//------------------------------// // A Royal Pain // Story: For Auld Lang Syne // by Mr.Dependable //------------------------------// For Auld Lang Syne Chapter 5: A Royal Pain MLP: FiM Fic by Mr.Dependable February 8th 2012 “Black and white are the colors of photography. To me they symbolize the alternatives of hope and despair to which mankind is forever subjected.” Robert Frank Chapter 5 Joyful banter of mixed conversations flooded the grand ballroom in Canterlot Castle. Complaisant waiters graciously floated between groups of respectable ponies, whom were so entranced by their upper class acquaintances that they didn’t notice the majestic entrance of the one they were awaiting. Like a wave washing through a burly sea, the audience of the greatly anticipated royalty, bowed their heads and halted any conversion in respect. A booming authoritative voice flushed through the open and eerily silent room, which had been a hub of machine gun laughter and deceptively lighthearted small talk just moments before. “ALL RISE IN HONOUR OF PRINCESS CELESTIA!” ordered the Royal Guard. With an outrageous applause, the guests bestowed their gifts of gratitude upon the empyrean princess. Her mane and tail were a vast spectrum of cyan, turquoise, azure and light purple, which constantly flowed as if they were being gently tousled by a permanent breeze. A regal golden yoke, with a captivating amethyst centerpiece, hung diligently and boldly around her neck, accompanied by an awe-inspiring matching tiara. Princess Celestia accepted their enthusiasm with an appreciative, yet deceptive grin. She had despised these formal gatherings ever since she was a filly, when her mother commissioned them. However, that was over 1000 years ago, and something that had been so firmly ingrained into the traditions and culture of the royal Celestial Empire, was not just going to simply disappear. While not as habitual and renowned as the Grand Galloping Gala, the Summer Solstice Soiree demanded her unconditional presence and bouts of chipper dialogue between Equestria’s more prominent figures. She sighed as the inconvenient reality nipped her behind the ear, and brought the fact that she would have to engage the aristocratic ponies in the ballroom bellow. The stallions’ chiseled uniform suits were cold and unnaturally stiff. The mares’ stupefying dresses were spurious and did a mediocre job disguising the insecurities of the seemingly perfect guests. A frown of disapproval stretched more and more across her face with each step down the cascading marble staircase. It was so… “Phony…” she thought to herself critically. “Superficial…” Everypony was so serious, so concerned whether they’d meet their quota for the next quarter, or how the political status of Equestria would affect bi-lateral trade with the Griffon’s, whom were just a short skip across the pond. It defied the definitions of a “party” to her, so much so that it was no longer worthy of the title. What was intended to be a blithe and lighthearted gathering was tainted by the heated debates that concerned politics, economy and even industrial espionage. Celestia thought back to the first time she had remotely enjoyed one of these repulsive formal assemblies. It was when she was just a young filly, not much older than 5 years… how long ago that was. Her sister Luna, who sadly always seemed to play second fiddle to the divine heir to the “Throne of the Sun”, had only just turned 3. Her clumsy and undeveloped hooves had broken the cold tension that plagued their first formal gathering. Within minutes of her entrance, Luna had stumbled into a royal guard, knocked off his helmet that promptly fell onto her head, and in a fit of panic and aversion ran full speed into a royal tapestry. Now blinded by the helmet and draped in a heavy cloak of meticulously created artwork, she attempted to spread her wings, and free herself from the unknown bonds that held her down. The results of her efforts were a quick and painful tumble down the opulent marble staircase into the crowd below. When she was finally released from entrapment, she lept, as expeditiously as she could, between the legs of her mother, where she remained for the rest of the night. The by-product of her adorable misadventure was the complete change in tone of the Gala. Ponies laughed freely, and not once were topics of politics, economics or industrial espionage discussed. It was truly a party, something Celestia had not partaken in again for the next 1000 years… at least until she met Twilight. An abhorrently fat stallion with a thick southern accent and a maladroit white cowpony hat shattered the royal equines complacent retrospection. His suit appeared to be bursting at the seems, and Celestia noticed the sickly sweet smell of cigars on his breath. “Ah deah say yer highness, ya’ll look as pretty as a mink stole tonight.” He puffed between arduous breaths. Celestia recoiled