The Skies Above Canterlot
By Juvenal
Today had been a very excellent day for science in Equestria. As the official (and only) Astronomer in the land, it had been his duty to log the transit of a planet across the Equestrian sun. It was eerily similar to the transits he was used to at home – much like a transit of Venus, the second planet in their local system was passing in front of the sun, visible as a dot. Equipped with a simple telescope and a piece of paper, he projected a bit back for the viewing pleasure of the few ponies present. It was a magnificent site, as far as simple Astronomy goes, and the viewing pleased him. It was a rare day where something like this might happen, and even rarer when ponies would take notice and care. The greatest advancement for sciences, he thought, was to make sure science would pass on.
Quickly as it came, the event passed and ponies dissipated. It wasn’t a particularly good viewing, unfortunately. Clouds passed by and without a very strong showing from that sun, the event wasn’t captivating for the audience. Only the most studious ponies cared about the stars, and even fewer about seeing some light hit a paper. But it was what he could do with the tools he had, so he thought no more of it. He had no time to worry, and little time to record his observations – a royal feast was being held later and he was due to report today’s work – to the Princesses, no less! So he scribbled what he could down, walked around his little observatory, and donned the haphazard suit he had had custom made. He was the only human ever seen in this land, and the local tailor had struggled to make clothing for the odd dimensions of an ape. It didn’t help that human fashion and pony fashion disagree, so he naturally drew many eyes as he walked about the Canterlot’s town square.
The day waned to the midafternoon by the time he’d made it north to Canterlot Palace. The feast was to begin soon, so he hurried to the banquet. It was in massive banquet hall, with many tables of massive lengths leading up to a much smaller (but grander) Royal table. The hall was decked with finery and sophisticated ponies that flocked to the court in hopes of Royal praise, and the grandness of the hall certainly spoke of the riches they could gain. But despite the grandness of the hallway, he was a bigger wonder to the guests. As he progressed towards his spot at the table of honor (a position he did not care for, it brought even more attention to him when he already garnered far too much). Occasionally, well-to-do mares and stallions would approach him and ask questions about him and his species, “What is a human?” “How do you stand on so few legs?” “Is having so little hair cold?” “Is it true you eat meat?”
He’d answered those questions so many times, to so many people… Do they even remember that there’s a person in this body? He wondered. But he didn’t want trouble, and wanted to make good time as to get back home to his quiet observatory on the hill, so he quietly answered and continued onwards.
After fighting through the better part of the crowd, with one particularly insistent pony demanding “to see if he really doesn’t have hooves in those weird rubber things at the end of your legs”, the royal guard found him and escorted him to his spot at the table. He breathed in deeply and released, preparing to see the royals. The Royals could lop off his head if they saw fit (and according to the books he read as a boy, royals often did), so he was deeply afraid of speaking out line.
To his chagrin, the royals had not yet come. Instead, he was at the VIP tables with all manners of famous ponies, all of which he dared not disappoint for fear of the backlash. But instead of the quick in and out he’d desired, instead he faced more questions.
“How did you get to Equestria, again? I believe you said you were from another place, called…Erff?” One particularly posh stallion asked.
He silenced a groan before it came out, no-one ever pronounced Earth correctly. But at least they are asking about him as if he were a person with a story, and not an object.
“It all began eight months ago, six months before I became the royal Astronomer. On my own world, Earth (he emphasized, with just a tint of irritation); I was observing an alignment of planets. Strangely, when the planet aligned I heard a strange humming noise. “He stopped, and attempted to reproduce the hum. It was a bit off; considering it had been eight months he thought it was a good recollection - somewhere between the warm-up sound of a television and a honeybee.
“It wasn’t exactly a normal noise, so I went to find out where it came from. It was pitch-black, so I walked straight through some sort of portal without even knowing it. I was disoriented the second I touched the market’s ground, so I fell flat on my face. Naturally, the huge thump of a weird ape-thing scared the willies off of everypony at the market, so they started panicking and I got trampled unconscious.” The table laughed, which he figured was a good sign. No sense boring impressionable people, he figured.
“When I came to, I was under arrest by the Equestrian guard and they’d taken my clothes off. Some old stallion, a science-y type, poked me with a stick… and I asked him if his mother had taught him to never mess with strangers!” There was another laugh, but this one felt forced. Well, one for two isn’t bad.
“So to save you all the boring details, they kept me confined for a few days until they was sure I didn’t breathe fire or eat ponies and then sent me to the science labs. Fortunately, one good assistant figured I was living being with a body and a mind and got the powers that be to give me an audience.” With a look of graciousness, he motioned at the Royal chairs. He really did need to thank them again for that; they’d probably saved him from a life of experimentation.
