Tales of Canterlot Castle

by The Ponopticon

Luna Gets an Assistant

“We—pardon me—I must say, your credentials are very impressive,” Luna said as she glanced over her slim reading glasses at the young steel-grey unicorn mare sitting across from her before returning to the résumé that sat on her desk.  “You graduated summa cum laude from Trottingham University’s political science department…”
“I usually prefer not to say summa cum laude, your Majesty,” the mare interjected.  “Too many dirty jokes.”
“What do you mean?”
“Uh… Nothing, Majesty.”  The mare stared fixedly at the surface of the desk, one of her hooves nervously toying with her dark mane.
“Hm.”  Luna made a mental note to look into what a ‘dirty joke’ was and continued reading.  “It says here that you interned for two years at the Equestrian embassy in the Griffon Kingdoms—how did you find the griffons?”
“I mostly just followed the shouting, your Majesty.”
“I see.  Not quite what I meant, but I suppose that would work,” Luna mused before turning the page to continue.  “Then you spent the last year-and-a-half as a—let me see if I’ve got this right—‘consulting graphologist’ to Lord Pennybottom in Hoofington.”
“He was having some trouble with his hornwriting, your Majesty.”
“Ah.”  Luna turned back and rescanned the first page of the young mare’s résumé.  “And you’ve somehow managed to stretch these three things over two whole pages,” she said under her breath.  The unicorn’s pale green eyes snapped up from whatever had been so engrossing on Luna’s desk.
“I beg your pardon, your Majesty?”
Luna looked up with a questioning look on her face.  “Why?  Have you committed a crime?”
“Um… Nnnno,” the grey mare said hesitantly.  “I mean, I don’t think so.”
“Hm.  Well, in any case, I think you’re definitely the right pony for the job,” Luna announced as she straightened the résumé and pushed it aside before continuing in a low voice.  “Especially since you’re the only applicant.”
“What?”
Luna coughed politely to cover her mistake.  “I just need one more piece of information from you, if you wouldn’t mind,” she said, making judicious use of her royal privilege to pony-handle a conversation in any direction she felt like.
“Of course, your Majesty!” the unicorn mare gushed excitedly, finally realising that she was getting the job.  “Anything you need!”
Luna looked the young mare straight in the eyes.  “Now, this is of the utmost importance,” she said, her tone deathly serious.  “I need you to answer me perfectly truthfully, as your employment now hinges entirely upon your answer to this one question.”
“Yes, your Majesty,” the mare said with an anxious gulp.
“What is your name?  It’s not on your résumé.”
There was a moment of silence.  Luna waited expectantly as the young mare turned this piece of information over in her head.
“It’s not?”
“No.”
“Not even up in the corner?”
“Not as such, no.”
“You’re sure?”
“Quite sure.”
“Hm.”  The mare looked thoughtful.  “That would explain why I’ve never gotten any responses to any of the other résumés I’ve sent out.”
Luna cleared her throat as a not-so-subtle reminder that she was still awaiting an answer.  The young mare nearly jumped out of her seat.
“Right!  Sorry!” the unicorn cried.  “It’s Flora!  Flora Civilia!”
Luna set her glasses down as she stood up and circled the desk until she was directly next to Flora.  She drew herself up into her best ‘regal’ pose as Flora also stood, the grey mare sensing that something of import was about to be said.
“Well then, Flora Civilia,” Luna declared, not quite in the Royal Canterlot Voice but still with rather more force and projection than most ponies used when speaking.  “We hereby name thee the first Royal Assistant to the Princess of the Night.”

“I’m still not entirely sure what I’m supposed to be doing, your Majesty.”
Luna sighed.  Flora had been pestering her like this for the last three hours as they toured around the castle.  Luna had been able to distract the unicorn by telling her various things about the many rooms and hallways they had passed through, but the long stretch of hallway leading to the royal kitchens was notoriously boring, giving Flora plenty of time to renew her assault.
