Chapter Sixty Eight: Sympathetic Dialogues
~BlackRoseRaven
Over the days that followed the funeral, Scrivener Blooms and Luna helped Celestia take stock of everything that had happened, while Kvasir, Sleipnir, and Pinkamena traveled to Valhalla to deal with the fallout from Odin's death and the violent dismissal of their allies. And there was much to attend to: helping with the preparations for the services for those who had died in the attack, beginning repairs on the damage that had been done to Ponyville, ensuring the injured were all being treated... and tending to hurt family and friends.
While Pinkamena was in Valhalla, Fluttershy was staying with Pinkie Pie in Sugar Cube Corners. Nirvana was with them as well, and Pinkie Pie was glad for their company and gladder still to help them both as much as possible, even with her own injury still bothering her. Fluttershy was having balance and pain issues, but the latter barely seemed to slow her down, as she spent most of her time with Nirvana: reading to him, helping take care of him, treating his wounds with help from other Phooka. She had lost a wing, but she was putting this aside for now to make sure she didn't lose Nirvana as well... and to her, Nirvana was far more important than her wings.
The problem was that an ethereal creature like Nirvana couldn't simply be bandaged up to halt his bleeding: special plants had to be used to treat his wounds, and they took time to find in the Everfree Forest, even with Scarlet Sage, Apple Bloom, and Zecora all helping. The zebra had been hesitant at first to help the Phooka... but at both the sight of Fluttershy and hearing how Nirvana had protected her, she had put her concerns aside and helped locate the plants necessary to help the Phooka recover.
Applejack was also getting potions from Zecora, to help cleanse her system: with the hospital overcrowded from the injuries that had been sustained, she was instead set up in Sweet Apple Acres, with a wheelchair and an oxygen tank. Rainbow Dash tended to her as much as possible, and so did Big Mac, despite the fact that he had his own wounds to deal with... but he said a lost eye was nothing compared to Applejack's damaged lungs and stomach. Applejack always argued that she would get better, while Big Mac wouldn't... but her big brother always only smiled at her in that silent way of his, and that would be that.
Twilight was trying hard to help out all her friends as well, but also keep an eye on Scrivener: despite the fact he was still weak from what had happened and his lifespan had been shortened much further, he refused to slow down, and so did Luna. But the violet mare was glad for it, in a way, too. It was a good sign.
As spring began to roll towards summer, things began to return to normalcy: Sleipnir and Pinkamena returned from Valhalla with positive news, that Kvasir was being seen and welcomed as a strong leader for his dismissal of Valhalla's unwanted allies. Charon's friends had hurriedly gone on their way and there was no traces of them anywhere; likely due in part to the fact the creature had shown up in such a humiliated and devastated state. Gods or not, they would probably flee back to wherever they had come from with all their forces, or seek some easier target to latch onto like the criminals and parasites they had become.
Nirvana healed well, and Fluttershy was adjusting to life with only one wing slowly but surely. Applejack would likely be on asthma medication for the rest of her life, but she was strong, training herself as hard as ever, out of the wheelchair and off the oxygen tank. Big Mac had a glass eye now, and the wound on his face had faded into a faint line; some days he wore an eyepatch all the same, though, if only so ponies didn't forget that he was blind on one side now.
Scrivener Blooms, Luna, Antares and Twilight returned to Canterlot with Celestia after ensuring the village was safely on its way to being rebuilt, surprisingly because Scrivener had finally said there were only a few weeks left of term and he felt strong enough to finish up his courses, if the university would allow him to... which Celestia had ensured it most certainly would. All the same, he'd been surprised and touched beyond all reason when he'd walked into his Writer's Craft class and gotten both applause and the students had given him a gift: they'd each written a little something about him or for him, and put it all together into a little book.
It was now one of Scrivener's most prized possessions, and something he carried everywhere he could as a kind of good luck charm. He smiled as his thoughts lingered on this, feeling its comforting weight in the satchel hanging at his side. He was heading down the university halls, silver collar gleaming around his neck – Luna now insisted that he wear it at all times – and feeling... good, today. It was a good day.
Almost all of Scrivener's days could now be called 'good' or 'bad,' with little in between: on the good days he felt strong, healthy, brave, and cheerful, and not even the knowledge that Clockwork World was still hunting him and he was in all likelihood going to be dead within three years bothered him. It was like he was wired to be in a good mood: although for Scrivener, that usually meant he was obnoxious and sarcastic instead of depressing and cynical.
On the bad days, he could feel the corruption eating away at his veins, felt weak and vulnerable and fearful, and anxieties he couldn't control mixed with memories of failure, of stupidity, of bad things he simply couldn't suppress. Thankfully, the bad days were rarer... but when they hit, they hit hard, and the worst part was knowing that the poison in his mind was hurting Luna as well... and likely Antares and Twilight, too, since they had to watch him suffer.
Scrivener turned, musing on this as he pushed into the classroom, glancing up curiously at the sight of his students all sitting quietly and staring at something, and he followed their gaze... then stared as well at the sight of Celestia, smiling and standing across the room. Her golden peytral gleamed on her breast and a coronet rested on her head, and Scrivener shook himself out quickly before he asked finally: “What are you doing here?”
