New Noses To Know

by Irrespective

14. - Dapples

“And that, Your Highness, is why we wish to erect a statue of Princess Luna in the center of Canterlot.”

Luna blinked once. “Forgive me, Lord Thimble. You wish to commission a statue of myself so that all ponies may, and I quote, ‘be able to admire your exquisite backside?’”

“Yes, Your Highness. I assure you, the Association of Royal Rump Respecters has already raised the funds. No taxpayer money will be needed. We only need your approval.”

Luna blinked again. She turned to Celestia, whose subtle smile had ever so slowly changed during the presentation until it now resembled something you might find on a Cheshire cat. 

“Hurry up and give him your approval, sister.” Celestia barely resisted cackling with delight, although Luna could tell she was about to lose her air of Royal Detachment and roll on the floor with laughter any minute. “I’d be interested to see your flanks immortalized in bronze. Or perhaps a nice marble would be better.”

“If it would help your decision, Your Highness, the Association plans on commissioning a statue of your sister’s rump next,” Lord Thimble went on.

Luna dropped her face into her hooves. “Oh, stars and sun above. That’s all Equestria needs, another statue of Celestia in any way, shape, or form. Especially her rear.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Princess. Why would you deny the populace of the opportunity to worship your—”

“Do not finish that sentence.” Luna glared at her giggling sister. “Lord Thimble, as… honored as I am that you find my hindquarters to be so attractive, I must refuse your request. We would not be comfortable with statues of Our tail end on display in the middle of Canterlot. Or anywhere else, for that matter.”

“But Your Highness!” Lord Thimble protested. “Princess Celestia, please! The Association only wants to—”

“My Sister has spoken.” Celestia cut him off with a slight increase in volume and the sincerest stern stare she could manage at the moment, which was not much. “Her word is Our word, and it is final. I suggest you find another use for the funds you have raised, or refund them.” 

Lord Thimble looked like he would protest further, but a sharp look from Luna cut him off, and he was forced to admit defeat. “Very well, Your Highnesses. Thank you for your time.”

The Royal Sisters remained motionless until Lord Thimble had been escorted out, but as soon as he was gone, Luna nearly exploded. “Aye, what a pure reedy that was!” 

Celestia took a while to recover her composure, but once she had quit laughing to herself, she nodded in the door’s general direction. “And he’s not even in the top ten of strange requests.”

“But askin’ to bronze mah bum? He’s got brass… something else!” Luna proclaimed.

Celestia had to admit that Luna was adorable when her speech slipped back to that ancient highland brogue, especially since she only used it when her mind was filled with thoughts of her husband. “Indeed so. He clearly did not know that Star Struck is the only one who may praise that particular portion of your posterior.”

“He would do well to remember it, the daftie.” Luna rubbed the side of her head. “Curse me kilts. When, exactly, did our little ponies stop offering the proper respect and deference to their lieges?”

“Tempora mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis,” Celestia said. “Our little ponies do respect and revere us. It just…” She paused as her recent conversation with Doctor Cheerilee came to mind. “It’s just changed a little bit over the years, and we must learn to appreciate it. Within limits, or course.”

“I am not entirely sure that I like that. There is an argument to be made for some things to remain the same.”

“If nothing changes, then everything remains the same, the good and the bad.”

Luna rolled her eyes and gave Celestia a flat stare. “Like you and your cryptic nonsense. Wysteria, send in the next petitioner.”

“That was the last one for the day, Your Highness,” Wysteria replied, looking over her clipboard with such intensity that nopony would ever suspect her of having heard the entire conversation. 

“Good. If you will excuse me, Celly. I need to find a memory erasing spell so I may properly purge the memory of Lord Thimble’s request. And possibly some way to wash his brain of this idea, too.”

“For some, a simple rinse will do. I will see you at moonrise, then?”

“Certes. And always.”

With that, Luna disappeared in a swirl of dark clouds and darker grumbling. Celestia drew in a deep breath, stood, and stretched her rear legs. “Wysteria, did you hear back from Ambassador Ghis?”

“I’m afraid not, Your Highness. Forgive my pun, but the griffons have been acting very cagey as of late. I can go find him, if you like.”

“No need. If he cannot confirm his appointment times, then he will forfeit them. You should head home early and enjoy some quality time with Quill and your twins.”

“That would be nice, thank you. I believe I will.”

“How are your wedding plans progressing?” the princess asked as they strode out of the throne room.

“We’re thinking about a year from now.” Wysteria’s voice hummed with delight. “That should give us plenty of time to make all of the arrangements.”

