//------------------------------// // XLIX : A Canterlot Dance // Story: The Steadfast Sky // by Greytercakes //------------------------------// The Steadfast Sky : A Canterlot Dance The Grey Potter http://www.fimfiction.net/story/11495/The-Steadfast-Sky http://cosmicponyfiction.tumblr.com ~Celestia~ Every morning I am awoken by the curtains opening. One of the servants parts them, letting the sun gently rouse me. I enjoy imported Darjeeling Tea out of my usual fine china cups. The ones with gold foil and bluebells twisting along the rim. I take my tea with one spoonful of honey. No milk. My morning biscuits are honeyed and buttered for me, spread always laid to the perfect thickness. I undo my night braid and have a servant brush my mane clean. One hundred strokes for each strand, coating them in natural, perfumed oils. My mane shines, well maintained and bobbing just above my knee. I have never been able to afford such a luxury, this symbol of wealth. After brushing, my hair is rebraided, and I am dressed. My closet is overloaded with dresses, both casual and formal, and every day I have a brand new outfit to wear. The servants dress me, tightening, straightening, and perfecting my look in ways I could never do alone. I don earrings, forshoes, aftshoes, and a beautiful golden tiara, all gifts. I wish, some days, that I could experiment with necklaces. But no, my Element must remain firmly affixed to my front. I tip the servants after my makeup is painted. Five shining bits. I attend morning classes. My tutors love me. They’re impressed by my retention of all knowledge, and the grace of my penmanship. I’m well on my way to mastering all things political and economic, and have already put this mastery to good use. My repertoire of spells has expand as well, far past my foalish understanding of light. As the sun, I am guidance, radiance, and warmth. Order, repair, and heat fall under my domain, each carefully and constructively mastered in turn. Past noon, I convene with Fairy Lights, my personal assistant. Chancellor Apple graciously hired this stallion to manage my time, connections, and finances. He also serves as a good butler in trying times. On most days, I have at least one public function to attend, and at least one meeting with a foreign dignitary or chief advisor on important matters. Of course, I have no real power, no role beyond a figurehead at this point. But it is of vital importance to maintain these connections for when I do assume my role as Queen. I am tall. I am proud. I am beautiful and in complete control. Every pony is incredibly eager to get on my good side. Every pony is incredibly flattered by my presence. Wherever I walk, subjects aim to appease. They know me as the Princess of Loyalty. They know I will never waver from supporting them, as long as they never withdraw their own support. Stallions are forever entranced by the sway of my hips. I have a number of different suitors after me, all foolish enough to believe they will win my heart. But, as royalty, I am above showing how overjoyed I am. Being happy or excited for anything is absolutely beneath me. I may be pleased, displeased, or simply detached. Even in my most private of moments, I must be aloof and high-minded, completely above everything, looking down on it from afar. I am the shining example of a perfect princess pony. I am living my dream come true. I am drunk off this life. Really. Actually and probably a little bit drunk. “Wine!” I cried, “Why in all my life would I ever drink another drink? Who drinks cider anyway? Not I!” Apple smiled at me, possibly bemused. “That alcohol is expensive and rare, my Princess!” “Well, I wouldn’t have guessed that from how much these stallions shove it on me!” I giggle and drain the glass, “Apple! Aren’t you supposed to be protecting me from these shameless nobles?” “Who am I to stand in the way of a Princess and her sport?” “An excellent response, my chancellor!” I lean heavily into his cloak, and just watch the dark ballroom swim before me. No one dares talk to me while I stand with Apple. He’s like my guardian earth pony, or an uncle. A proper uncle that doesn’t try to steal my name and money. In fact, Apple has given me a world of advice and help. I trust and rely on him more than any other pony in this city. Oh, I know he’s just playing the Noble Sport. Just trying to get on my good side so he gets all of my favor. But let’s be honest, if you don’t play, the court will eat you alive. And for goodness sake, the man has a teddy bear for a soul! He’s a soft, bumbling politician. Aged, wise, and content with life. And contentment is the number one betrayal inhibitor. He’s fine! He’s happy! But really, whatever festivity I was currently attending was quite dull. Dim lights, low ceiling, a few mumbled toasts, and then everyone simply grazes and mingles