Wroth Sentiments

by The Apologetic Pony


1: Innocent Bickering

In deepest of forbidden archives, Twilight Sparkle felt a tear roll down her cheek. Celestia had told her not to go here, despite that she’d graduated from being Celestia’s student long ago. So many lifetime’s ago. Twilight assumed that this was what she meant, some warped way of “being ready” betraying her ex-mentor’s trust.

The lavender alicorn wiped her tears away, she couldn’t allow it to fall on the book. Literature in all it’s forms was still precious to her, if not more so than before. Though she was nearly blinded by her rage. How could she, seemingly so merciful have killed Philomena? Being a Queen herself, Twilight Sparkle understood the value of keeping it a secret, but even so...

It had been countless years since she’d taken the weight on her shoulders and her shoulders alone. She hated it. To her, they were symbols of the friends she’d left behind. Taunting, haunting reminders of her unnatural fate as well as her apparent powerlessness to stop it. Unlike the sisters, she was still young for an alicorn, she hadn’t been quite forced to abandon her empathy yet.

Cadence hadn’t been able to cope with the death of her husband. They’d bound her in chains and electric-shocks. They didn’t do any good. She found a way to escape from it all eventually, escape from everything. Twilight was almost the same, when all her fillyhood friends passed away. The sisters had pulled her back from the verge, but were secretly full of regret they’d let it come so far, nearly ruining their little project. Or at least, that’s how Miss Sparkle saw it. Against her better judgement, she still saw herself as delusional, clinging onto big sister Celestia, thinking she still had a place her in heart. But like the sisters’ regrets, it was kept in a shallow grave of the mind.

Twilight had slowly transitioned into a position of greater power than the sisters. They were now seen as pseudo-advisers to the queen. Twilight found herself storming toward the chamber in which Celestia conducted various affairs of the kingdom. Normally, the multitude of awkward looks she got from all the ponies who saw her state would have bothered her, instead she barged right on through. When she did reach Celestia, the guards and aids were wise enough to exit without a word. This wasn’t the first time Twilight had acted this way.

The place now devoid of other ears, Celestia disgruntledly addressed Twilight.

‘What has the little princess thrown a tantrum about?’

Twilight had conveniently brought the book with her; she threw its weight onto the floor in front of the other alicorn. It took several moments for Celestia to recognise it and when she did, her eyes widened considerably at first, but her expression quickly changed to the wry grin she’d come to know. In Twilight’s experience, she only made that expression when she was pleased. And pleased she was. For one reason or another, she could remember it being kinder in a time so far from now it was not worth thinking about. She did so anyway.

‘Is this what I think it is, Twilight? Did you finally muster up the courage to go where I told you not to?’

‘Why would you make me do it,’ she said, vulnerability and doubt hidden behind a dense veil of anger.

‘I didn’t make you do anything, Twilight. You did exactly what I told you not to by your own free will.’

‘Of course you did! It was another one of your stupid tests that you used to coax me into agreeing to bear the elements!’

‘You were never forced into any one of them. Blaming me won't help either of us, so don’t,’ Celestia said, tone edging onto something a little heavier.

Twilight huffed in frustration, before turning her attention back to the book on the floor. But Celestia spoke again, interrupting whatever the bearer might have been planning.

‘I must admit, I had expected you to find it before now.’

The pair had begun to slowly gravitate towards each other, taking little steps. Though perhaps this was only for the sake of convenience of the conversation.

‘And this too?’ Twilight was bitter that this, so far, had all come under Celestia’s grand scheme.

‘Suspending your disbelief would leave me in a powerful position...’

‘For Tartarus’s sake, answer me!’ Twilight took a heavy step forward; their faces mere inches away from each other, however Celestia remained sitting comfortably.

‘Grow up will you foal,’ she abandoned the throne and towered above the queen. But then, for once, something that Celestia had not expected to happen happened. Twilight hit her. Celestia slumped back on the throne again, more out of bewilderment than the force of the strike. That isn’t to say it didn’t hurt, but like just about everything in the pseudo-goddesses lifetime, it wasn’t as if she hadn’t felt the sting before. Her white coat was going to be as inconvenient as ever. To her mild surprise, the mare wasn’t galloping for the doors, or slinking back in shame, instead she just stood steadfast, glaring.

‘So it’s come to this has it, Twilight Sparkle?’ Twilight did not react whatsoever. ‘If you are so determined, I won’t resist. Ask me anything you’d like,’ Celestia said, pausing between sentences to explore her slightly numbed cheek.

Twilight carefully levitated the book containing the details of Philomena’s fate to her side.

‘Is everything in here true?’

The seated princess was hesitant, it was one of those inconvenient details that Discord had once loved to prey on and still did, she suspected. She waited as long as she could, just before Twilight would demand an answer again.

‘I don’t know. I-’

‘What do you mean you don’t know? You must know! You were the one that- that-’

‘Twilight,’ Celestia urged calm. ‘I don’t know, because I haven’t read it- now let me finish. I do try to be a mare of my word, you know that.’

To the Queen, this pattern of speech was eerily reminiscent to the one Luna had spoken to Philomena with, when she was explaining the terms the phoenix would be killed under. Her anger told her to ignore it.

‘In short, Lua insisted that I not read it.’

Twilight’s inability to catch Celestia where she did not want to be infuriated her to no end. She was convinced this godly perfection was an illusion conjured as a product of all the years Twilight had spent under Celestia’s teaching and yet she was also fearful of it. Once again, her anger told her to ignore it all.