Why, oh why did I neglect to ask Celestia what royal assistants were for when she suggested I get one? Luna thought.
“Oh, you know, you’ll be doing…assistant-ish things,” she said aloud.  “Mostly for me, of course, as you’re my assistant.  And what did I tell you about calling me ‘your Majesty’?  Call me Luna, or Princess Luna if you must be formal.”
“Ah, right.  So, Princess Luna, what exactly counts as ‘assistant-ish,’?” Flora persisted, her pointed emphasis on Luna’s title drawing another sigh from the princess before she answered.
“I assumed you would know,” Luna said, a sly smile breaking across her face.  “After all, you are supposed to be assisting me.”
“Flawless logic, Princess.”
“Isn’t it, though?”
“Yes.  Quite perfect.  Almost exactly like a perfect circle, in fact.”
Luna grumbled—she was beginning to suspect that Flora was capable of nearly Celestia-level snark, and that this may very well have been exactly what Celestia had planned.  In retrospect, having only a single applicant to any kind of royal position, even one for the “little” princess, was far too unlikely to not have been arranged.
Wonderful.  It will be like having big sister around to irritate me all the time—thanks, ‘Tia, Luna thought irritably.  Why did I let her convince me this was a good idea?
Luna was interrupted in her self-deprecating musings by Flora setting out on a new plan of attack just as they reached the door to the kitchens.
“You really have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing, do you, Princess?”
Luna stopped with her hoof on the kitchen door and turned to glare at the grey unicorn mare.  Flora immediately froze up, her eyes going wide as she realised what she had just said to her ruler and new employer.
“I’m sorry!  That came out wrong!” Flora backpedaled.  When Luna just sighed yet again and pushed through the door Flora relaxed and followed the princess into the bustling kitchens.
“Wow!  This place is massive!” Flora said as she looked around.  A multitude of chefs, sous-chefs, sous-sous-chefs, sauciers, bakers, and other food-related minions rushed about preparing for breakfast, flowing around the Night Princess and her new assistant like water.  There was even an honest-to-goodness sandwich artist taking a quick nap in the corner until he had to prepare for lunch.  Space was limited, even in such a large room, but the kitchen staff moved around each other effortlessly like parts of a well-oiled machine.
“Yes, the royal kitchens serve the needs of the entire castle, including the many visiting nobles and diplomatic guests as well as my sister and I,” Luna explained.  “As you can see, breakfast preparations start well before sunrise, even though many of the nobility staying in the castle are rarely up before ten.”
Awed, all Flora could do was nod in response, but after a few more moments spent basking in the sheer culinary industry of the royal kitchens the young unicorn mustered all her courage and once again restarted her campaign to nail down what her duties would be.
“Princess, what you said earlier about me being your ‘first Royal Assistant’—that ‘first’ isn’t just part of the title, is it?  Like being ‘first flute’ in an orchestra?”  Flora asked.  “Have you really never had an assistant before?”
“Well, when Celestia and I first came to power Equestria was much smaller and easier to manage,” Luna replied.  She cast a rueful glance at her assistant.  “And then I spent a thousand years on the moon, so…”
“Ah.  Yes.  That.  Um, about that…”
“Asking your new employer about the circumstances of her former banishment on your first day on the job might not be the best choice, my little pony,” said a new voice—warm, motherly, and with just a hint of underlying amusement.
Flora turned, only to nearly get a face full of white.  She stumbled backwards and landed on her haunches, a sous-chef carrying two sizzling skillets in his forehooves gracefully pirouetting around her as she fell.  As Flora’s eyes stopped spinning they settled on the set of delicately shod hooves in front of her.  Her eyes followed the excessively long white legs up, and up, and up…
“Tall,” the young unicorn mumbled, nearly incoherent as her mind raced.
OhmygoshohmygoshohmygoshIt’sPrincessCelestiashe’ssotallshe’sgorgeousandshe’sgotbagsunderhereyes…wait, what?