like a herd of well-dressed cattle. I do believe this so-called ‘ball’ has simply become a gentleman’s get together. Pipe smoke’s heavy in the air, older stallions mumble through fat white beards. Mares in attendance are brides, merely there as rusting trophies. The younger colts are dapper and bright-eyed, they chase after me like it’s their proprietary business to. A few I recognize as returnee suitors. Fritter, Polar North, Apple Dell…  Apples, apples, apples, everywhere I look and turn! I know I could never take an Apple for my own. With the original Big Apple as a close friend, it would feel like I was marrying a cousin! No, no, no, there is but one stallion who has ever had my eyes… Distant and detached as they are! I am not some lovestruck foal! Just, a mare who enjoys reveling in the Noble Game... He’s here, you see. Even the married old mares turn their heads to glimpse at him. A strong and proud stallion, coat pure white and mane jet black. Cutie mark a simple and elegant goblet, a thin silver outline complementing the curve of his muscular flank. Baron Blueblood, the son of Canterlot’s Chancellor. My male counterpart. The highest caliber of bachelor of status and wealth in this whole city. It’s quite obvious that we were made for each other. He and I, we are engaged in a lockstep dance of stolen glances and snatched words. It’s a competition neither of us speak of, but both understand.  I entangle the stallion’s hearts as well as he ensnares mare’s eyes. Ponies fall before us, running hither tither as they try to appease us with drinks, with dances, with gifts and treats and invitations. Yet never would he and I dare to approach each other. Approaching would demean us. Make us just one of the flock. A pursuer. Our little game of chess would fall apart, battle of wits over. Once, Luna had asked me if Blueblood even knew about “our game.” I told her that asking would make me a fool, and looking the fool is a loss. For this is, ultimately, a battle of wits. And here, deprived of his girlish flock, is my perfect chance to further our game. Tonight is the night. It’s firmly decided and nothing can persuade me otherwise. He is being approached by the wine server. I must depart. “Apple,” I say, “Please do not leave.” Again, he seems on the edge of laughter. “Oh?” “I’m going to go get us some more wine,” I say. “But my Princess, your glass is still half full.” I blink— “So it is,” — and redrain the glass. “There. I have secured my pretense.” “Pretense for…?” He follows my gaze, and merrily barks, “Have eyes for Blueblood do you?” “Who can say?” I flash him my very best mysterious grin. “Don’t you think he’s a little old for you?” I snort. Oh, this was a concern I had heard from far too many sources! But to hear it from my highly respected uncle? The gall! “Young Blueblood isn’t that old!” I haughtily retort, blush burning in my ears, “It’s not like he’s some middle-aged bureaucrat! He is… well, like this wine!” I raise my glass once more, watching the fluid roll around its pitcher. “He’s mature. And I am not some confused little filly! I am a blossoming mare, dearest Apple! Now silence your concerns, I’m off to fetch us more wine! Ta!” I make my way through the crowd, hurrying towards the server with a perfected, graceful trot. Or at least, as perfected and graceful as I can be with the floor rudely wobbling beneath me. Most of the old stallions parted before me, heads bobbing into bows. Silly Polar North tried to approach me again, strike up a conversation. But I easily brush him off, asserting very clearly to him that a lady can fetch her own drink from time to time. Blueblood turned, oh so very slightly. His big, blue eyes secretly sparkled as I approached. They go wide when he’s surprised, when he’s happy. Always accompanied by the slightest smile. A grin so coy, so restrained, and yet so natural to his noble snout. He turned, broad body shifting in my direction, granting me the slightest of bows. A proper response, dignified and simple. Anything more would give away at our personal, private connection! “Princess Celestia.” Goodness, his voice! It is like ear chocolate! “I didn’t realize you were in attendance.” “Oh?” Only now do I look directly at him, and act surprised to see him there. “Yes! Good evening.” I curtsey, head dipping fast enough to feel my brain slosh around my skull. “Blueblood the Younger, was it?” Yes, Blueblood! By showing how little I regard your position, I have gained the upperhand! Now, if you pursue this line of conversation, it will show your vanity and weakness. And I will come from this victorious! He raises his glass, “Honored you remember, Princess.” Indifference. He concedes me the point, but the game is still afoot!  