at the thought of this disgusting corporate man. It seemed that the minuscule amount of effort it took to compose a conversation was too much for this misshapen glutton. She paused before quickly replacing her shocked disposition with one of forced gratitude. “Why thank you…” she said in coerced tone, “I do appreciate your… presence... at this… party…” Each syllable of the sentence, she somehow managed to piece together without becoming nauseous, was forced and hypocritical. She didn’t appreciate his presence; he reeked of slimy business deals and edacity. “Ah beg yer pardon, yer highness, bu Ah was wonderin’... Where is your sistah?” he began as a clammy smile tugged at the edges of his plump cheeks, “…Yah wouldn’t have happened to send her ta the moon again, did yah?” The statement shocked and infuriated the princess. A flame burned behind her eyes as his words cut through her calm and clement demeanor like an intimidating claymore sword. Her stomach churned and her mind raced as rage flooded through the veins in her body, and pumped to each appendage. She glared at the horrid stallion that stood before her. With a sharp burst of aggression, she extended her wings, and advanced upon him while her brain rattled off a barrage of colourful metaphors - which she would have actually said if there weren’t any spectators. “I may have granted you the honor of being my guest,” she said coldly and assertively, “But that does not give you the ability to degrade my family. My sister, if you would be so kind as to care, is currently dealing with a growing conflict that concerns orphaned fillies and colts. I suggest you leave promptly before I ask my guards to… “Escort” you out.” The business stallion whimpered and slowly backed away from the raving princess as his ego and confidence receded. He stumbled before turning for the door and hastily galloping towards the exit. Celestia shook her head in abashment as she realized that the entirety of the ponies in attendance stood in flabbergasted silence. While she was one for dealing with situations in the most diplomatic approach, there was one thing that even the calm and collective winged unicorn would not stand for. Most ponies still regarded her sister as a brute… a monster, despite her interjections. For some, the fact that Celestia was forced to exile her own sister to the moon was an understatement, and they deduced that she should have never been permitted back into Equestria. However, it was these notions that made Celestia contemplate and question her drastic actions just over 1000 years ago. Were they really mitigated? She would often find herself asking that question over and over. With one action, which was primarily brought on by fear, the princess had not only ruined Luna’s life and reputation then, but also in the future. No matter how pragmatic her arguments were, some ponies would never accept Luna’s return. Celestia tucked her wings tightly to her sides as her cheeks began to glow red, and returned her thoughts to ones of peace and serenity. She was ashamed of the way she had brutalized the poor stallion, he had only been trying to fabricate a small chuckle from the obviously spiritless royal. In an act to redeem what little joy was left in the evening, Celestia detached herself from the crowd, which was just starting to pipe into multiple conversations again. She politely excused herself out through the stained glass patio doors and, and ventured into the lavish courtyard gardens. The moon offered a pallidly lit path that guided her to the center of the royal oasis. Azaleas and yellow tulips blossomed like a coruscating sun, and constructed a similar pattern to the solar royal mark on her flank. This was her most esteemed location in the entirety of Equestria. The voluptuous cascading flower baskets and the saccharine scent of blossoming trees condoled her, and helped solve the most complex problems to remedy. She truly and unconditionally loved her sister, and it were these moments of desolation that required the special care of a kinsperson. Unfortunately, that level of comfort was unattainable, and she would have to make due with what she had at her disposal. “Mam, there is a message for you…” interjected a gruff voice. The stoic stallion that stood at attention behind her was equipped with platinum armor, which gallantly displayed the crest of the P.R.G. on his chest plate. The Personal Royal Guard were the elite of the elite, hand picked by the Master General himself. The crest featured a white and blue shield, split down the middle. On one side was the mark of Luna, a crescent moon sitting desolate in a blotch of dark purple that represented space. On the other half was a copy of the image that the gardeners had spent hours cultivating in honor of the princess, a very pagan styled sun. Sprouting from the sides of the elaborate outline of the crest were two wings, one white and one dark