Princess Celestia yawned delicately (WhattheheckPrincessCelestiaisyawningIdon’teven…) and turned to her younger sister.
“Good morning, Luna,” she said with a smile.
“You’re up rather early today, sister,” the Luna said, suppressing a scowl.
“Oh, well, the sun is due to rise in two hours or so, so I thought I’d get a bit of a head start on the day’s paperwork in the meantime,” Celestia said airily.  “Not to mention it gives me the chance to check up on my dear little sister and her new assistant.”
“How kind of you.”  
Luna’s voice positively dripped sarcasm but Celestia kept smiling as she turned to fiddle with a small contraption on one of the few unused sections of countertop in the kitchens.
“I take it it’s going well, then?” Celestia asked innocently as the small device burbled and emitted some steam.  “Are you giving her the tour?”
“I don’t know how you did it, ‘Tia, but I’m going to get you for this.”
“Why, whatever do you mean, sister of mine?”
“Her!” Luna hissed, jabbing a hoof towards where Flora was still sitting stunned on the floor as the kitchen staff swirled around her with practiced ease.  “She’s like a little you.”
“Are you sure you aren’t just imagining things?”
“She’s a snark factory.”
Celestia laughed melodically.  “Now I know you’re imagining things, Luna,” she said.  “I am not snarky.”
Luna stared at her older sister.
“Well, maybe I’m a little snarky now and then,” Celestia admitted.
Luna’s stare intensified.
“Okay, maybe I’m fairly snarky quite a lot of the time,” Celestia relented.
“You are a snark monster,” Luna stated flatly.
Celestia laughed again, then turned as the little device she had been playing with gave a last burble and spat a dark brown liquid into a small metal cup.
“Only before I’ve had this, dear sister,” the elder princess said, indicating the tiny cup as she surrounded it with her magic and brought it to her lips to take a sip.
Her curiosity piqued, Luna craned her neck to get a better look at the strange liquid.
“What is that?” she asked when simple visual inspection yielded no definite answers.
“Oh, this?  It’s called espresso,” Celestia replied.  “It’s a relatively recent invention—it’s a kind of coffee.”
Luna’s confused expression did not go away.
“Ah, of course, coffee was introduced while you were still…” Celestia began, then paused to think.  “It’s—oh, how to explain this—it’s a hot caffeinated beverage, so you could think of it as being sort of like tea, I suppose.”
“It smells awful,” Luna said.
“Nonsense!  I think it smells lovely!” Celestia said.  “It is rather on the bitter side, though, so I usually drink it with some milk and sugar.  On that note, where are the… ah!”
Having found the milk and sugar, Celestia magically floated a little of each into the small metal cup and took another sip.
“Perfect!  Well, I’m off, Luna—paperwork calls!” Celestia said gaily as she turned to make her way out of the kitchens.  “I’ll see you and your new assistant around, I’m sure.  Good day, Miss Civilia.”
Luna stood and stewed for a moment after Celestia left before finally breaking Flora from her star-struck trance with an unceremonious poke.
“Come on, assistant, let’s go.”
“She knows my name.  Princess Celestia knows my name,” Flora breathed.  She turned to Luna with a confused expression.  “How does Princess Celestia know my name?”
Luna groaned and ran a hoof over her face.
“Never mind that.  We’re done in the kitchens, so let’s just go,” the Night Princess said as she turned to make a beeline to the door.  Flora followed after her, a beatific but still rather confused smile on her face.
Damn it, ‘Tia, how do you always manage to do that?

Flora’s stunned silence did not last long.  She and Luna had only been in Luna’s study for a few minutes before the unicorn recovered and started in on her old refrain:
“You still haven’t told me what my job will be, Princess.”
Luna sighed and set aside her quill.  She had almost hoped that she might actually get some work done; as relaxing as she found her work on the new tax revisions, she knew they wouldn’t be obliging enough to finish themselves.  But first she would have to deal with her bothersome new assistant.