I float my glass to the servant’s tray… still half full! How often have I tried to drain it now? In any case, I ignore my gaff, and do hope Blueblood does not notice either. I float two glasses from the platter before the small colt skitters away. Blueblood raises an eyebrow at me. “One for myself and Stringhalt’s Chancellor,” I explain loftily. “Aren’t you a little young to be drinking, Princess?” Was that honestly what he noticed? No wonder he shrugged off my indifference and the glass, he had a much better card tucked into his breast pocket! My head spins for a comeback. “Goodness, do I look that young?” I giggle. “I assure you, Blueblood. I am no little filly.” “Even grown mares can have trouble with wine,” he replies with a reassuring smile. “Go easy on it, will you?” Oh, does he still seek to patronize me? Or maybe… There was that twinkle in his eyes again. The shimmer from his smile, so comforting and reassuring. Does… Goodness, is this another move in our game, or… or is he actually, purposefully showing weakness, showing that he cares about me beyond our courtly battle? I stand, flabbergast, heart pumping in my ears. Is this an invitation to just relax? Or if I pursue, will he cut me down all the more. Oh, Celestia, don’t just stand there with your mouth hanging open! “Actually, Blueblood,” I say, “Might I ask you a quick question?” “A question?” His head tilts a little, in askance. I try not to swoon. “Personal or business?” “Business.” I think of asking about his father. Ooh, that would burn. But today, right now, I am gauging his sincerity. “You see…” I lean in close, watching Blueblood closely. “What… do you think of Apple?” “Apple?” he smoothly replies, “Which one?” “Chancellor Apple,” I explain. “Why would you ask me?” he laughs, “I thought you and the Chancellor were close.” “Certainly we are!” Secretly, this is why I’m asking the question. Apple understands gossip is a tool like any other. Certainly he won’t mind being a topic for intrigue. “I simply would like an outsiders take on him. Doesn’t really matter who.” The burn slips out before I can stop it. “But we were already talking, so, I thought…” Blueblood’s shoulders roll like a waving cloth. It is the most graceful shrug I have ever seen. His lips part, and I am close enough to hear him inhale a tiny, chocolaty breath. “He’s an upstanding stallion, a gentleman from another age,” Blueblood says. “Loud, but boisterous. If you’re thinking his forceful approaches may hurt you or your reputation, well, I wouldn’t worry. He’s kind. Rather like a big teddy bear, really.” Like a big teddy bear. We’re on the same wavelength! The exact same! And he’s worried that I may get hurt! Oh Blueblood, are you admitting your care and fondness for me? My face flushes pink, I can feel its heat rising. Is this… Is this really… The time when… When I should ask him to another party? As a companion? No, no, that’s going too far! I should ask for a stroll in the garden, to just talk. About things. Oh, it would weaken my position, but Blueblood has practically already invited me! Head spinning, I look up into his eyes, and prepare to ask nonchalantly for a brief, friendly and cordial chat. But before I can, there’s a crash, glass shattering, and a mare’s high-pitched scream. I whip around, yanked out of the moment and oddly furious because of it. Head spinning wildly, I need to know what servant was silly and clumsy enough to drop a tray! What I see is an upended table. There’s a dull thud, a mumbled ‘ow!’ And from the tangle of the tablecloths rises the absolute last thing I ever wanted to see. Long, lanky, dimwitted and underdressed. Discord, fumbling backwards and flat on his rear. “Whoops!” he shouts, no, screeches, “Uh, don’t mind me!” “What were you doing under there?!” the servant cries. Then, hastily adds, “My Prince!” “I didn’t know Prince Discord was invited,” Blueblood mused. “He wasn’t,” I hissed. “Oh?” Blueblood’s eyes twinkle towards me. “Why not?” “He’s not exactly the partying type,” I snort. “He can’t control himself! Just does whatever he likes, not a thought to other people.” “Just… yep!” Discord shouts again, grin lopsided. “Sorry! Leaving! Return to your uh… fancy dinner party. Thing! Fare thee well!” Laughing nervously, Discord backed away to the window. He bumped it open with a flick of his claw and a snap of magic, then threw himself out, soaring off into the clear night. “Sorry,” Blueblood laughs, “But isn’t he your friend?” “Of course he is!” I reply, “What of it?” “Have you tried helping him learn?” And I realize I am angry. My face is boiling. And I’ve lost my cool in front of my courtly arch-rival. Months of artly courting, ruined because of my association with that Draconequus buffoon! Blueblood’s smile is understanding as ever, but goodness do I know better! He is smug, his victory absolute, his single moment of acceptance thrown away like garbage. I’ve been absolutely humiliated, and there was not a thing I could do to recover. Blueblood probably thinks of me as just some child now! Bright pink, I curtsy. “Maybe I should sometime. But really, thank you for this chat, Blueblood.  