“I was curious, brother, that's all.” Celestia replied courteously, smiling and bowing her head, and now the eyes of ponies turned to stare at Scrivener stupidly, as the charcoal pony blushed but smiled awkwardly all the same. “I've heard a lot about your classes, after all... it sounds like this is the only one where your students are really fond of you, though.”
“You're... one to talk.” Scrivener said finally, and Celestia gave him an amused look as his students only continued to stare. Then the charcoal earth pony headed over to his desk, tossing the satchel bag onto this and asking after moment: “This is because of that list Twilight wrote up, isn't it?”
“Honestly, it isn't, although I am aware that you do like to flaunt your authority sometimes. Or as in this case, your connections to certain authority figures.” Celestia strode forwards, smiling at him as she passed before she flicked her horn and closed the door, then she turned back to face Scrivener and sat, gazing at him as he looked at her curiously. “You know that poetry had great value in the old culture. I'd like to listen in for today, if you'll let me. See what you have to teach.”
Scrivener smiled after a moment, glancing up at his amazed class before he returned his eyes to Celestia, saying mildly: “You know, I really hate to point this out, but the class might be a little different from usual with the whole... well, you know.”
Celestia only laughed softly, however, shaking her head replying: “You set the standard, Scrivener Blooms; how you react to... certain different elements in the room will help them to know how to react.” She paused, then glanced up towards the gathered ponies, adding gently: “But please. Treat me as you would any other pony. That's all I am.”
Scrivener smiled as there were a few awkward mumbles, and then a pony rose a hoof. Scrivener glanced up and nodded to the mare, who hesitated before she asked incredulously: “So are you really the Baroness' brother?”
“I like to think so.” Scrivener said after a moment, glancing over at Celestia, and she smiled again. “But as you all know, I'm married to Luna Brynhild. Luna is Celestia's little sister, hard as that might be for some of you to believe.”
“I'm very proud of my family and I care deeply for them... but I still like to try and keep my private life private. It's part of why I live in Ponyville, and not here in Canterlot.” Celestia said softly, looking out towards the students again, who murmured excitedly between themselves. “A long time ago, Scrivener was once the Court Poet of Canterlot. He helped me with writing speeches, personal research, and other things...” Celestia paused, then added meditatively: “Right up until a very silly fight, where I lost my temper and... what is the term you and Luna use, Scrivener?”
“Curb-stomped me.” Scrivener reached up and absently patted at the scarred side of his features, and several of the ponies gaped at him before the charcoal earth pony added mildly: “Also, Pipes, see? Now pay up the twenty bucks you bet me that I'd never tell the truth about what happened to my face. Now you know I was telling the truth the whole time.”
Zampona groaned and dropped her face against her hooves as there were a few chuckles at this, and Scrivener looked over the class with entertainment before tossing a glance towards Celestia. When she only gazed back with her warm amethyst irises, he nodded a little before saying thoughtfully, looking ahead over the group: “Alright. Today I was originally going to bore the hell out of all of you with etymological patterning, but I think instead... we're going to play a game. There's uh... nineteen of you, right? Including Celestia, I mean.”
Scrivener glanced over them, then he nodded thoughtfully. “So Celestia, I'm going to ask you to come up with the start of a story while I...” He paused, then grabbed up a pad of sticky notes and a pen, beginning to quickly jot down words over the small sheets of paper as he instructed: “I'm going to give you each a piece of a story and a number. Celestia will begin the story, and then each person in turn, from two to nineteen, will continue it, focusing on ad-libbing in whatever element they've been assigned. Like, for example: two is 'Protagonist,' so Celestia will start the story, then whoever got note two will tell us all about our hero.”
He paused, glancing up over the class as the students all stared at him, and then Scrivener grinned after a moment, adding: “And try to stay somewhere between the line of 'cliché' and 'douchebaggery,' okay? I want you guys to be creative, but not so creative that we end up with some ridiculous story about... our heroes turning to pure evil and becoming some ultimate monster after a controversial... everything.”
Celestia gave him an amused look, and Scrivener began to turn his eyes back down to the notes before he winced when a green vortex spun open in his desk, and Discombobulation poked his head out. He glared at Scrivener, and Scrivener looked awkwardly back for a few long moments before Discombobulation slowly rose a hand up out of the portal, pointing at his own eyes, then pointing at Scrivener before his head and hand slowly both sank down into the portal, and the charcoal stallion sighed as the vortex shut with a spark of greenish electricity. “Is this going to be guest appearance day or something?”
“It was a very interesting story, Scrivener Blooms. You have to admit that, even if you and Luna pretend to hate it now because the Norns claimed to have written it.” Celestia replied, and Scrivener grunted and shrugged as he went back to quickly jotting down the notes, before the ivory equine asked curiously: “Am I allowed to introduce the characters?”
“You? You can start the story however you want. As little as naming a setting, as grandiose as... describing pretty much everything ever. Your start will be the base, and then the following people are all going to build off that.” Scrivener paused, then he reached out and emptied his satchel, then he swept the eighteen sticky notes into the cloth bag and reached down to quickly stir the papers all around, calling easily: “Everyone, come and pick up a sheet.”
Students began to file down, and Scrivener smiled amusedly as the first in line – Ardent Virtue, he thought it was – leaned forwards as he reached into the satchel, asking awkwardly: “So is that... really, the real Baroness?”
