by Ambion
***
Imagine Twilight Sparkle, newly ascended alicorn, wearing a beer hat.
Well, it’s like a beer hat. Except it’s not a beer hat. An actual beer hat would have been gross misconduct here, in this place.
What’s important is that it has car mirrors affixed to it, it is sitting on Twilight Sparkle’s head, and it is making her feel very, very self conscious.
She was hovering in place in what we might imagine to be ‘neutral’.
Celestia flew slow, appreciateive circles around the distressed student.
“Is this really necessary?” Twilight asked. There was an edge of pleading to her voice.
That constant, Mona Lisalestia-like smile wasn’t going anywhere. Just glancing at it made hapless Twilight gulp and falter.
“Everyone has to pass their flying test,” Celestia said.
“Bu-but Celestia, I’ve gotten better at flying, and-and...I can fly. I do fly!”
She was shushed with a feather, mid-wing stroke. “Which is precisely why I’ve had to hush up the matter, and have taken personal charge as you’re instructor in the matter. “The law is the law, Twilight,” the princess said with a little bit too much delight showing.
“Don’t worry,” she cooed affectionately, “it’s a simple test. You simply have to fly forwards, turn, and come back. I have every confidence in you.”
Twilight flapped errantly as she struggled to adjust the itchy and obtuse headset. “Okay,” she said. “I can do that. It’s just forward and back. Forward and back. Not really a test at all,” she said, slathering her anxiety over with bravado. "Pegasus foals pass this all the time.”
“That’s right,” said Celestia. Dutifully and with full ceremony she conjured a quill and notepad. “You may begin.”
Twilight went from neutral to her first flappy gear, careful of any wild acceleration. She began to drift slowly forwards. “Okay,” she said, “okay, okay, I’ve got this. I’ve got this.”
When she had gone perhaps fifty metres, she angled her yaw into a gradual, steady turn, so that the entirety of her flight was a great ‘U’ shape.
She came back sweating, tense, and visibly shaken. “There,” said Twilight. “I did it.”
Celestia tsk-tsk’d her. She held up the notepad, which now bore evil red pen marks. Twilight’s heart sank, or possibly exploded. “What?!”
Celestia conjured reading glasses and dutifully put them on as she begun. “Failure to check rearview mirrors. Failure to check over shoulder. Failure to perform a three-point turn. Failure to signal correctly at said turn.”
The larger, wiser, and much more amused alicorn looked up. “I’m sorry, Twilight, but I’m afraid you’ve failed the test.”
“Fai...failed? Me...I...failed?”
Celestia, not unsympathetic, was quick to embrace and hold her traumatised student. “It’s okay, Twilight. Many ponies fail their first flying test. It’s nothing anypony will hold against you.”
Twilight replied with the articulation of a twitching mouth and eye. With a magical sunlight pop, the pen, glasses, notepad and ridiculous not-a-beer-hat vanished.
“Looks like I’ll have to carry you back down.”
Stupefied Twilight looked up at Celestia, and shivered as the white hooves embraced her. “I’m...I’m okay with this.”
They flew a small ways.
“Did you rig this thing against me?” Twilight asked as she, illegal-flyer, was forced to snuggle tightly against Celestia.
“Why ever would you think that?” chuckled the princess.
They enjoyed the rest of the flight in close silence.