I must return to my Chancellor.” “Farewell.” Farewell! No! He’s dismissing me completely now! Mocking me with the words of my departed loadstone! I return to Apple with our drinks, quickly draining my own, but all I do is boil and boil and boil on the inside. My collar feels too tight, like its tangled in my braid, and burning up. I couldn’t stay at the party any longer, and Apple was quick to pick up on that fact. My uncle had to escort me out, while I still maintained a paper thin façade. Oh, Apple laughed. Said the wine had gotten to my head. Said that I should lie down, go to sleep. Insult to Injury. That’s all I heard. Denied my Noble Battle, denied my position and place… No sooner was Apple out of earshot did I storm out of my room. Still in my fine dress and jewelry, stumbling on my shoes and hair a muss over my eyes. I’m dizzy, and the floor refuses to sit still, bucking and rearing under my feet. But no matter the floor’s insolence, I’ve already forgotten! Where does that buffoon of a Draconequus live, anyway?! Never had a single reason to even glance his way since we came here… Does he even have one room? Or does he cause every residing chamber to combust upon entry?! “Dis-CORD!” I shouted to the tower walls. “I have a bone to pick with you!” No reply! Just like him to hide from me, knowing that now, after all this time, I am his intellectual superior. I don’t know how I find it. Quite simply, I find it. It’s the door painted in garish and clashing colors with purple, sparkly smoke oozing from the cracks. If that’s not his room. Then I’ll… I’ll I don’t even know! With a blast from my horn, I burst open the door. And there’s Discord. And Luna of all ponies. They both jump, sitting half a room apart on the bed and a pile of pillows respectively. Weird stuff hangs around them. Illusions, toys, magical messes. The purple smoke was coming from what looked like a live volcano oozing molten taffy. Ridiculous! They shout over each other, “Celestia?!” “Big sis?!” I puff up, boiling boiling, boiling. “What were you doing at that party?!” I loudly demand. “Yes?” He gives me a shaky smile, “What party would that be?” “What do you mean ‘what party?!’” I bellow back. “Have you been to more than one tonight?! Have you intruded and upturned every single party in Canterlot on this evening?!” “Celestia,” my sister warns, “I think you need to calm down.” “I am asking Discord a question, Luna, and he is refusing to answer!” My sister turned to the lanky buffoon. She mumbles, “I think you should just tell her.” “Well.” He grins the fangy grin of a complete jerk. “Okay, yes, I was there. And as for what was I doing? I was leaving, wasn’t I?” “Before that!” I snap, “You were doing something weird! Wherever you go, you do strange, bizzare, mean little tricks! Now what. Were you. DOING?!” Discord sat quietly on his bed, arms folded. His smile dribbles away, and his eyes fall level with my own. “Celestia,” he says, “Are you doing ok—“ “No, I am not okay!” I snap. “You ruined something incredibly important to me!” “Celestia,” Luna says, “I think you need to calm down. Sit with us, and let’s discuss this problem nice and friendly-like.” “But really?” Discord says over Luna. “Ruined? I knocked over a table.” “Right when I was about to ask the man of my dreams out on a date!” I loudly reply. Discord stares at me, eyes glazed. “Alright…?” “Come on, Discord,” Luna says, “It’s an important thing to her. Don’t dismiss it.” Again, his eyes drift to my sister, almost uncomfortable. “She couldn’t have just asked him after I upended that table…?” “Oh. Oh of course I could have just asked afterwards!” I cry. “Not like, you know, there’s a very important timing to the matter! No! No, now it could be weeks before I could ask him again, you little monster!” And Discord’s face goes stony. No more shrugging me off. No more laughing at the situation. Oh, I have his attention now. You bet I – “Celestia!” my sister cries furiously. “Luna!” I mock. “You’re acting completely unreasonable!” “Don’t you talk to me about reason, little sister! I’m the cutie mark… spirit…” Oh screw it. “Element over Order and Law! Reason is MY domain, not yours!” “Don’t you pull that shit on me,” She shoots back. “Waving a title around and thinking it makes you right!” My power over the situation flies out the window. I stare at my sister, absolutely aghast. “Goodness gracious Luna. You just said shit.” “Oh yes I did!” she shouts. “And you can’t stop me! Shit, shit, shit, I can say whatever dirty word I—” And then, just reflexively, I stumble forward two wobbling steps and punch her. Right into her left jaw. She made a tiny noise, something close to a gasp, and skittered