“Really really.” Scrivener replied mildly, and then he held up a hoof when Ardent pulled out a slip with '5 – Setting' written over it. “Wait.”
“What?” Ardent looked confused for a moment, and then Scrivener turned to his desk, rifling through the stuff messily spilled over it before he pulled out his wallet and swept up a hoof-full of bits, and Ardent groaned. “Oh come on!”
“Hey, everypony's done it for me at some point this year. Go get me and Celestia coffee, help yourself to whatever you can buy with the change. Make 'em both double-doubles.” Scrivener instructed, and Ardent grunted and nodded, taking the bits and tossing them into a pouch at his side with the note, before he hurried off as Celestia gave him an amused look. “What? Did you never send your soldiers off to do stuff for you?”
“Some days, it honestly becomes difficult to tell you and Luna apart.” Celestia commented, and Scrivener shot her a sour look in return.
It didn't take long for the class to each get a sheet and plot point to tackle, and Ardent returned with the coffees only a few minutes later as well. Celestia and Scrivener sat side-by-side, Scrivener holding his paper cup in his hooves and smiling as Celestia only studied him curiously with her gaze, and then she finally said softly: “I really am impressed, Scrivener Blooms.”
Scrivener cocked his head as he looked up at her, and Celestia smiled, reaching a hoof up to rest on his shoulder as she said: “You're handling yourself very well, and you're opening up and... I can see that you're having a good effect on these students, too, getting them to think. Teaching them things that I see other ponies have sadly forgotten, if they ever learned at all.”
“I can't take credit for that, Celestia... besides, I'm sure that everything I teach will be forgotten a few weeks after they get out of my class, not that I blame any of them.” Scrivener smiled back over at Celestia, then he added quietly: “And I guess it's because my brain is either... really positive or really negative right now. Or maybe it's just because, since... I know that the end is nigh one way or another, there just isn't a lot of reason to be afraid of... being more open anymore.”
“I'd think for a lot of people it would be the opposite. Fear of showing your true face to avoid driving anyone away, in the precious time before... things happen.” Celestia replied quietly, and Scrivener laughed a bit before he looked up and met her eyes.
“They're not seeing my true face, Celestia.” he said softly, and the two looked at one-another for a few long moments before Scrivener shook his head quickly, then turned his eyes back out to look over the class, calling easily: “Alright! That's long enough for you to think up a few ideas, you're all going to have to work on your hooves, anyway. Celestia, if you would?”
Celestia nodded calmly, then she glanced up and began easily, without any hesitation as the class fell silent: “Once upon a time, there lived two princesses: one moved the sun to bring the day, the other the moon, to bring the night. But one day...” Celestia closed her eyes, smiling a little. “The older sister grew bitter and greedy. The ponies all cherished the beauty of her day, but she thought she knew what was best for all the land. She developed a cunning plan to take full control of her country... to make the ponies see that she knew what was best for all of them ”
Scrivener gestured calmly outwards as silence fell, and a few ponies scrambled at their notes before one of them stammered out quickly: “The... the hero is... uh. The princess?”
“Take your time, Harmony.” Scrivener smiled despite himself, shaking his head out and saying quietly: “Take thirty seconds to a minute to get your thoughts in mind, then just flow with it.”
Harmony nodded hurriedly, blushing a bit as she took a few calming breaths, and there was silence for a few moments before she began slowly: “The hero is the younger princess... she's... uh... brave, and innocent, and-”
“Don't just describe her, continue the story!” Scrivener urged, gesturing at her, and Harmony nodded again, turning a deeper shade of red. “Keep going with it, you're doing good for being the first victim.”
“The... the older princess knew she had to deal with her younger sister, though, because... she was so nice, and good, and would not want to see anypony hurt.” Harmony said carefully, and when Scrivener gave her a wide smile and nodded in approval, she picked up confidence, continuing: “She was named... uh... Dream, and she was as dark as the night sky but her heart was as... white as the moon?”
“Careful about color metaphors, but excellent, now you're really getting it. Next?” Scrivener drew his eyes through the crowd, and another pony rose a hoof before the charcoal stallion smiled and leaned forwards in anticipation.
The story continued, and Scrivener was enthralled with it as Celestia listened intently, smiling warmly. They did well, a few of the students particularly shining, one or two struggling, but Scrivy helped them along if they ever showed signs of really being in trouble. It ended up being an interesting tale the class wove, involving meteors, an epic battle, a wasteland, and thanks to one stallion, amazonian guards in bikinis. But all-in-all it was quite a successful little story-time, and he greatly enjoyed it. Celestia seemed to as well, and by the end, the students were all smiling at each other, and there was a visible... camaraderie, for lack of a better word. More than just respect for each other... appreciation.
The charcoal stallion looked over them thoughtfully... then he finally nodded, saying mildly: “Crazy, a little nutty, I'm sure there are some plot holes – and thanks to Jack every time I say that I'm going to feel dirty now, thank you, Jack, for keeping in mind we're in the presence of a Baroness and contributing such polite and witty humor – and some other problems but... there are with pretty much every story. The point of this story was to get you guys thinking on your hooves and winging it and working with one-another, and you all did that. You did wonderfully.” Scrivener smiled slightly, glancing over at Celestia and asking mildly: “What did you think?”
