//------------------------------// // The Tearoom // Story: Being Royalty // by Coronet the lesser //------------------------------// Celestia gently sipped tea from her cup. Her tearoom wasn’t fancy. There were no tapestries, no elegant pottery, nor stained glass windows that were prevalent throughout the castle. It instead had a sitting cushion and a small table, which upon it sat a steaming teapot and a golden engraved porcelain cup which was Celestia’s favourite. What it did have was a simple window that overlooked the gardens; it was a peaceful room, away from prying eyes of the court. The opening allowed Celestia to enjoy the simplicities of her garden without the complications that came from taking a walk through it. Celestia despised the baggage that came with such a simple act. There would have been guards, a dozen escorts and a gaggle of ponies vying to see their monarch perform the astounding act of acting like a typical pony. Thus, it was easier to remain in the tearoom where her guards were instructed to keep her privacy. The tea partially made up for the lack of hooves-on experience. She was having jasmine today, freshly imported from the east. It had a delectable scent and a rather eminent calming effect on her. Needless to say, the tea had greatly aided much over the long years. She would certainly need it today. She listened to the birds chirp merrily amongst the early morning air, their song in full blast. Celestia hummed along to the melody as she closed her eyes. The momentary peaceful bliss settled over her. The court hadn’t started yet and it wouldn’t for another few hours. She had decided today was a good day to delay it. She needed the time to think and prepare herself. Suddenly, there were shouts that silenced the bird’s songs, Celestia stirred herself before peering out the window. What she saw was a small group of excitable fillies following their teacher who was evidently struggling at controlling them. Celestia could not help but smile. She occasionally liked to watch as a tour group moved through the garden, there was something wonderful about observing wide-eyed fillies take in the wonder of the capital and its world-renowned gardens. She was sometimes tempted to fly down and surprise them all but more often than not, restrained herself from doing so. No doubt, some courtier would be quick to notice her and talk about the scandal of Celestia interacting with the common populace without her guards. It was a tiresome thing to think of. Celestia drank from her cup again, the children’s voices fading into the undergrowth of the garden maze. It took her back to the days when she taught Twilight, a little filly always following her around, always inquisitive and relentless in her pursuit of Celestia’s attention, damn the court and all its procedures. For a time, it had been a breath of fresh air. Celestia missed those days sometimes, a less complex time. Her student was overlooked and sneered at but was in truth was paid little mind by the nobility. Now, Twilight was the centre of controversy. It made her feel guilty. The young mare was no more a princess had to be born in her place and Celestia had made sure of it. It still stung to think that she had thrown Twilight into the harshness of her world. Her only saving grace was unlike when Celestia was growing up at least Twilight would have friends to help ease the transition. Celestia had held onto her image of her young student for a moment longer before a heavy knock came upon the door. Celestia sighed. She had already guessed who it was before the guard poked his head through the door. She was honestly surprised he had managed to wake at such an early time. “Excuse me your highness but he has arrived. Shall I send him in?” “Yes, thank you, sir.” Celestia nodded towards her guard. The guard bowed before shutting the door. Celestia emptied her cup and closed her eyes. The door clicked and Celestia heard the creak as the door moved open followed by the clop of hooves against the marble floor. “Good morrow, Auntie,” said Prince Blueblood. It always surprised how Celestia how each generation of Blueblood looked almost identical to the last. Blonde mane and blue eyes, it had been that way since the first to take the name. Years of inbreeding had maintained the pure bloodlines, at the cost of the birth of several infertile foals over the generations. Afterwards, the practice was forsaken and furthermore forbidden by Celestia. To make up for it, the family limited their marriages generally to mares or stallions who bore white coats. “Nephew.” Celestia donned a thin smile. “It has been too long.” He did not reciprocate her affection, his