“Wonderful! Forgive me if I am being presumptuous, but if you would like, I would be honored to officiate.”

“I was just considering the proper time to ask, Your Highness. Once I have more details, I will be sure to share them with you.”

Celestia nodded. “Now get out of here. I will see you in the morning.”

“Good night, Princess.”

Celestia watched her secretary’s retreat for a moment, noted the slight spring in her step that hadn’t been there earlier, and then turned to locate her own beloved husband. With Ambassador Ghis’ no show, she now had an unexpected free hour before moonrise, which she meant to spend with the two most important stallions in her life. 

Time well spent, indeed.

“And what’s this one?” Baked Bean pointed to the picture in the fabric book, giving Pollie an eager look.

His son replied with a few gurgles and a questioning look. Bean was pretty extra sure that everything he was trying to teach was going right over Apollo’s head, but it was never too early to start.

“Duck. See?” Bean puckered his lips in imitation. “Quack, quack, quack!”

Apollo giggled at Bean’s antics, and from the open doorway, Bean heard the perfect peals of Celestia’s laughter.

“A fair reproduction, my love,” she said, walking up to them. “You should show me your duck face later tonight, once Pollie is in bed.”

“I’ve tried,” Bean quipped with a quick kiss. “You just laugh at me.”

“Can you blame me?”

“Not at all. Did Ambassador Ghis cancel?”

“He did.” Celestia paused for a long moment in thought. “I suppose it is possible he has been making appointments to simply put a hole in my schedule and canceling so I can spend time with you two. He is a sly old bird.  Anyway, Wysteria will follow up tomorrow and remind him of my cancellation policies. How did your meeting with the Hays and Wheats committee go?”

“About as dryly as you’d expect. I took notes.” He motioned to some loose papers on the changing table in the nursery. “To put it simply, everything is looking good in the agricultural departments.”

“Good. Thank you for attending that meeting for me.” She pecked his cheek, and nuzzled their son who squealed in delight. “And you! I hope you behaved for Mama Nana.”

“She didn’t say anything when I picked him up,” Bean remarked as Celestia gently blew raspberries on Pollie’s tummy. “How was day court?”

“Unremarkable, save for the last petitioner. It seems there is an organization that is dedicated to appreciating the royal posteriors of myself and Luna.”

Bean did not say anything for a long moment. Then, he ever-so-slowly leaned over to observe the posterior in question, considered his words, and asked, “What?”

Celestia took a moment to explain, but Bean still looked delightfully confused once she was done. “That is… weird. Almost sounds like the Mid Chansenhauser era is making a comeback. Did you give him permission?”

“His petition was rejected.” 

Bean stood. “Still listening, just need to use the restroom real quick.” Celestia took his place on the floor, and she pulled a funny face, to Apollo’s great amusement. “And I can see why you turned him down.”

“I try to allow my little ponies the freedom to do as they wish, but there are limits. Adoration and veneration are to be expected, but I always become uncomfortable when ponies begin to worship and idolize. Every so often, I am forced to put my hoof down and remind others that, in the end, I am just a pony like they are.”

“So what will happen to the Royal Rumpers now?”

“Provided they behave themselves, nothing. But I am sure Luna will want a full investigation of their activities, and I wholly sanction it.” Celestia paused as a memory floated up from her subconscious, and she snorted lightly in amusement. “Star Struck is the only pony who is allowed to appreciate Luna’s backside in that manner.”

“I agree.” Bean flushed and washed his hooves before returning. “I’m more of a leg guy myself, but you can hardly blame me for being possessive over your fine flanks, can you?”

“You are the only one who is permitted to admire them so,” Celestia cooed. 

“And I will forever be grateful for that.” Bean rested his head against Celestia's flank and gave his wife a reassuring nudge. “Though I do wish I could do more to help you feel better at times. Flowers, chocolate, and long walks just aren’t doing it. Having a wife and foal is so much more than I could have ever expected, and to have both you and Apollo is just so indescribably wonderful that I run out of words. I sometimes have a terrible thought that I’m only dreaming, and any moment I’ll wake up…” He nudged Celestia’s snow-white flank again, and then paused. He moved his head back and forth a few times, then moved closer to examine something very carefully.

“What?” Celestia looked up with a frown, but her husband was still nose-first against her flank, looking along the grain of her coat just above her cutie mark.

Eventually, he tilted his head again and declared, “You have dapples.”