“I think it's a very good thing Luna isn't here.” Celestia replied mildly, and Scrivener grunted in agreement before she smiled slightly and said softly: “But I think you have much to be proud of in your students, Scrivener Blooms, and they've done very well in listening to you.”
“Good to hear, then. Thank you, Celestia.” Scrivener paused, then looked up at the clock on the wall, adding: “I now have to go and read to some... oh, hell, right. Before I go, everypony remember that next class is your last chance to pass in any overdue assignments, and I'll be collecting your free-writing assignments. If you need to talk to me about it, I'll be in my office most of tomorrow.”
The students nodded, and as Scrivener gathered his things up, Celestia asked gently: “May I accompany you, Scrivener? There's not much to be done around Canterlot today. Twilight can handle the little paperwork that needs to be finished, as well as mailing it out appropriately.”
Scrivener smiled after a moment, saying mildly: “You keep this up, Celestia, and I'm going to end up getting used to having a Baroness accompanying me everywhere.”
“Everywhere?” Celestia asked with a wink, and Scrivener cleared his throat loudly as he blushed a bit and hurriedly grabbed up his satchel, heading quickly to the door as Celestia fell into pace after him with an amused smile. “Luna's right, you know. It really is far too easy to tease you, but also very stress-relieving.”
The charcoal pony grunted, but slowed his steps, and they strode side-by-side with one-another, garnering stares from the ponies they passed before Scrivener asked finally, glancing up at her: “How are you feeling?”
Celestia was quiet for a few moments, and then she replied softly: “Better these days. But if you want me to be entirely honest, Scrivener Blooms... I still feel very worried, and... part of me still hurts, and hurts deeper than I expected it to. And that ache is made worse by the fact that...”
She broke off, looking at him, and Scrivener nodded slowly, asking quietly as he glanced ahead: “Is that why you're here? To examine me?”
“Out of concern, but I'm also here because I want to be here, Scrivener. Because you are family, you are my brother.” Celestia replied with a quiet laugh, shaking her head slowly before she looked up and said finally: “Yes, my mind still... thinks in calculating and wicked ways that may make it seem like I have a hidden agenda, even now... but I promise you, I wouldn't be here if my main concern wasn't... spending time with you.”
Scrivener shook his head a bit, gazing over at her softly. “I'm sorry, Celestia, I didn't mean to be accusing or anything. I'm... I am very glad you're here, don't get me wrong. I just... guess... the attention is weird, that's all. You, me, out here in the open. Particularly since the staff regularly sends me memos telling me not to broadcast my relation to you, nor the fact that you got me this job. Although I'm pretty sure most ponies know I shouldn't really be in a teaching position at a university, because of. You know. My everything.”
Celestia only smiled wryly at this, shaking her head slowly as she responded: “You're difficult, Scrivener. And I think you enjoy being difficult, don't you? Finding flaws and problems with everything and everyone, questioning your own value, continuously meandering through self-loathing, self-destruction, and masochism. You're very frustrating.”
“I know. But so's Luna, isn't she?” Scrivener said mildly, and Celestia nodded thoughtfully. “In some ways we're very different. In others, we're very much the same.”
“We are.” Celestia said gently, and Scrivener looked at her with surprise, then he blushed a bit as he turned his eyes back ahead, the ivory mare smiling slightly before she rose her head and added calmly: “And I know you were imagining me in frivolous clothing earlier, Scrivener.”
“Yes, well, you know me. Frivolous clothing is made so much better by the fact we all normally wear little to no clothing at all.” Scrivener replied dryly, and Celestia gave him a slight smile, making him frown at her.
“Your defense is what leaves you vulnerable, Scrivener. By which I mean I find it funny you're trying to be sarcastic when I've seen how you look at myself and Luna in our armor.” Celestia replied kindly, and Scrivener blushed again as he once more hurriedly looked down the hall, before Celestia added: “And Sleipnir.”
“I. You. Go away.” Scrivener said finally, but Celestia only smiled at him as the charcoal pony sighed tiredly and led the way towards an open pair of double doors, muttering: “Why can't you go back to being all serious and possibly evil?”
But the ivory winged unicorn only looked at him with entertainment as she strode in behind him, replying quietly: “Because that was a mistake, and I've been given the rare chance to learn and change from what I've done, to become the person I once was again... and I plan to make the very most of that chance.” Celestia paused, then smiled slightly, adding pointedly: “And it feels much more rewarding much more often to speak freely and share in the conversation and cheer than it ever did when I used to try and control every little thing. I missed being... free.”
Scrivener nodded thoughtfully, then he glanced up at the lecture hall and the gathered ponies, many of whom were already talking amongst themselves and gesturing at Celestia. Scrivener approached the podium, taking his place at it, and then he looked down and pointedly ignored several hooves that raised high in the air before a voice called: “What's the Baroness doing here?”
“Celestia?” Scrivener glanced over at her, and Celestia simply gave him a look, the earth pony grunting before he sat back and said seriously: “I'm afraid that I'm under criminal review due to the events of the last few months and I'm not at liberty to talk about it. The Baroness herself is overseeing my trial and wanted to see how well – or badly – I handled a class.”