“They graciously relieved me of my shackles, and even commissioned me as the Royal Astronomer I am today. First one ever, to boot!”
Interest had clearly left, and the story had been too long for the taste of all the ponies at the table. They all sat and gave their two cents to each other – the closest ones openly praised the Royals’ assistance, and the farthest ones he could hear sounded like they weren’t convinced that he wouldn’t eat ponies. A time passed, and finally a fanfare interrupted conversation.
The trumpets blared, and banners swung down from the upper balconies of this fine hall. Guards that had been watching from the walls sped into military file, edging a walkway that no one but the Royals would grace. A proud-voiced announcer pronounced the entry of the two royals with all due enthusiasm (and a hint of pride, for getting to announce it). The two Royals, Princess Celestia and Princess Luna flowed down the hall. They weren’t as elaborately dressed as most of the guests, but were certainly regal – their fine metal shoes shone brightest in the hall, their royal collars screamed of a dynastic greatness, and their adorning crowns demanding the respect of the absolute rulers of the realm (and especially its jewelers, with their lustrous design).
They were beyond magnificent. Words cannot express the refinement, the care, the beauty, the thoughtfulness, the perfection of even their steps towards their chairs. And everypony in the room knew it, bowing not just out of habit but genuine concession of the Royals’ superiority. The Astronomer did as well, but with a touch of thankfulness in his bow. They seated themselves, and began all royal thanking and formalities that princesses are expected to fulfill. He played with his fingers. Their stare always pierced him, when it came to him, and it was hard to remain merely composed when just listening to them. What if I say something rude? Or stupid? They could decommission me and I’d most surely go back to the labs for study! He feared. He resolved that he must stay professional and proper, lest he lose freedom and home.
They eventually called on him to report his findings, after mentioning probably every wealthy or famous pony in Canterlot at least once in passing. With all eyes, Royal and otherwise, he attempted to repeat his findings with whatever shred of showmanship he could. Moving his hands and arms, eyes and body movements all went in to desperately make a dot moving across a piece of lighted paper sound interesting, but based on the audience he wasn’t succeeding. Most stared glassy-eyed at him, with a few exceptions from the obviously scholarly ponies in the room. The princesses, obviously, both paid the respectable attention they had to give as royals; but he couldn’t help but shake something was different about Luna’s expression.
Her eyes were wide-opened, and her attention was pointed solely at him. Her sister maintained a professional amount of interest, and kept eye contact, but Luna had more. She watched every motion intently, every fact carefully, every syllable excitedly. Her smile rose up just a bit, causing a very unprofessional dimple to rise in her cheeks. But that was silenced quickly and she returned to her former state. He couldn’t quite parse why she was so abnormally interested. Maybe it was just polite, since everypony else looks bored? He thought.
He finished his discussion on the orbit and its similarity to heavenly bodies from his home, and gave the floor back to Her Royal Highness, Princess Celestia. But as the discussion advanced, the main topic dissipated and the conversation decentralized. Celestia conducted her conversation to the side of the table away from him; but Luna was engaged with his side’s talks. While much of the talk came about some wealthy land owner and his recent farming improvements, the regal (and booming) voice of Luna addressed him directly:
“Did you notice any unusual movements of the stars during the engagement? Did you see them shimmer especially? Did they move smoothly? Did you see new ones because of the darkening of the sun?” She spat out rather quickly. He got a sense that she was excited, like a mother hearing complements about her children.
“Ahem, excuse me. I mean, did you enjoy the stars during this event?” She much more calmly asked.
“Well, yes. I did, I enjoy seeing all stars, to be honest. It’s been my passion and work as long as I can recall, even before I arrived here. Goodness, I can recall my first spyglass and how I used it to see our Moon. It was a lovely thing, though a bit less clear through our atmosphere than yours. Through Equestria’s sky, it looks like a gem…” He mused, rather entranced by the memory. Halos form around Earth’s Moon because of clouds getting in the way; with Pegasi managing the clouds in Equestria, every night was a clear night and no streetlights could interfere with the crystal-clear viewing.
Luna reacted very well. That smile rose up again, but was again dashed to a more conservative one. “I’m very pleased to hear that your observations are going well. Most ponies lack that sort of love of their craft, and hearing that humans have such drive… it’s impressive.”
Being a human always comes up, doesn’t it? He mused. At least I’m pleasing the Royals, my job is safe. The unprofessional smile crept up on his face. She saw it, and responded with a brighter, but still conservative smile.
Luna didn’t engage him in conversation any more that night, though he occasionally caught her glancing at him. He meant to keep appearances, and tried to hold a straight face. He didn’t need to let her see how incredibly relieved he was that he hadn’t blown his career. Fortunately, the festivities had to end in time for the Royals to manage dusk’s more demanding stellar movements.