“Look, Flora, we’ve already established that I’ve never had an assistant before,” the exasperated Night Princess began.  “I don’t actually know what I’ll need you to assist me with, so can’t we just define your job as we go?”
“I really would prefer to have some idea of what I’ll be doing,” Flora replied.  “Isn’t there anything you can tell me?  Anything specific you think you might need my help with?”
Luna thought for a moment, tapping her chin with a hoof.
“Well, being Princess of the Night has the advantage of not swamping me with meetings, so I likely won’t need you to help organise my schedule,” Luna mused aloud.  “I rarely get visitors, too—I mostly just do paperwork all night.”
“I could read and summarise reports for you,” Flora suggested, but Luna shook her head.
“I’m a very fast reader, so unless I suddenly get a massive influx of work I doubt I’ll need help with that,” the princess said.  “Even this much is hardly a problem for me to read through.”
Luna waved a hoof to indicate the piles of reports and other various bits of paperwork that were haphazardly strewn about her desktop.  A small frown crossed her face.
“It has been getting a bit cluttered of late, though,” Luna thought aloud.
“Oh!  I can help with that, then!”  Flora brightened as she seized the opportunity.  “I could work on a filing system for you to keep things from cluttering up your desk.”
“A filing system?” Luna said as she considered the idea.  “That could be very helpful, actually.  Organised alphabetically?”
“Naturally.  And by year, too, to make future reference easier.”
“Wonderful!”
“It probably won’t even be that difficult,” Flora continued, pacing back and forth with excitement now that she finally had a focus to her job.  “The most difficult thing will probably be incorporating your old records into the new filing system—once it’s all set up, though, it’ll be a snap!”
“And it would make my job much easier to have everything neatly organised,” Luna added, starting to get in on the excitement herself.
“Well, my job is to make your job easier, after all,” Flora said cheerily.
Luna’s expression suddenly turned pensive.
“Hmm…make my job easier…” the princess muttered.  “Flora, a thought has just occurred to me.”
“Yes, Princess?”
“I like this idea of a new filing system and I wouldn’t want to take too much of your time away from it, but it’s just that I’ve never been terribly good at—oh, what’s that new word ‘Tia uses—ah yes, multitasking, so…”
“Princess Luna, I am here to assist you in any way you require of me,” Flora stated, nearly overflowing with confidence now that she was free of her dread of a completely undefined job.  “If there is anything I can do to help you, please do not hesitate to ask.”
“Ah, well, it’s just that Mister Tickles can get so lonely and despondent while I’m working, so I thought that maybe you could take some time to play with him occasionally,” Luna said.
“Um… Who is Mister Tickles?”
“My pet giant spider.”
“Your pet giant…?” Flora began, but stopped when she felt something land on her back.  She whipped her head around, coming muzzle to mandible with the largest spider she had ever seen, including during that one March Break she spent in Hosstralia.
Flora did the only sensible thing a pony could do in the situation:  she screamed at the top of her lungs and bucked wildly as she vainly tried to dislodge the nightmarish creature clinging to her back.
Mister Tickles, for his part, also did the only sensible thing he could do in the situation:  he hung on as tightly as he could while still keeping one of his front legs free to wave a tiny Stetson hat around.
“He does seem to like jumping on ponies’ backs for some reason,” Luna noted distractedly as she continued working on the tax revisions.  She frowned thoughtfully.  “And I’m not sure where he keeps getting those tiny hats,” said Luna, but then she brightened. “I must say, though, you’re reacting far better than Celestia did.”
“AAAUUAAUGH!!  GETITOFFGETITOFFGETITOOOFFFFFF!!  IT’S GONNA LAY EGGS IN MY BRAIN!!”
“Oh, don’t be silly!  Mister Tickles is male.”
“HOW WOULD YOU KNOW THAT?!”
“Well, he is a ‘Mister.’  And besides,” Luna continued heedlessly, “you’re thinking of wasps.  Spiders just paralyse you, wrap you in webbing, and wait until their venom liquefies your insides so they can suck them out of you.”