It was, of course, absolute nonsense that made no real sense, but all the same the entire class simply stared before a hoof rose and waved through the air as Bitchy Britches' voice rang out with badly-hidden excitement: “Does that mean you're going to be replaced before the end of the year and we'll get a different exam?”
Scrivener grunted, glancing over at Celestia and asking meditatively: “How much cocaine do I have to snort in front of you before the university declares it a criminal violation?”
“Scrivener, you can snort as much cocaine as you like in front of me. It's more your political ideals that concern us.” Celestia replied eloquently, and Scrivener couldn't help but laugh before he quickly covered his muzzle and cleared his throat, looking back up seriously over the class and enjoying the way confusion and nasty hope melted into uncertainty... and horror, in the smarter ones.
The charcoal stallion turned his eyes to his textbook, and then Britches' voice rang out again, whining: “I have a right to know why the class is being monitored!”
“Worried someone's going to find all the marijuana in your bag left over from happy hour at lunchtime?” Scrivener muttered to himself under his breath, and then he shook his head before looking up and saying mildly: “It's an assessment.”
“True, in a sense. Would you mind if I take some time to go around, speak to some of the students, while you prepare your notes?” Celestia asked, and Scrivener smiled before he shrugged and gestured at her to go ahead.
Scrivener gave Celestia about ten minutes: technically only five minutes of that was actual class time, and he wasn't in any real rush to begin, anyway. They only had one piece of writing to cover today, a short, unfinished prose work by a long-dead author, and putting it off for an extra few minutes was welcome. In that short period of time, many of the students had greeted the Baroness, and a few had likely already said sharp words about him before Celestia had taken a seat near the upper end of the lecture hall, and Scrivener had begun.
He read through the fragmented prose, was pleased when for once he wasn't interrupted every five minutes, and then allowed them to put their ideas and analysis forwards. A few made predictable but still useful points, and the rest of the ponies who spoke up all tried to impress the Baroness with their mental prowess, deep, brooding philosophy, and incredible vocabularies.
When Scrivener was about to dismiss the class early, Celestia calmly rose a hoof, and Scrivener looked up at her curiously before she asked: “And what did you think of that poem, Professor Scrivener Blooms?”
Scrivener thought for a moment, opened his mouth... then closed it and lowered his head. Celestia leaned forwards a bit at this, and then the charcoal pony looked up and smiled, saying quietly: “I think had the author not died a virgin, worshiping and romanticizing sexuality mostly because it was something he never had, he'd understand two things: that sex is sex and that just because you don't understand how something can feel good, doesn't mean it must automatically be bad.”
It was a half-serious, half-joking answer, and Celestia measured him with her gaze before she stood up and began to stride down the stairs, asking curiously: “And what if I said you were bias because of your own particular relationship?”
Scrivener smiled slightly at this, leaning forwards and looking with entertainment over his glasses at her as he replied mildly: “Then maybe I'd say you're bias because of your lack thereof.”
A few murmurs and gasps ran up through the crowd at this, and then Britches called defensively: “You don't have to experience something just to know whether it's morally right or wrong!”
Scrivener shrugged at this, but it was Celestia who responded, saying easily: “That may be true, but experiencing something for ourselves helps us determine not only whether or not it is moral or amoral, and more importantly, whether or not we're reacting to it as such just because we've been taught to react to it in that fashion by the norms and standards created by society. Especially when the action or experience in question is something that does not harm anyone or put anyone at risk... and life is all about experiences, is it not?”
“No wonder you used to be called the Dragon Slayer.” Scrivener said mildly, leaning back as Celestia continued down from the rows of seats to the bottom of the lecture hall, and she smiled slightly across the open floor at him before he cleared his throat and glanced up at the classroom. “Anyway. You're all dismissed, we've covered everything we need to. Tomorrow we'll start review.”
Scrivener turned to begin packing up as ponies hurried down from their seats, some heading to the door, others staying to talk with Celestia. The ivory winged unicorn was cordial and polite with them, but she was also quick to try and push through their conversations as the charcoal stallion took his time gathering his things up: this was his last class for the day, after all, and now he and Celestia could... head back to the castle, he supposed.
Bitchy Britches tried to shove her way into conversation with Celestia... but the rainbow-maned mare pointedly turned away to look at Scrivener, asking kindly: “Shall we go and pick up the others, then head out to dinner?”
“Sounds good to me.” Scrivener smiled and nodded, then he held up a hoof and waved cheerfully to Britches as she gaped after them as the stallion and winged unicorn headed for the door, the charcoal pony asking mildly: “So, how much do they hate me?”
“Only a little more than I expected.” Celestia replied kindly, and Scrivener laughed and shook his head before the ivory mare said gently: “Not to question your decisions, Scrivener Blooms... but perhaps your students would benefit a little more from your teaching if you weren't so... I don't want to say 'hostile...'”
“Jerky? Unpleasant? Vindictive?” Scrivener glanced at her, and Celestia nodded thoughtfully. “Well, you know what I'm like when I get shoved into a place I don't want to be with ponies I don't like. It's not enough that it's a subject that every pony in there should be able to grasp without me holding their hooves each and every step of the way, they... well, I just kind of explained it, kind of.”
