//------------------------------//
// Chapter 1 - Frustration 
// Story: The Worth of Words 
// by StormyVenture 
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Morning

Celestia sat in front of her papers. The events of a week past brought to mind by a passing glimpse in the street and an offical visit to one of Canterlot's many orphanages that morning. Trying to dodge the paperwork had only gotten her fixated on her response to Twilight's need to regain her composure after the shocking revelation that she was adopted and her off the handle reaction to it.

“Just words.” Was that all it really was? It was and it wasn't. She knew that, literally speaking, it was true at some level, but deep inside it didn't sit well. Avoiding the real truth forever might save her some face and a measure of order, but knowing that Twilight didn't know hurt deeply. This was one of those secrets that didn't want to be kept, even if it made logical sense at the time. There was also the slight chance that Twilight might figure it out on her own, some day.

Still, what would Twilight think if she knew? How much would it hurt to know that her mother was one and the same with her teacher, the solar diarch of Equestria? It was bad enough to be adopted, such a thing couldn't be undone. To be adopted generally meant that you had been abandoned. Such a thing was not well received. Most ponies felt that it was only tolerable when nothing else could be done. Among the lower classes, those without the idiocy nobles seemed with their birthright, it was up there with the worst things imaginable a mare or stallion could do to their child short of infanticide and neglect and a few others. Ten years of working with your teacher and never knowing she was your mother, never knowing why you of all ponies might receive better treatment than most even from a kind and benevolent leader.

Celestia sat there for several hours considering what she should do, besides what she had done in the past. She wanted to tell Twilight, but aside from the immediate consequences there were so many ways harm could be caused. She didn't want to drive any kind of wedge between Twilight and her parents, nor drive Twilight away from her by cause of hurt and betrayal of a sort. On the other hand, she knew that if she never told her, it would hurt forever not to have ever had that chance, the very one she'd suffered so much for. To have a child of her own, and not be the source of more royal disputes.

Resolving to speak with her sister, Luna, later. She forced herself back to work with the practiced ease of a ruler with more than a thousand years under their belt, shoving her thoughts and distress into a distant corner of her mind.

Evening

“Gah!, why hast thou let in the light?!”, gasped Luna, tugging the sheets further over her head when the light awoke her. 

The pegasus mare adjusting the curtains freaked out and slammed into the wall behind her. Once she had regained her footing and her composure, she stood stiffly.

“Will your majesty be leaving bed today?”, she inquired, hesitantly.

Poking her muzzle out from under the covers, Luna yawned. “Is it time already?”, she demanded, squinting at the mare.

“Indeed, err, yes, your highness.”, squeaked the mare whose nerves were almost completely shot from the sudden shock a moment ago.

Grumbling, the princess of the night slid out from between the sheets and onto the floor. She levitated her tiara and shoes over with her magic and slid them on with a combination of practiced ease and the constant reminder of a thousand years without the burden of them. With a sigh, she trotted to her personal bathroom. She scowled at the mirror, which reflected her disheveled look and uncombed coat, a frustration, despite the near perfect state of her part-ethereal mane (which resisted ordinary bed-head). "Ugh,.. why must the night be so short.", she muttered to herself. She lifted her brush and straightened out the worst, removing the knots. "Can't have all those servants crowding around me, complaining about the way I look...". Then she trotted out the door and down the stairs.

Celestia sat on a plush cushion, absentmindedly chewing on her salad, reading the news, and pining for a slice of cake. When Luna arrived, she looked up from the salad long enough to greet her, the stresses of the day just barely evident. 

"Good Evening, Luna."

Luna yawned, for the second or third time that evening.

"Good Evening, sister, though I wish it were dark already."

Celestia sighed. She knew her sister well. About halfway through their meal, Celestia was reminded of an occasion a good many years ago when Twilight had arrived for their lessons half asleep. This broke her concentration and brought on a mournful sigh. From the other end of the table, Luna heard it, and wondered. She cocked an eyebrow with a confused expression on her face. Ever since her return, her sister's disposition hadn't been anything less than sunny. She had suspected that Celestia was putting on a good face; after all Luna knew a little of what politics could be like and that in retrospect the last thousand years had been hard on her sister. This look was a new one, though, at least since her return.

"Sister?"

Celestia, distracted from her internal contemplations, directed her gaze towards her sister.

"Yes, Luna?"

For a moment, Luna grappled silently with her words, considering them. Finding it too hard, she reverted to using words she was more familiar with.

"Why art thou upset? Has something happened?"

Celestia burst into tears for a moment, then fled the dining hall with as much dignity as possible, teleporting away in a flash of light once around the corner. The princess of the night sat with her mouth wide open, utterly confused at the reaction. 

Several minutes later, having recovered, she closed her mouth, hoping nobody had seen her behavior. Being the impulsive sort, she went off to seek her sister, but with much less haste.  She walked quietly and quickly through the halls to her sister's chambers. On her arrival, the guards gave her an uneasy look, but let her approach. Obviously they knew something was up, or at least they had an inkling.