” The door latch clicked. A dark blue hoof pushed the wooden barrier just enough for one tearful, cyan eye to peek through. The swab beat a hasty retreat into the waste bag. “No siblings, three daughters. I think that'll do for now, ma'am.” Splint swept his gear back into his medkit and snapped to a salute. “I'll leave you to it.” Celestia rose from the carpet without a word while the guard withdrew. A ginger touch of her hoof eased the door the rest of the way open. Luna shuffled in place on the other side of the threshold, eyes down. “Celestia—” “I was waiting for you.” Luna's neck sagged. “I know. I'm sorry.” “I know. So am I.” “Is there no spell?” Luna lifted her eyes just enough. “After all these years?” “The doctor said there might be… options. She's never seen a case quite like mine. I-- I couldn't. Not today. I needed to come home. I--” her voice caught. She cleared her throat as she'd done too many times, at the countless eulogies and speeches she'd given when all she'd ever wanted was to crawl into bed and sob. There were guards outside. The neighbors would hear. Twilight was still so new to the throne. Everypony needed to know that she was still there, ready to catch her if she fell. She couldn't shake that image, not yet. Maybe not ever. A tickle of familiar magic washed over her. Luna's horn painted the walls with it's azure glow. A tight field that melded into every surface, pulsed twice, then faded from sight. A soundproofing spell. Neighbors and guards alike went about their business, none the wiser. To them, Celestia would stay just as she'd always been: Beautiful and timeless. Nopony saw her legs fold beneath her like a house of cards. Nopony watched Luna rush to embrace her just in time to break her fall. Nopony heard her wails for what could never be.