blue reaching around towards the heavens. On top of the shield rested two interpretations of Luna and Celestia with horns hovering just mere millimeters apart and a replication of both their crowns upon their heads. Finally above the two royal sisters was the pet of Celestia, Philomena. With wings outstretched, as if begging for the observer to embrace the fantastical bird, and a tail of fiery reds and oranges. The sleek aesthetically pleasing phoenix sat suspended above the two royals. Written in gothic script along the borders of the crest were the words Servire Et Tueri Est Sola Officium Muem Existance, which roughly translated to, To Serve and Protect Is The Sole Duty of My Existence. During her moment of admiration, Celestia became conscious of the implications of the P.R.G. soldier’s presence. While they were the private guards of the royals, they were under strict orders to never engage the family unless addressed by one, or if an urgent letter arrived in their private chambers. “Shall I escort the Princess to her room?” he asked formally. Celestia bowed her head in aloofness before waving away the uncomfortably deadpan stallion. She was perfectly capable of making her own way to her chambers, and the company of a guard seemed redundant in the well-protected palace. Besides, there was a small detour she was hoping to make unaccompanied. ****** A small fire crackled in an ornate fireplace and cast shadows across the dimly lit room. Candles were littered throughout the chamber, and a grandiose arched window overlooked the eastern horizon. The moon was still soaring high in the murky night sky, and the stars twinkled in uniform monolithic amicability. Fortuitous wooden doors made of solid oak and traced with gold leaf, stood proudly at the only entrance to the magnificent chamber. Despite their massive size and heavy appearance, Celestia was able to open them with minimal effort. Her horn glowed and small spark lazily twisted and looped towards the entryway. It splashed against the old wood, and dissipated across its elaborate finish; Instantaneously, the doors creaked open, permitting entrance to the royal abode. Celestia gave an urbane nod to the fatigued looking guard stationed at her door, and surprisingly, he smiled back and said good evening in a warm and welcoming tone. Celestia adored her room; it used to be her mothers. She dragged hooves languidly across the soft wool carpet, which covered the entire room. “Alone again…” she thought as the princess set her baronial headpiece onto a soft royal-red cushion. In front of her on the table, was a single rolled scroll with the insignia of Twilight Sparkle’s cutie mark on the front. The first thought that crossed her mind, after years of repetition, was that she had something new to report about the magic of friendship. However, the penny dropped when she realized that those messages had ceased twenty years ago. The penny became an anvil as she realized how long ago twenty years actually was, and deduced the age of her most faithful student. When the depressing anvil hit bottom of her stomach, it did so in time with the ominous *thud* of the heavy wooden doors closing behind her. Like a death contract being sealed with the shaky hands of a mortal, she couldn’t help but envisage the worst possible conclusions. The author of the private message, combined with the old age of the pony she had spent years teaching, dug up emotions that she had attempted to bury so many times before. With a quivering heart, Celestia reached out with her magic and grasped the parchment tightly in her telekinetic hand. She stared apprehensively at the letter as time slowed and her hooves glided graciously through the air. With tentative steps she coasted towards the capacious violet cushion that rested before the fireplace. The princess collapsed onto the orbicular pillow and cautiously unraveled the veraciously composed letter. What was imprinted upon the parchment had confirmed her deepest fears, and with a gasping sob, the feelings of sorrow she had tried to banish over a century ago, reemerged. ****** Luna trotted gleefully down the majestic and floridly decorated hallway towards her sister’s chambers. It had been a long and fruitful trip and she was eager to discuss the details with her only family. The Summer Solstice Soiree had ceased, and the last of the guests had departed almost an hour ago. Luna knew how much her sister despised those types of gatherings, and felt a pang of guilt as she realized that Celestia would have had to face the hordes of business ponies alone. She thought to herself, and made a mental note to apologize in the most forthright possible way. She rounded the last corner and continued down the corridor, which led to Celestia’s room. The private guard, who was stationed outside her door, dozed idly in and out of consciousness as his head bobbed rhythmically. Luna tsk’d loudly as a