‘I’ve always wondered if it was as terrible as she said...’

As Twilight had understood from the cursed tome and experienced herself, immortals didn’t get along very well. They were just so sick of each other, of their collective suffering... Of everything. She had thought a little about how it had been possible for the celestial sisters cope, but presumed that Luna too, had her own little banishing tricks. Lacking an obvious route to vent her directed frustration, the former unicorn kept the pressure up, now feeling the slightest bit guilty at the growing bruise on Celestia’s cheek.

‘It damn well was! You were a selfish tyrant back when you’d just banished your sister!’

‘This isn’t fair, Twilight. I have no idea what’s in that book.’

‘I don’t believe you!’

‘You don’t have to, but it doesn’t change anything. Don’t let your anger make you more of a fool than you are. You're better than that,’ Celestia said, slowly reaching towards the torn alicorn for an embrace.

‘Don’t you touch me,’ Twilight growled, leaping back. ‘Don’t you dare touch me.’

Celestia verged on breaking into venomous sarcasm, she’d had enough of this insolence. If Luna's rebellion had taught her anything, it was that behaviour like this needed to be crushed swiftly... But she couldn't bring herself to do it. She knew that out of all ponies, she shouldn't be struggling between what was empathetic and what was moral. So strange it was, to see the foal all grown-up. Instead of carrying out what she should with complete resolution, she started what she prayed she wouldn't be called to finish.

Celestia stood up from the throne, hid all tears and stared daggers at Twilight, all the while suppressing thoughts of sympathy, "mock" sympathy, so to speak.

When she caught her eyes, Celestia advanced, slowly, step by step, mane supposedly pulsating with anger. Not floating in an ethereal breeze, but whipping in thunder. Twilight steped back, step by step, pupils dilating breath quickening. Wings folding to their sides again, head lowering. Celestia knew that the jump from anger to fear was easy, especially for those with wings given out of trust. They both knew.

'Ce-Celestia... w-what are y-you doing?' Twilight cried out several times as her rump neared the door.

Celestia said nothing. She kept walking forward, perceiving each step as heavier than the last. The time it took for Twilight to reach the door ached for her, ached like when she'd killed the bird...

As an inevitability, Twilight did find herself against a closed door, too heavy to move with her physical strength alone. Her adviser approached with as more menace than she'd seen from her, from anyone. Though Celesita wasn't the absolute foundation she had been to Twilight, she was still a constant support; seeing her like this terrified her out of her mind. As if she hadn't been out of her mind with upset already.

To Celestia's great relief, Twilight teleported away. She wouldn't be called to finish what she'd begun. She wouldn't have to think about what she might have done. She could pretend that it would have been the right thing and that she'd done the right thing. It was much easier that way, so much easier. Luna could deal with her. Her sister had gotten better with Twilight as time had passed, which was quite to the contrary to how it had started out, curiously. Luna would know what Twilight was talking about, the blasted book had caused nothing but trouble.

In all the histrionics, Twilight had left the thing in the throne room. The blanched alicorn gazed at it with grim curiosity. Perhaps this was going to be of those instances where she broke her word...

An emotionally distraught Twilight blinked into existence in her personal chamber, utterly confused. She didn't know if she wanted to be fearful or angry at how the old teacher had acted.

Only a few minutes later, (she did not acknowledge it herself), Twilights' thoughts selflessly turned to the predicament of ruling today, in this disheveled state. What if there'd been an outbreak of parasprites; who would fix it? This was despite the fact that there had been no outbreak since she'd been a unicorn. Celestia had passed such duties over to her, but she might just break down in tears if she tried. And that would lead to negative press, and that would lead to-

'knock knock,' went the door.

'Your Highness? May I come in,' asked a voice so indistinct from the other servants' voices nopony could tell them apart. The only characteristics Twilight gleamed was that it was a stallions voice, if a slightly androgynous one.

Twilight needlessly panicked at the state her mane was in, heart thumping again, poor mare.

'Just a moment!'

Twilight checked her draw, that was where placed her comb every morning... But it wasn't there, because she hadn't placed the comb this morning, she'd talked with Celestia instead. Twilight flinched at that. 'Spares spares spares,' she kept repeating in her head, trying to connect the word to object, heart continually lurching into places it should not.

'If your highness is concerned about her appearance, there is no need. There is a message for you, I will slip it under the door.'

The patient servant was about to drop the small piece of paper he held by his teeth, but the Queen hastily opened the door. Holding objects others would be touching inside the mouth was uncouth and unsanitary, apparently.

'Oh no, I can't let you do that can I?!'

It was fortunate the nameless stallion was one of the more disciplined in his profession. Twilight looked and sounded like she'd just run a marathon, or flown an equivalent, as the case may have been. He couldn't stop himself gawking, but gave the note and left before it was remarked upon, or hopefully, noticed. He also couldn't stop himself from thinking the Queen had been doing something more pleasurable! Twilight was oblivious. All she could form in her uncharacteristically chaotic mind, was that this was going to be one of those days. Not to say that she'd read the book before, or that she'd fallen out with Celestia to this extent.

The note read:

Dearest Twilight, I'm extremely sorry you're so upset, I would have told you earlier if I knew what was in that book. I will take care of your duties for the day; I suggest you speak with Luna if you remain unsatisfied. I mean no harm.

Celestia's writing was evidently more laconic than her speech.