mouth threatening to erupt into a full-fledged scowl. “Indeed,” he said evenly. “I was quite surprised to be summoned so…early.” He winced, he had evidently only woken within the last hour. His body language gave nothing away but his eyes were downcast with a weariness that oft came with an early rising. “As the lady of the sun I rise and set when it does, nephew,” she said. “I apologise if the time is inconvenient but the matter is of the uttermost importance, per your initial petition to me.” Celestia waved him over to a seat opposite to hers. Blueblood moved. “Quite, the hour has grown late.” He stopped just before the cushion, clearly electing to stand. Celestia frowned. “I had expected you to call upon me earlier.” “After your little interview?” asked Celestia without pause as if she were discussing a mundane topic, such as the weather. “Well…yes,” admitted Blueblood hesitantly. “Quite strong words. I felt that you needed some time to reflect, afterwards. If only for your sake.” “By censoring me,” seethed Blueblood. Celestia raised an eyebrow at his tone. “By ensuring you would not humiliate a sovereign of the state before a critical bilateral meeting? If you think that I would censor you because of some criticism of myself, then you must think me very petty.” The calmness of Celestia’s voice betrayed the harshness of her words. “I was…upset. I apologise,” stammered Blueblood quickly. “It is rude to lie.” Celestia gazed at him with cold eyes empty of their regular warmth, they certainly unnerve the stallion. “I had thought of all the lessons that I taught you, that one would have at least stick. I am ashamed to say that I have failed in that regard.” The disappointment was thick in her voice. “I spoke the truth. If I worded it offensively, then the fault is my own.” “You implied that perhaps I had lost my senses in the matter of Twilight’s ascension. I doubt that your words could be exactly misconstrued, at least within the confines of the language that we speak at least.” Blueblood’s cheeks puffed out giving him the passing resemblance of an agitated walrus. Celestia poured herself a fresh cup. “Tea?” she extended an additional cup to him with the pot. He shook his head. “No, your highness, I shall pass, jasmine makes me queasy.” The formality made her frown. “You used to love it as a foal.” “I am the prince of Canterlot now. I am no longer a child.” Celestia could hear him grate his teeth. “Sometimes I wonder if that in itself is true,” looked down into her empty cup. Blueblood seemingly ignored the insult. His mouth was still, his expression stoic and cold though behind his eyes Celestia could see him writhe in fury. “Twilight Sparkle.” Celestia sighed. She supposed she had delayed the inevitable for long enough “Is a good pony who deserves her title and a role of leadership,” finished Celestia. She sipped her tea. “I have seen her grow from an insecure filly to a leader amongst ponies both within her community and outside of it.” “That backwater pigsty of a town?” Blueblood looked as he was struggling not to spit at the mention of the name. “Is this some form of a joke? Your humour has always been crass, Auntie. She clearly is not even remotely prepared to lead.” “And you are?” she answered sharply. Blueblood clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, apparently caught off guard by her statement. Blueblood was quick to recompose himself. “I have the birthright. That is more than she could ever have.” “That is a weak claim at best and you know it,” scolded Celestia. “You are not as foolish as you make yourself out to be. You have filled your head with your mother’s words. Your father-” “-is gone,” replied Blueblood firmly. “Yes,” she confirmed, nodding sadly. He had been a good stallion, sickly but not without compassion and honour in abundance. Celestia had been happy to call him nephew. Thus, it was much to her confusion when he wed a mare who was in almost every way, his polar opposite. “Yes, he is, but I had hoped you had not forgotten him.” “She is a commoner,” he blurted out, changing the subject again. Unfortunately for him, it would have been best if he had remained silent. Celestia was reticent for a moment. A blackness had seemed to pass over her face, Blueblood shook slightly. It had been too late to rectify his mistake. “Careful Prince,” she eventually said formally. “You stand before me as a distant relative of my family, but do not presume you think that exempts you from my ire.” Celestia placed her cup down harshly. “The status of her birth means nothing and if you assume some sort of inherent superiority due to the blood of your ancestors then you are the