malicious smile spread across her face, and a plan began to impregnate itself in her mind. As inaudibly as she could, Luna tiphoofed her way to the side of the sleeping guard. With an insidious breath, she prepared herself for something she hadn’t performed in a considerable amount of time. With all her might she executed the loudest traditional Royal Canterlot Voice she had ever made. “WHAT ART THOU DOING!” She bellowed. The guard’s head shot upright and his eyes widened in sheer trepidation and shock. His hoofs shuffled and slid out from under him before he responded with a timid, “Who goes there?” Luna snickered and brought a hoof up to her mouth in an attempt to intercept the rising urge to burst out laughing. The guard, realizing what had transpired, cleared his throat audibly, while a carmine blemish materialized on both his cheeks. Then, with what little amour-propre he had left, returned himself to attention. Still admiring her successful escapade against the slumberous guard, Luna opened the doors into Celestia’s chambers. However, her heart and spirits plummeted when her eyes registered the despondent scene before her. The fire, which had been blazing radiantly, sat discarded and unattended to, and was now a pile of smoldering ashes that cast eerie shadows across the room. Only a handful of the copious amount of candles were still lit and burning. Papers, assorted furniture and miscellaneous fabrics lay recklessly strewn across the room. At first, Luna thought that her sister’s chambers had been ransacked; Celestia kidnapped while the guard had been off in his damned dreamland. However, her eyes adjusted to the dolorous darkness, and her gaze fell upon her sister’s comatose body laying in front what used to be the fire. As she gingerly navigated her way towards the fireplace, Luna noticed a rainbow of photographs that were old and faded on the left, and got progressively newer moving towards the right. She peered over her sister’s sleeping form, and made out four ponies in the left furthermost picture. The figures it featured wore massive smiles and waved at the camera boisterously, as if personally saying hello. Each picture had a different sized group, some as small as three, but never larger then the six who were captured in the frame of the picture that Celestia held tightly in her hoof. It was at that moment, when Luna was peering intriguingly at her sister’s display of history, that Celestia awoke from her slumber. “Luna?” she said in a disturbing tone, “You’re back. How was the trip?” She ignored her sister’s enquiry, and probed for an answer to the peculiar scene she stumbled in upon. “Tia… what’s this?” she asked slightly perturbed. Her sister sighed heartily before stiffly gathering herself onto her hooves. A letter slid off Celestia’s back, and flitted to the ground as she arose. The princess hastily snatched it up before Luna had a chance to observe what was inscribed on the piece of brown parchment paper, and began to restart the fire and candles. As the flames caught the fresh pieces of wood that were placed with the utmost of care, Luna could see a tear trickle down her sisters face, and make out the faint sizzles and pops as it connected with the scorching heat of the fire. ****** “It’s happening…” whimpered Celestia ambiguously. Her sister sported a puzzled complexion as she tried to decipher what the saddened princess had just affirmed. Celestia knew this day was coming; in fact, she had experienced similar events many, many times before. However, each occurrence of the unfortunate event called “aging”, felt worse then the last. While she herself did not have to worry of growing old any time soon, the sacrifice she payed for her extended life was long ago determined to be much worse. From the day she was forced to banish her sister to the moon, Celestia had attempted to fill the hole Luna left with the affection of a friend, or friends to be more precise. While they did their best, their friendship was never a perfect replication of a sisterly bond. So much so that she found herself staring into the night sky, haplessly pondering her actions, multiple times. All the while, her attachment to her new found acquaintances grew stronger and stronger, right up until the day they died, and she had to live on alone. The pain and suffering that Celestia went through was unequivocal to anything she had ever felt before. Her mother had not actually died. She had simply moved away, and just as Luna, she would someday return to the royal halls. Loosing a family member for a prolonged period of time was one thing, but at least they would return at some moment in the future. Losing someone to death was drastically different . The years passed, and bonds grew strong and shattered between the Celestial ruler and a select few of her subjects. Each generation tore a progressively larger hole in the heart of the amicable princess as she desperately