back. Her head hung low to the ground, leg rubbing the end of her snout. When she drew her knee away, her light fur was stained a dark blue. Blood. There was a snapping sound. A pressure slams down on my back, pushing me to my knees. Purple goop, stuck to the ground, tightening over my spine, bending it. I swear I hear a crack, and I swear it was my spine. And there was Discord, arm outstretched and fingers pinched so tightly, his yellow knuckles were turning white. “You know, Celestia,” Discord says, voice and eyes icy cold. “I’ve been trying to talk to you for what, weeks? Months now? I never wanted to. Dreaded it, even.” He slowly shakes his head. “This is actually turning out far worse than I thought.” His fingers shift, and produce a loud snapping sound. I flinch, but my anger quickly returns. Using sonic magic to scare me? Here? Now? Brat. A lanky, addle-minded brat. He hovers over my sister, presenting her with summoned kerchiefs. “No, no, no, no,” she mumbles, “It’s stopped already. It’s so dry up here… I get these a lot. It’s okay, Discord… She’s not really herself, don’t…” But the Draconequus had already spun back to me, eyes alight. He walks toward me, holding his shoulders high on his foreleg’s tiptoes. He stares down at me, yellow eyes glaring from their deep, shaded sockets…  And here’s me, in this moment, wondering when he got so tall. He stops, and sniffs the air. “You smell like alcohol.” “Oh, well thank you.” “How much of that wine did you drink?” I snort, “I am an adult. I can drink whatever alcoholic beverage I please!” “Just seems a little bit…” He looks around, and miraculously, the anger slowly slips from his face. He waves his hand over my head, and the taffy evaporates. “This isn’t right,” he mumbles, “Uhg. Not right at all. What a long awaited reunion this turned out to be.” “Now,” my sister says, “Let’s all sit down and talk. Together, like we used to. It’s been too long.” “I refuse.” I stumble to my feet, glaring at Discord. He may have found some inner excuse to not wail on me, but my own anger still simmers. If anything, it’s sharper now, the volume pumped up by my shot of fear. “This break from you was fantastic,” I say to the buffoon. “Not being around you made me realize how much I lied to myself about liking you. Looking back, I just had nobody better to talk to! So I forced and forced and forced myself to smile along…” “Big Sis, please,” My sister reaches for me, face tight in pain. “That’s not how you feel. You’re just upset.” “No! I feel so free now! Goodness…” Eyes locked on Discord, I gave him the truth burning inside me. “You’re a selfish, flippant, bratty little prankster. Not good at anything but magic, never going to learn how to lead properly...” He shrugs, “Fine. Leave and go to bed, Celestia.” “AND.” I spat. “I wish these Elements didn’t make us stuck with each other. Then I could just say we aren’t friends anymore!” I charge out of the room before either of them could yell at me. I didn’t want to hear it, not from them, and definitely not from myself. What a thing to say! Where had that come from? I had certainly never thought of ending my friendship... Yet… Not friends with Discord, not having to deal with him, not having to put up with his flippancy and stupid pranks. It seems like that would be such a relief! Like a burden untied from my neck, an annoying little fly swatted and swept away! I quite like the idea, and the more it bounces around my head, the more I enjoy it! Oh, if only we weren’t fated to be together. Fated since the moment he broke into my house. Some childhood friend that we played pretend games with before bed. That’s all Discord was. Did that make us bound forever? Tied to the fate of each other, and the country? Well it shouldn’t have! I’m older now, and a completely different mare! The Elements are completely stupid for having us all thrown together just because we once played dress-up and house! I stumble back into my room and just tear off my fine trappings, dumping them on the floor. It feels good, like I’m freeing myself from these bindings! I even tear out my braid. My mane is going to be an absolute mess tomorrow, but I don’t care! As I step towards the bed, naked and exposed, there’s a soft thumb beneath me. I look down, wondering what it could be. There’s my Element, bright orange gem glinting back up at me. I huff. In my rush to get off all my clothes, I must have accidentally undone its clasp. I wrap my aura around the band and tug it back around my neck, letting it fall back into place. But as soon as my aura vanishes, it slips down my chest and falls back to the floor. The clasp is in working order. The Element seems to be intact and fine. I can still push my magic through it, make lights and effects. But no matter how many times I tug the band around my neck, it absolutely refuses to stay on.