Celestia smiled slightly, replying: “We aren't all as well adjusted as you, Scrivener Blooms, nor do all of us deal with stress in the same way... the only reason I'm not lecturing you is because, believe it or not, they actually do learn from you. At least most of them do... there's only a few of them I can say I don't sympathize at least a little for.”
Scrivener grumbled a bit, and then Celestia suggested: “Why don't you try, next class, just... being nicer? Try not to think of how you're being forced to teach this and follow this particular curriculum, don't think about the few students who seem to be there only to grind your nerves... think about the students who are there to learn, focus on them, focus on sharing your knowledge with them.”
The charcoal stallion sighed, then he nodded a little, and Celestia nodded back, pausing for a moment before she said in a quieter voice: “I notice that your mood seems to affect you physically.”
“Horses of Heaven, Celestia, do you have like... a team of not-crazy Cowlicks powering your brain or something?” Scrivener asked finally, and Celestia gave him an amused look before the earth pony shifted a bit, then muttered, as they turned into the main hall and headed for double doors leading out to the street: “I... honestly, I'm fine.”
“My sister once told me what the word 'fine' stands for, which she claims to have learned from Twilight. I'm still not sure if she actually was telling the truth or not.” Celestia remarked, and Scrivener smiled a bit before the ivory mare said softly: “I know you're always going to say you're okay. I know you may always eventually be okay: you're strong, stronger than you act and stronger than you look. That doesn't mean I'm going to just sit back and let you suffer, Scrivener Blooms. Not after Odin. Not after what happened to our friends. Not after how you've already suffered enough... and you are connected to my little sister, after all. If you hurt, she hurts; if you want to couch it in bare, cold facts, I have to take care of you to take care of Luna.”
Scrivener smiled a bit as they headed silently outside... and then he sighed a little as they passed by a crowd of milling students, many of whom stared as the Baroness strode by with the scarred charcoal pony quite a few of them knew was some eccentric temp hire. “Funny, Celestia. That actually makes me feel better.”
Celestia smiled, then she glanced up at the sky before asking: “But I do care about you, too. Which is why I'm curious to know if you're being honest or not on that list you're writing with Twilight Sparkle.”
“Not entirely, to be entirely honest.” Scrivener replied, as they crossed the street and headed towards the park Scrivener liked to cut through, and Celestia gave him a half-interested, half-exasperated look. “Celestia, I can't be... entirely honest. We all desire things we simply can't ask for.”
“Actually, I think we can all ask for anything we desire, as long as we bear in mind that it might not be something easily retrieved or achieved. There's nothing wrong with asking, Scrivener... as long as you aren't expecting the universe to twist itself into knots for you simply because you desire it to.” Celestia countered, and Scrivener grumbled a little before the ivory mare added quietly: “I understand being hesitant and embarrassed, Scrivener. But you don't have to feel shame with us, or worry. I won't judge you... or rather, I won't think badly of you.”
Scrivener slowed to a halt, looking over at her quietly, and Celestia stopped beside him, gazing down at him supportively as she said softly: “I think of myself as a Valkyrie first these days, everything else second. But more than that... I was Freya, renowned for her passions and her... peculiarities. I have no right to judge.”
She quieted, then smiled a bit. “Besides, look at Sleipnir and Luna, Scrivener. I journeyed with them, more often than not sharing a single cramped room with them and others, back and forth across Equestria in the old days. Physical things don't bother me. Not even your... tastes... bother me.”
“They bother me.” Scrivener muttered, a faint flush spreading up over his features before he closed his eyes and shook his head, asking quietly: “At least, weird as things can be sometimes with me and Luna and... Twilight... there's more sense and understanding to it. Why... why do I like... images of hurting people? Why did I survive the original corruption, the Tyrant Wyrm? No, more than that... how could I find... enjoyment, something like wonderment in it?”
“Would you like the rational, scientific and psychological reasons or the emotional, instinctual reasons?” Celestia's amethyst eyes locked with Scrivener's, and she held his gaze as she reached up a hoof, saying quietly: “Dominance, the fact you were raised in an environment where pain was all you knew, your need for power and strength, your ideas and enjoyment of control and rule. And the warrior instincts you've developed, the way your soul has mixed with Luna's, the darkness inside you that you seek to express... to find an outlet for. There's a thousand reasons, Scrivener, and only very few will ever understand 'why.'
“Scrivener, I know that... you keep coming back to this for a reason. Rationalization, maybe, that your impending death is a good thing; hope, perhaps, that if you can find a way to 'cure' yourself or your corruption, these dark urges will go away too. But Scrivener... there is nothing wrong with you.” Celestia reached up, touching under his chin quietly. “You are not the Scrivener who became half of Gymbr. You are not a Tyrant Wyrm, or a monster. And I say this with confidence because you have never acted on your urges. Frustrating as it is that you do all the same try to drag ponies into debate after debate about the nature of good and evil, and where you fall in that category.”
“Well, don't worry about that, Celestia, I've at least figured out where I sit there. I'm pretty damn evil.” Scrivener laughed a bit despite himself, not breaking eye contact as he looked up at the ivory mare before hesitating, and then saying finally: “Thank you for understanding that... I need to talk sometimes. Even if it's about the same goddamn stupid things over and over, I need reassurance... pounded into my head.”