“THAT IS NOT HELPING!!” Flora shrieked, still bucking for her life.  “I KNOW YOU’RE TRYING TO HELP, BUT IT IS NOT WORKING!!”
Luna waved a hoof dismissively, still not lifting her eyes from her paperwork.
“Well, have fun, you two.  I have to get this done before I go to sleep for the day,” said the princess.
“AAAAAAUUUUUUUGGHH!!”
Mister Tickles let out a chitter that likely translated as “Yee haw!”

Luna groaned and thumped her head against the desk.  It was now nearly two hours past sunrise and she had still not managed to get more than a few pages into the tax revisions.
Flora looked up from her game of checkers against Mister Tickles, an opportunity he used to rearrange several pieces in his favour.
“Is there something wrong, Princess?”
Luna sighed.
“No, there is nothing wrong, per se,” said the alicorn.  “It is just that I cannot seem to focus for some reason.”
“Well,” Flora began, then paused briefly to turn and glare at Mister Tickles after one of his bolder rearrangements made an audible click of game piece against board.  The spider grinned his mandibles innocently.
“Hm.  Well,” Flora continued, “is there anything in particular on your mind?”
Luna sighed again and ran a hoof over her face to hide her slight blush.  “It’s rather embarrassing,” she began hesitantly, “but I find myself unable to stop thinking of that ‘espresso’ of which my sister seems so fond.  It intrigues me to the point I cannot seem to focus on my work, I am ashamed to say.”
“Would you like me to get you some?”  Flora stood up from the checkers game, abandoning it completely; Mister Tickles kinged himself three times and ate one of Flora’s pieces.
“Oh, could you?” Luna asked, her ears perking up and her eyes bright.
“Of course, Princess,” Flora replied with a slight bow.  “I would be glad to do anything that would help you work.”  She gave Mister Tickles a brief sidelong glare before adding: “Besides, I think your spider is cheating.”
“Yes, I know, the little rascal,” said Luna.  “It’s no wonder that Philomena refuses to play against him anymore.”  The princess knitted her brows in thought.  “That,” she added, “and I suspect he may be trying to eat her.”
“Well… um…”  Flora eyed Mister Tickles a bit more apprehensively.  Mister Tickles chittered innocently.  “I’ll watch out for that when I’m playing with him,” Flora said.  “In any case, how much espresso would you like me to get for you?”
Luna thought for a moment, tapping a hoof on her lower lip.  “You might as well just bring the entire device,” she finally declared.  “I think that one of those tiny cups Celestia used will hardly satisfy my intrigue.”
Flora saluted in response, more on a whim than anything else, and trotted out the door, hoping like crazy that she remembered the way to the kitchens.  Mister Tickles ate another of her checkers pieces.

“Ladies and gentlestallions, I hereby call this meeting of the Royal Budget Review Council to order,” Princess Celestia said, casting her gaze around her solarium at the gathered nobleponies.  “As this is our first meeting for this year’s budget,” she continued, satisfied that she had the nobility’s attention, “I will begin by opening the floor to any new business before carrying on with our itinerary.”
A hoof immediately raised.
“The council recognises Count Ruffle of Ploughshire.”
“Actually, it’s pronounced ‘Plusher,’” the count – a short, stocky, tawny-coated unicorn – corrected in the nasal accent affected by so many of Equestria’s nobility.
“Of course it is,” said Celestia, who had named the small county herself over six hundred years ago and knew damned well that it wasn’t.  “Please continue, Count.”
The count drew himself up to his full, utterly unimpressive height.  “I move for a recess until we can continue this meeting at a less ghastly hour of the morning,” he declared.  There was a chorus of “Seconded!” and “Hear, hear!” from amongst the other nobleponies.
Celestia looked at the clock hanging on the wall.  “It is a little past nine o’clock,” she observed, being careful to keep her voice level.