bigger fool than I presumed.” Celestia straightened herself, her voice louder than previously. “You are thinly related to me through blood but remember that it is by my will that you have your precious title and it is by my will that it can be stripped away.” Celestia stopped to glare at him. Blueblood seemed shrink from her. “Do not presume to use such an argument in my presence again or else it will be the last time you will have such an opportunity to do so.” Celestia slouched then and frowned. “To think, I remember the bright-eyed young stallion so eager to learn of the world and better it through his actions. It is because of this I will give you a second chance.” Her expression hardened. “You will not be given a third.” Celestia’s final words lingered and seemed to echo throughout the room. “I…was…” Blueblood gulped and bowed his head. “…not thinking, forgive me.” “No.” Blueblood looked up aghast. “I cannot forgive what you intend to do. You mean to attack my protégé.” “We merely wish to see if she is in this for the benefit of the realm or the benefit of herself,” protested Blueblood. “Her emotional ties to you leave us suspect her. She could be manipulating you for her own benefit! And with the elements of harmony she could even overthrow you if she so wished.” Blueblood slammed his hoof against the marble. “Can you not see my concern for you, Auntie? It is dangerous to put blind faith in her so soon.” “Blind faith,” repeated Celestia dismissively. “Do not barter empty words with me, nephew. I have heard them from your ilk for far too long.” Blueblood’s muzzled crinkled at her remark. “Twilight is the same mare as the filly who could barely function at the very idea of my disapproval. She levelled her gaze with his. “If you mean to insinuate that she would use me, then you’re the one who is blind. Though not by faith but your unwarranted scorn of her,” the Prince flushed a dark red through his white coat, his anger only contained by the fact that he was speaking to his aunt. “Then what of your favouritism?” He shot back. “If that is what you state? She has always been the apple of your eye. Perhaps you have been blind to what she hides.” “Ridiculous,” snorted Celestia. “I do admit that I have favoured Twilight in the past,” Celestia phrased carefully. “She was a sweet, intelligent filly humble from birth which has become a rarity in my world. Is that why you hate her?” Blueblood opened his mouth but Celestia was quicker when raising her hoof. “Before you answer please use your words, not your mother's.” Blueblood’s mouth snapped shut, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I’m sick of hearing her vicious rhetoric. I want to hear my nephews view.” Celestia softened her voice. “Please.” “You loved her more than me,” he hissed through closed teeth. Celestia’s ears lowered as they pinned against her skull. The statement was not entirely false. Twilight was in many ways the daughter she had never had, Blueblood…was different. She had tried but as he grew his temper and selfishness grew to a point where Celestia actively disdained her nephew’s company, much to her shame. “I-” He didn’t let her finish. “Your own blood. It was always her. Her.” His face twisted into a snarl. Twilight this. Twilight that. Twilight. Twilight. Twilight.” With each passing mention of her name the angrier, he seemed to get. “I adored you, auntie,” he said in a ragged breath. “But what did I get in return?” He was shouting at this point. “Nothing. But for her it was everything! Your attention. Your love. Your pride. For her.” Blueblood was so red in the face he looked not far off a tomato, Celestia sat quietly unflinching. “That that… freak!” Celestia did move at that, though. “Enough!” Celestia stood from her seat, her wings spread out. Blueblood backed away, his breath caught as the colour drained from his face and his rage melted into terror. A few seconds later, the guards burst through the doors their spears levelled at the imaginary threat. Celestia took in a deep breath and folded her wings. She turned to the guards. “I am sorry if I startled you gentlecolts, I was merely…correcting my nephew.” They both bowed and exited. Celestia seated herself once more and took a large gulp of her tea. She finally returned her eyes to the now cowed Blueblood. “I asked you for your reason, not your bile. Say that of her again and the black cells of the dungeon will be too good for you.” Blueblood gulped. “I’m sorry.” “No, you’re not,” said Celestia in exasperation. “I admit it, though, I did shower Twilight with all you said and more. It is a fault on my part.” She sighed. “But to suggest that I abandoned you because