“It's alright, Scrivener Blooms. I can be patient with you... especially since otherwise, you're doing a good job of keeping yourself going.” Celestia paused, then dropped her hoof and smiled down at him slightly, asking quietly: “What do you dream of doing before you die, that you haven't put down on that list? And answer me honestly and don't try and deflect with your nonsense about the difference between dreams and hopes and aspirations.”
“And desires. And wishes.” Scrivener said lamely, and when Celestia gave him a look, he sighed and mumbled, starting to turn away. She reached out and caught him by the shoulder, however, not letting him move on as she tilted her head, and the charcoal pony took a long breath before he admitted moodily: “Sometimes I wish I was evil Scrivener. You know. Claws and all.”
Celestia gave him an entertained look, and Scrivener smiled wryly, glancing up at her as he said finally: “Why is it that you can pretty much read my mind even when I lie, deflect, and try to cheat my way out of answering?”
“Many years of practice with Sleipnir, Luna, and countless politicians.” Celestia replied quietly, and then she shook her head and said softly: “Besides, Scrivener Blooms. You have a habit of mixing truth into your diversions... and with how well I like to think I've come to know you over the years, it becomes easy for me to pick out what you really mean when you speak.”
Scrivener grunted, looking down for a moment before they both started to walk again, and then he said quietly: “Don't get me wrong or anything, I'm glad, honored even, that you know me so well... it's just kind of scary, too. It freaks Luna out too, you know.”
“Luna's just afraid that one day we'll start working together to keep her in line, that's all.” Celestia smiled after a moment at Scrivener Blooms, and then she shook her head and added: “And you still haven't answered the question.”
Scrivener mumbled under his breath, before Celestia asked curiously: “Scrivener, please don't take this the wrong way... but have you ever thought of formalizing your relationship with Twilight? She... she adores you and Luna both, very much, and you've all worked very hard to be... open with things despite how uncomfortable the subject makes yourselves and others at times.”
“Polygamy is illegal in Equestria, isn't it?” Scrivener asked dryly, and Celestia smiled slightly, looking at him with entertainment.
“Polyamory, and specifically group marriage, has some slight protections in place.” Celestia paused, then said softly, glancing up as they stepped out of the park and onto the road heading back towards the castle: “It's an interesting subject, Scrivener. And of course it has a personal fascination for me, too: on the one hoof I can pretend that since I have no special person in my life right now, it means I'm looking over things with a clinical and scientific eye. On the other, I fully understand that love is stupid, confusing, and you simply can't always control where it leads you.”
Scrivener looked down embarrassedly, and Celestia smiled at him after a moment, saying quietly: “Scrivener. I'm not looking to hurt or humiliate you. Just to discuss things, that's all.”
The charcoal stallion grunted, then he cleared his throat and said finally: “Not discussing things seems to work great, though. We talk about it, bring it out into the light, and it's like dragging a hungover Sleipnir out from under the sheets or something.”
Celestia only gave the charcoal pony an amused look, however, replying easily: “I didn't think you were such a coward, Scrivener, afraid of what ponies thought of you.”
Scrivener looked sour at this, glancing up at Celestia with a grumble before she gestured aside to a small, posh coffee shop, and the male sighed before he turned to follow the ivory equine inside. They headed over to sit at a quiet table, and Celestia rose a hoof, signaling to the barista circling through the mostly-empty shop as she said to him softly: “I've always respected your privacy with Luna and Twilight, Scrivener, even though they're both very dear to me... as you are, too. The only reason I'm pushing to talk about this now is because... I don't want to see any regrets in the near future.”
Scrivener frowned at this, and when Celestia looked at him squarely, he glanced awkwardly down and rubbed at his face before muttering finally: “You know, bigamy is an ugly word. The structure of it, I mean, it's hideous. It's like... 'smirk,' that's another word I can't stand. The very design of the word itself is ugly, vindictive, unpleasant. They're words designed for people to dislike. That's why most often, when you use 'smirk' to describe someone's expression, it's paired with villains or a particularly nasty joke. Like the word 'doom.' 'Doom' doesn't mean anything bad by itself, but the word is deep, baritone, triggers an ominous feeling, especially through its constant use by writers to signify some evil end.”
“I'm making you nervous.” Celestia said quietly, and Scrivener only smiled and reached up to adjust his glasses a bit, knowing there was no point in arguing or denying it before the Baroness smiled quickly over to the barista that hurriedly approached. “Coffee, large, two sugar and two cream. I'll have peppermint tea.”
“Of course, Baroness.” The barista nodded with a blush, then turned and headed quickly off as Celestia and Scrivener both watched her leave meditatively.
“There are... some advantages to being in charge.” Celestia returned her eyes to Scrivener as he looked at her quiet entertainment, and then the ivory mare continued softly: “Luna is your soulmate. No pony could deny that... not seeing the lengths you'll go to for each other, the way you'll do anything for one another. The way you are when you're together... but what about Twilight? What exactly is she to you and Luna, Scrivener Blooms?”
“I don't know.” Scrivener hesitated, then held up a hoof, saying finally: “This is going to sound weird, but... the Norns said she was supposed to end up with Luna. That I was an extra piece of the puzzle that... altered the stories somehow, slipped in for... some reason. They were never... clear, though, they were always changing the story when it came to me.”