“Exactly my point, your Highness,” Count Ruffle continued.  “I’m not sure what possessed you to schedule this meeting at such a beastly hour, but…”
“Might I remind you, Count,” Celestia interrupted, allowing just the slightest edge to creep into her voice, “that I have been up since before daybreak?  In fact, as I’m sure you all recall, I am the very reason the sun rose at all.”
Celestia suppressed a grin as every noblepony in the room looked down and shuffled their hooves meekly, as though they had just received a scolding from their mothers.  She always felt slightly guilty about treating some of her most prominent subjects like disorderly foals, but she couldn’t argue with the results of the Mom Play, as she called it.
“Well, if there’s no other new business…”  Celestia paused pointedly to stare at each noblepony in turn. “Fine.  Let us continue, then, with…”
Suddenly, the solarium’s large double doors burst open with a force that nearly knocked them off their hinges.
“HAIL, NOBLEMARES AND NOBLESTALLIONS OF EQUESTRIA!” Luna shouted as she marched into the room, followed closely but far more quietly by a very worried-looking Flora.  “WE BID YOU GREETINGS ON THIS FINE MORNING!”
“Luna!  What are you doing?” Celestia sputtered before hastily adding:  “Inside voice!”
“WHATEVER DOST THOU MEAN, SISTER?” bellowed Luna, even louder than before.  Several of the nobleponies slid bonelessly from their seats as they fainted from the sheer force of the Royal Canterlot Voice.  Celestia noticed that Flora had stuffed her ears with cotton balls.
“The Voice, Luna!  You’re doing the Voice again!” cried Celestia as her sister blithely trotted past her.
“AM NOT!” the princess of the night countered.  “OOH!  IS THAT A BALCONY?  NEAT!”
“Luna!  Where are you…” Celestia began, but her sister ignored her and made a beeline for the balcony.  Celestia turned to Flora, her eyes blazing.
“How much?” the princess of the sun hissed angrily.
“HUH?” yelled Flora.
Celestia frowned and yanked the cotton from Flora’s ears with her magic.  “How much espresso did you let my little sister drink?”
“Um…” Flora hesitated.  “What makes you think she’s been drinking espresso, your Majesty?”
“METHINKS I CAN SEE THE OCEAN FROM HERE!” Luna shouted from the balcony.
“My sister may be weird, Miss Civilia,” Celestia said curtly, “but she is never this weird without ridiculous amounts of caffeine involved!”
“I KNOW!  I SHOULD BUY A BOAT!”
“How much has she had, Flora?” Celestia insisted, her teeth clenched and flames beginning to flicker at the edges of her mane and tail.
Flora hesitated again, her eyes flicking from side to side, instinctively looking for a chance to escape as her mind – unbidden – dredged up old stories she had read in history class about Celestia’s ‘Flame Empress’ days from centuries ago.  Finally, she answered: “Two…”
“HELLO DOWN THERE!  WHAT IS THY NAME?”
“Oh,” Celestia said, her anger instantly deflating.  “Two shots?  That’s actually not so bad.”
“…litres.”
Celestia was very quiet for a moment.  Then she leapt forward, picked Flora up by the shoulders and shook her violently.  “YOU LET LUNA DRINK TWO LITRES OF ESPRESSO?!?”
“What was I supposed to do?” Flora shouted back.  “Tell a princess to stop?”
“MY NAME IS LUNA!  I AM A PRINCESS!”
Celestia set Flora back down and pressed a hoof to the bridge of her nose in an attempt to slow the onset of what was sure to be a real flank-bucker of a headache.  “Fine, fair enough,” Celestia admitted.  “But in future, Flora, please consider it well within your purview as a royal assistant to keep your princess from doing colossally stupid things.”
“Things like drinking two litres of the most concentrated caffeinated beverage known to ponykind, your Majesty?”
“Yes, things precisely like that.”
“I CAN TASTE SOUNDS!”