attempted to cling to the ones she loved for as long as she could. However, each group succumbed to the same unstoppable force, and left her in a pit of despair. Now, the current six she referred to as friends were reaching the same moment in time that she knew all to well. However, this occurrence was contra-distinctive to other losses. This time, she was not only bidding adieu to friends, but she was also saying goodbye the closest thing she had to a daughter. “Do you know what it’s like to feel the pain of death Luna?” queried Celestia. Luna was shocked at her blunt question, but began to put together the pieces of the puzzle, which lay strewn across the room. The photographs, the letter, the time. “Tia…” she gulped, “… please sit down.” The Princess consented to her sisters request and plopped herself down amongst the pile of photographs and letters which were littered across the cushion like fallen leaves. She began to speak. “For the past one-thousand years, I’ve watched countless friends wither and die while I stayed young. The suffrage it brings is the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to deal with. The worst part is each time it happens, the period we spent together feels shorter and shorter, but the bond grows stronger and stronger. Just now, when I’m beginning to get settled in with my new friends, when I forget the pain and sorrow that comes along with their death, time hits me hard in the face. It reminds me that... That they will die, and I will live. But this time, I’m loosing much more then a friend… I’m loosing the closest thing I’ll have to a daughter.” Celestia broke down in to a fit of tears and overflowing emotions as Luna tried consoling her. She glanced at the parchment and as her own emotions began to break through the barrier that contained them, and she asked a question. “…Twilight?” she whispered. Celestia frowned as she realized that the day of her death was approaching too, and replied before she buckled under the poignant emotional cascade. “No… Rarity… She’s very sick.” Luna’s eyes welled up as she too began to feel the calamity of the situation set in. But at that moment she had an idea, a brilliant idea that could save, not all, but at least one of her sister’s friends… the one who mattered most. However, this scheme would require complete consent from both parties. With a burst of courage she welled up enough self-confidence to say the one thing, which decide the fate of Twilight Sparkle. “The Royal Descendants Spell…” she cooed softly. “If Lady Twilight agrees, she’d becomest like thy.” Celestia bolted up right and shook of the tears that had engulfed her body like dust. She knew the implications of such a spell. While it would save Twilight, the rest of her friends would perish from old age. It was a momentous decision, and it was something that Celestia was unsure that she wanted to thrust upon her most faithful student. If she were to accept, Twilight would suffer the same emotional torment that she, herself, was forced to grieve through. “I… I don’t know Luna,” she quivered, “It’s an awfully big decision. One that I can not make so quickly.” Luna let a consolidating smile crack at the corner of her mouth. “Thou don’t have to Tia. Take all the time thou needest. But what thine thinkest thou should do now, is write to her. Remind her and her friends that thou, too, are their friend. If what thou speakest is true about Lady Rarity, then thou should make every moment last.” And so, in lieu with her sister’s request, Celestia re-commissioned the letters between her and her student. However this time instead of weekly they were to be daily. The letters cascaded back and forth, and it seemed that both parties were beginning reconstruct their shattered emotions. Each day was a new bright light, which shone high above their heads and boosted their morale. At least until the day that the news of Rarity’s departure materialized before Princess Celestia in the form of a brown parchment scroll. And instead of being marked with Twilight’s cutie mark, this scroll sported the insignia of Rarity’s diamond pattern. End of Chapter 5 Author's Notes: I don't like this chapter very much... It feels clunky and unfinished, yet I can't seem to write it in any other way. Sorry if it's not up to par. I promise next weeks chapter will be far superior... I guess it might be my lack of compassion/emotion right now. I learnt that a very good friend of mine passed on this weekend... it wasn’t really passing on for her, but more of a cruel and bitter reminder that our lives are not always in our own hands. It’s got me thinking… my minds all shuffled together right now. I wrote sort of a confession/monologue about what’s going on in my mind., if you want to read it, It’ll be posted on my blog. Nothing romantic I’m afraid though if you’re searching for that, just an honest friendly goodbye. You’re dependable friend. Mr.D