Scrivener halted, looking down before he continued slowly: “I think that has something to do with all... this. I know it sounds silly, and I'm adding logic and... nonsense to... well, emotions and stuff that are already weird, maybe I'm even... validating the powers of the Norns a bit, or the powers they had, at least... but... I dunno.
“I know, I know, I'm sorry. I'm dodging the question. No one, pony or otherwise, has ever really confronted me on the subject before.” Scrivener grabbed at his face, rubbing at his forehead before he sighed and looked up, saying honestly: “Like Luna, she's a friend first to me. She's so important to me, Celestia, she's... beautiful, charming, funny, smart... she can put up with my bull, and she knows when to reassure me and when to just smack me. She's understanding... I think that anything and everything in the world becomes possible with that.”
Celestia looked thoughtful at this, leaning forwards and saying softly: “But you and Luna are soulmates. Where does that leave Twilight in the relationship?”
“I know. I know it's not entirely fair. And Luna comes first to me, and I know I come first to Luna. At least...” Scrivener shook his head slowly, rubbing at his face and murmuring softly: “That's what we tell Twilight. But honestly? Luna and I would both die to protect Twilight, in a heartbeat. We'd never forgive the other for not saving her, either... because Luna and I do everything together anyway, right? And better us... than her. For a lot of reasons.”
Scrivener smiled despite himself after a moment, glancing up as he said quietly: “We trust, love, and respect her. Always. We're... careful, because both Luna and I know Twilight still is... a little innocent. A little impressionable, and she... she's trying so hard for us, in so many ways. She's wonderful with Antares and teaching him a lot: she comforts Luna in ways that I can't and I can talk to her in ways that it's hard for me to talk to Luna, because... well. Soul-link or not, Luna and I do still get into arguments and our wires do cross now and then.”
Celestia nodded, then she smiled as the barista returned to hurriedly begin putting out a full, fancy tea set in front of the ivory equine, before the barista winced when Celestia asked gently: “My friend's coffee...”
“Right on the way!” the barista dropped the last of the tea set – large containers of sugar and cream – on the table, then turned and bolted for the counter, returning a few moments later with a coffee. Scrivener winced and caught it when it was almost thrown at him, and the barista bounced on her hooves and said brightly: “If you need anything else, just let me know!”
Scrivener smiled awkwardly as Celestia nodded and looked pointedly at the mare when she lingered, and the barista blushed before hurrying off. Then Celestia shook her head a bit, turning her eyes back towards Scrivener and asking quietly: “And how do you think Twilight feels? Being part of the relationship but always a little outside?”
“I know. But I think... Luna and I half-hoped, half-feared, for the day she'd find somepony better than us.” Scrivener began, sniffing at his coffee, and then he frowned in surprise when Celestia only laughed quietly. “What?”
“No matter what my stance, Scrivener, I know that Twilight is in safe hooves with you and Luna. More important than that, I've had enough time to see and value things to know she isn't be used by either of you, that you're very good to her, very careful with her.” Celestia stopped, glancing down and closing her eyes and smiling a little. “And you and Luna... make her happy, most important of all. Happy in a way I can't, and she is absolutely loyal to you both.”
She stopped, then opened her amethyst eyes, meeting Scrivener's as she said softly: “You and Luna need time to think about things, I understand that. And so will Twilight. But do you remember how we were talking about a renewal of vows before? I think... Twilight deserves to hear promises made to her as well, in front of friends and family. Because sometimes, Scrivener, she's a little afraid that you and Luna are ashamed of her.”
“Never.” Scrivener said firmly, sitting up and frowning a bit, and then he stared at Celestia, leaning forwards and asking slowly: “Wait... you've... talked to her about this?”
“I have, more than once. I asked her not to tell either of you because I knew it would likely grate on Luna's nerves.” Celestia smiled after a moment. “Not that I'd blame either of you for being upset. I'm interfering in your personal business again.”
“You're trying to understand things. That's what matters most.” Scrivener replied softly, glancing down and sipping at his coffee... and then he coughed and spat several times to the side, and Celestia leaned back in surprise. “Almond roast, ugh. I'm allergic to almonds.”
“It's not made with real almonds, you know, Scrivener. It's just flavored.” Celestia said pointedly, and Scrivener grunted before the ivory mare shook her head, asking after a moment curiously: “Are you really allergic to almonds? I've seen you eat nuts before.”
“Other nuts don't bother me, just almonds. And onions. You've seen what happens when I eat onions.” Scrivener replied, and Celestia gave him an amused look. “Well, it's not a choking to death allergy, I'm still going to eat onions if it comes with the food.”
“This is one of the reasons why I'm actually glad you have both Twilight and Luna looking after you, Scrivener Blooms. They're very good at taking care of you, which is something you honestly seem to need.” Celestia remarked, and Scrivener laughed and shook his head despite himself before the ivory equine signaled the barista again. “Speaking of which, Scrivener... back on the subject of your to-do list, and your actual dreams and aspirations...”
The charcoal stallion sat back, but smiled despite himself even as they began to talk once more, delving in the deepest, most uncomfortable subjects with confidence, understanding, and compassion, two strange ponies holding equally strange but welcome conversation.