“Whoops!” Celestia cried.  “She’s experiencing synesthesia!  Somepony catch her!”
Luna began to tilt backwards from where she had been leaning against the balcony’s railing, her legs straight and unyielding as she toppled over.  One of the Royal Guards lining the walls of the solarium, who might as well have been part of the furniture beforehand, instinctively leapt into action, diving to catch the younger princess.  To his credit, the guard realised how little chance he stood of actually catching a pony nearly twice his size about halfway into his dive, but by then he had no way of halting his momentum.
“WASODSNASLKDFASFGZXJAOSID!” Luna shouted from where she lay atop the slightly crushed guard before unceremoniously passing out with a beatific grin plastered on her face.
“I’m okay,” groaned the guard from underneath the now very unconscious Princess of the Night.
Silence descended upon the solarium for a few seconds.  Flora fidgeted uncomfortably and stared at her hooves as Celestia’s assistant, an impeccably-groomed white unicorn, appeared seemingly out of thin air and began whispering something in the elder princess’s ear.
“Ah, yes, an excellent idea, Silver,” Celestia said as her assistant disappeared once again in a puff of pure efficiency.  She turned to address one of the Royal Guards, apparently the leader despite being indistinguishable from the other guards gathered around Luna and their fallen comrade.  “Lieutenant, I would like you and your stallions to escort our poor afflicted nobleponies here back to their rooms – or to the infirmary, depending on their wishes.  You have my permission to make use of the emergency chalkboards should communication with some of the more deafened of them prove difficult.  We shall reconvene the council once they have had some time to recover.”
As the Royal Guards began ushering the nobleponies out of the solarium, many making use of their specialised charades training, Flora worked up her nerve and approached Princess Celestia.
“Um… your Majesty?” Flora asked meekly.  “What exactly just happened here?”
“Hm?  Oh, well, Silver Lining suggested we allow the nobles to regain their hearing before continuing with our meeting,” Celestia replied.  “Although I doubt that they will ever truly listen to me in these sorts of meetings, I agree that they should at least have the capacity to hear.  It’s the principle of the thing, really.”
“No, no, I meant with Princess Luna,” Flora clarified.
“Ah, yes.  That,” Celestia said.  “Too much caffeine always affects her like that.  She gets very strange and jittery for a bit, and then she starts hearing colours or something and passes out.”  A nostalgic smile crossed Celestia’s face.  “It used to happen all the time when she’d stay up reading and drinking nothing but tea all day,” she added.
“So… um…  No harm done, then?” Flora said with a nervous grin.
“Nothing long-term, certainly,” Celestia agreed, but then her expression grew more serious.  “However, this little escapade did interrupt a very important meeting.”
Flora gulped.
“As such, I feel I have no choice but to require you to take responsibility for this mess,” Celestia went on, “and help Luna back up to her chambers.”
“Help her…”
“Yes.”
“You mean, carry her…?”
“That is correct.”
“But she’s twice my size!” Flora protested.
“I never said it would be easy,” Celestia responded.  “Being the personal assistant to a princess is a weighty responsibility, after all.  But I believe that you are up to the challenge of carrying this heavy burden.  Here, I’ll even help you out a bit.”
A golden light surrounded Luna as her sister’s magic lifted her lazily into the air and deposited her on Flora’s back.  Flora’s legs nearly buckled as the golden light disappeared, and she gritted her teeth with the effort of keeping the Princess of the Night from once again falling to the floor.
“Have fun, Miss Civilia!” Celestia called cheerfully as Flora trudged towards the solarium’s still-open doors.
Flora bit back a nasty and potentially employment-ending response, and instead paused briefly to look at Celestia over the darker princess slung across her withers.
“Princess, if you don’t mind me asking:  is it always this weird around here?”
“Oh, no, my little pony, of course not!” Celestia said soothingly.  As Flora turned and continued trudging away under the weight of the Princess of the Night, Celestia added:  “Sometimes it gets really odd.”