“I do not,” argued Celestia immediately. “Maybe it’s dirtyikes!!” Bean licked her coat and examined the short white hairs.

“Dapples. They only show up in the light here, and you have to be looking for them. Plus, not many ponies see you from this angle. It's just this little mottled pattern going all the way down your ribs.” He followed them with his nose, giving Celestia a case of the suppressed hiccups.

“Luna has dapples,” insisted Celestia. “I’m just ever so slightly gray in some places.”

“I like them,” said Bean, moving up her ribs with his nose so close to her coat that she could feel him breathing. “Probably because my mother has dapples in a certain light.” He snorted gently, then began to twitch in a case of suppressed giggles.  “You know there's a song about it.”

“There’s a song about everything,” said Celestia, who found her husband’s giggles contagious, much like Apollo who watched them both with sparkling eyes.

“Dad used to sing it in the kitchen before we opened for customers,” he continued, still laughing under his breath and looking far too mischievous. “Mom tried to get him to stop every time, but she never tried very hard.”

“Oh, you’re not going to—”

Her adorable husband took a deep breath, cleared his throat, and began.

“It’s been a while since I’ve heard that one,” Celestia commented through her giggling fit. “Are you sure you’re not seeing something on me that isn’t really there just so you could sing the song?”

“I’d sing it anyway, but they’re there,” he affirmed, tracing a line between the individual dapples on her twitching skin. His playful expression began to fade. “But I’m a bit disappointed that I didn’t notice them before now.” 

“It’s hard to miss seeing what isn’t there,” she said playfully.

“That’s just it, though. You’ve been the Grand Mare of the Morn for centuries now. The only thing ponies have seen in all that time from you is light and goodness and perfection. Whatever little blemishes you have, be they dapples, unflattering personality quirks, or even the darkness you had to inflict as a war charger…” He paused for a moment, his whole demeanor drooping. “All ponies see the light from where they stand, including the one who brings it. And from where she stands, my dear wife can clearly see her own faults and failings—her own inner darkness—and is ashamed of it. No wonder your depression has been so thick.”

“That has been true, in the past.” Celestia pulled her sorrowful husband into a tight hug with her wing, and they both watched the happy wiggles of their son as she continued. “Doctor Cheerilee and I have discussed that, in fact. It was—and still is—difficult for me to see the light that others see in me. I am the example, the leader. I cannot let others see the shadows. I must always present myself perfectly, and all I do must be perfect. When you have to live like that, eventually all you can really see are the flaws, the mistakes, the times when you didn't measure up but hid it from the world.

“And then you nosed your way into my life.” She nuzzled him and kissed his cheek. “You are the first to find the dapples, and to both accept and love them. You see my imperfections, and inexplicably, that only makes me more perfect in your eyes. I can be me with you—dapples and all.

“Bean, though it does feel like we’ve known each other for a long time, we have only been together for about two years. There’s still much we have to learn about each other. Don’t be dismayed about what you haven’t seen; rejoice in what you find. That’s one of many things I enjoy about being with you.”   

Bean nodded slowly, humming a thoughtful note. “I guess so. You know, it kinda reminds me of the yin and yang. How can there be darkness without light, and light without darkness? Nopony can be all one, or all the other.”

“And now I see something about you that I never knew before.” Celestia laughed lightly. “My beloved husband, a philosopher? How interesting.”

“Well,” he said dismissively, “I’m no expert or anything. I just looked into it a little in high school, while I was trying to figure out why I sucked as a chef.”

“Yet you understand the paradox of duality in unity.”

Bean nodded. “That’s why you needed to redeem Luna. Er, one reason, anyway. You balance each other, and in that balance there is Harmony. It can’t exist with just you, or just her.”

“Indeed. All ponies, including myself, must be in balance with each other, and especially with themselves. We have to accept our faults and foibles, our missteps and mistakes. We work to improve and to be better than before, of course. Balance and Harmony, as I am coming to learn, can only be achieved through change and growth, just as day and night continually change. But for us,” she nuzzled Bean’s cheek once more, “the trick is to learn to accept our whole selves, not just the parts that we show to look good for others.”     

Bean pondered this for a moment. “So…”

“No,” she said sternly, albeit with a smile. “I don’t have dapples. I have a faint gray pattern to certain portions of my coat, that's all.”

He wiggled one eyebrow. “That’s the definition of dapples, you know, which means you just admitted I was the first one to find them.”

“Can’t hear you.”

“I’m still going to sing the song whenever it looks like you need it.”

“Still can’t hear you.”