of her is wrong. Blueblood winced. “I saw a bright young stallion surround himself with sycophants and snobs that filled his mind with poison. Just because Twilight did not throw her power around as a means to an end makes her the enemy does it? Because she is not like you and thus you must hate anything that is different.” “I should have been your apprentice not her,” he huffed finally regaining some of his lost bravado. “Just because you bear the name Blueblood does not entitle you to my role as my apprentice,” she answered tersely. “Twilight earned that right just as she earned her wings. If you want to fight this, then you can, but you will not succeed.” “How could you possibly know that?” snapped Blueblood, biting hard on the side of his cheek. “Try as you may deny it, but Twilight will grow to be a far wiser princess than I ever will be.” Blueblood looked surprised by his aunt’s statement, she deliberately let the declaration hang in the air before pressing on. “Her success is tied to the very fate of Equestria. “That is why Twilight is a princess and why I must urge you to stop with your pestering.” Celestia dared Blueblood to question her, to the stallions credit he seemed to have accredited himself with a keen sense of ignoring Celestia’s thinly veiled orders. “I will not bow to some princess in Ponyville,” he snarled like a petulant child. “You will,” rang Celestia, her voice filled with thinly veiled annoyance. “Because I will ensure it.” She set he cup aside. “I have fought wars, coups, plagues, famines and invasions.” She started intently at Blueblood. “If you think that I will be overcome by a few upstart nobles then you are gravely mistaken.” Celestia’s voice was like ice as she finished, the grace warmth and friendliness of her tone evaporating suddenly. “I have fought this battle for thousands of years and have never lost.” “Impossible,” blurted out Blueblood stupidly. “Do you honestly believe I would be sitting on the throne if I did? So I will warn you, end your silly vote and we can put this past us.” Blueblood had paled but the steel in his eyes said more about his thoughts on the matter. “I will not and neither will the nobility.” The stubbornness on display irritated Celestia, more than anything. Her tone shifted to a more melancholic one as she spoke next. “Then you risk a humiliation that even your name will not save you from and for that I am very regretful nephew. I had hoped we could reconcile, it’s not too late.”   “Perhaps if Twilight Sparkle abdicated,” he said flatly, completely serious. “That will never happen especially on your volition. There are challenges Twilight will face that will put her at the forefront of decisions in Equestria. I need her by my side when it comes to that.” “So is she your heir, now?” Celestia was taken aback by the question. In truth, she had not really thought about Twilight as a direct heir to herself considering that their titles made them equal, though clearly that was not what Blueblood meant. He had been the direct heir once now he sat in a lowly fourth position which only further fuelled his contempt of Twilight’s rapid rise. He was quick to latch onto her silence. “Then I’ll take that as a yes.” “Take from my silence what you will,” dismissed Celestia. “A good chessmaster doesn’t reveal her moves to anypony but herself.” “You and your riddles, Auntie. You’ve always been cryptic to a ridiculous degree.” “So you will not abandon the vote,” said Celestia finally as she poured a fresh cup of tea. She took two sugars and dropped them in before taking a metal stick and stirring. The occasional scrape of the metal against the porcelain the only sound, as Blueblood considered. “No.” “Then I am sorry, nephew, now you are truly lost.” Celestia lowered her head. “I’m afraid my royal duties call me elsewhere, your highness,” said Blueblood in monotone. “I must regrettably excuse myself from your company.” “Blueblood,” she said in a strained voice. “Am I excused?” he asked a tiny bit more sternly, his eyes unblinking and not focused on her. “Yes,” she sighed, defeated. “I truly am sorry if I hurt you know,” she called after him, an olive branch amongst their exchange of barbs. It caused him to pause for a moment before he took his exit. Celestia could only look on as another of her disappointments left angry with her. As Blueblood exited abruptly, Celestia called out to her guards at the doors. “Guards, please bring me some more tea. I believe I wish to stay for another hour or so.” One of the guards nodded and bolted off to the kitchens. “I have much to think about,” she whispered looking out the tall window to the tranquillity of the gardens.